“You could if you wanted to.”
“It’s too late now but at least I know they’re okay.”
Ross’s shoulders slump and his gaze flits over to Mom’s room.
“Come on,” he says in a low voice. “There’s still on person you can be there for.” He smiles, patting my back again. “You did good, bro. I’m proud of you.”
He turns to step inside and I follow.
I’m not quite prepared for what I see, but he seems to be taking it all in stride. There’s a giant tube stuck down her throat, and so many wires I don’t even know where they’re coming from.
The sucking and spitting sound of the ventilator, sends chills up my spine.
“She looks like shit,” I say.
“Looks better than you did.” I snort and we both pull up chairs. We don’t talk for several minutes. We just sit there in silence, stuck inside the one building I swore I’d never come back to. The one place that’s making my already complicated life damn near impossible to continue on with.
“So, seriously.” Ross nods toward the hall. “What’s up with Doctor Feel Good?”
I laugh. “He and Mom had a thing. A long time ago. First love kind of stuff. Guess he’s not willing to let go.”
Ross smirks. “I know how that is.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “I guess I do too.”
He gives me an odd look, but I don’t elaborate, because I’m not even sure where that just came from. Or if what I’m thinking is even true.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Coco
Two Weeks Later
I sit on the sofa staring at the doorway, my anger building ever passing second.
No phone call. No explanation. It’s been the same pattern almost every day for the past nine days. But I’m more angry at myself than I am with him. I’m the one putting up with it, the one who keeps agreeing to lunch dates and dinners that don’t ever feel like they’re going to happen.
But I can’t help it. Even though I never really said anything, I feel awful for thinking there was ever another girl. That he would do that to me again. After I came back positive for pelvic inflammatory disease, Doctor Schumacher assured me it was due to a long-standing bout of chlamydia. The very idea that I’ve had some kind of virus growing inside me, destroying my body for all these years, scares the crap out of me, but she also assured me the treatment was effective. The only catch? There’s a possibility it’s somehow messed with my reproductive organs, which scares me even more.
I should probably be furious with Dash. And for a moment I was, but I’m mad at myself too. We made the decision to stop using condoms together. I was on the pill and we were serious. But neither of us thought about testing for STDs. I should’ve gone to the doctor years ago. I should have known better. I could yell and scream at Dash, but it’s not entirely his fault. Neither of us knew what was happening.
The only thing we can do now is move on. Try to fix things.
But right now, he’s punishing me. Ever since our little dust up in the kitchen a couple of weeks ago, Dash has been weirder than usual. For the first three days, I let things cool off. I didn’t call him and, amazingly enough, he didn’t call me. But by the fourth day, I couldn’t take it anymore. I broke down and invited him over. He seemed relieved on the phone but that night, after I’d spent the day cooking his favorites and even invested in new lingerie, he didn’t show up.
The next morning the excuse was that he’d been drinking too much with his buddies and didn’t want to drive, so I left it alone. But after nine days of the same crap, I’m ready to string him up.
And Luke. To think I cut him off, talked to him the way I did, all to save a relationship that feels like it’s over anyway.
The back porch light has been on for as long as I’ve been nursing this bottle of wine. Exactly eighty-three minutes. I know if I go over there, he’ll be sitting in the same spot. Probably smoking one of those cigarettes and sipping a Budweiser. But I doubt things will go like they usually do. Why would he offer me a beer? Invite me to sit with him and shoot the breeze after the way I treated him? I couldn’t blame him if he ran me off his property.
But I’m sad. And confused. And most of all, I just miss talking to him.
I let my hair down and massage my scalp before raking through it with my fingers. Still dressed in my blue mini-dress, I grab the half-empty bottle of wine, slip on my flip-flops and push through the back door.
He’s staring up at the sky when I arrive. The beer bottle dangling between his fingers tapping on the bench beside him. As I get closer, I realize he’s singing something. It sounds slightly familiar, but not Roscoe Gold-familiar. It’s clearly his take on someone else’s song. And he sounds incredible as usual. Even without keys, strings and his brother’s harmony to back him up.
He sits up, the music stopping abruptly and the moment our eyes meet, he smiles. His gaze lingers over the length my body for several long seconds before it finally meets mine again.
“Thought you washed your hands of me.”
I don’t bother responding until I’ve kicked off my shoes and padded my way up the stairs, wine in tow. I settle down on the bench next to him.
“You were right.”
“About what?”
“Dash is an asshole.”
He raises an eyebrow, then gestures toward me. “Go on.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head or anything. It’s not what he’s doing. It’s what he’s not doing…all of a sudden.”
“Which is?”
“Taking me out. Calling me. Paying attention to me—at all.”
Luke’s expression darkens. “I should probably tell you to go on home, shouldn’t I?”
I take a sip of wine from the bottle. “I wouldn’t blame you.”
“Because it kind of feels like I’m his replacement. And not in the good way either.”
I smirk. “The good way?”
“You know what I mean. He blows you off, you come hang out with your loser neighbor who’s got nothing else to do.”
I bite my lip. “It’s not like that at all.”
“What’s it like?”
I pause, trying to string words together in my mind that will make sense. Words I’ve never bothered to filter through until now.
“I don’t know…I guess it’s like it’s always been with us. Even though it hasn’t been for a while.”
“And how’s that?”
“You get me. I get you. I can let go with you. Bitch about stuff. We talk each other off the cliff. Make each other feel better.”
“So,” he ways leaning a little closer to me. “What you’re saying is that our friendship actually does exist.”
“Luke.” I close my eyes and shake my head. “I’m sorry for what I said. I was wrong and desperate. And I’m so sorry.”
“But you were right.”
“What?”
“Your relationship with Dash is your business and as much as I couldn’t help myself, I shouldn’t have butted in. And I can’t promise anything, but I will try not to anymore. I’ll try very hard.”
“Thank you. That means a lot. But, you’re my friend. And you wouldn’t be a real friend if you didn’t say what was really on your mind. To be honest, that’s one of the things I like best about you.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“What are some other things?”
I laugh. “Um, you’re a pretty loyal guy. And even though it’s new, I kind of like you as a badass—kicking ass and taking names.”
He smiles. “You think I’m a badass?”
“Lately? Absolutely. But I also like that underneath it all your kind and caring. You make sacrifices for others and look out for the people who matter to you.”
He nods and I take a few more sips before pushing the wine as far away from me as possible.
“I also really like your eyes. Always have.”
Our gazes lock and for a long moment neither
of looks away. I can’t read his expression. It’s something I’ve never seen before. Soft and expectant. Like he’s waiting for me to confirm something he already knows. He’s sporting a hint of a smile and after a few seconds of staring, he sucks on his bottom lip and runs his fingers through his dark hair. It’s longer now, I notice. Ever since he went away and came back, he’s kept it short. But the famous Luke Black shag is on its way back. And his eyes. I really do like them. A hell of a lot more than I remember. I always thought the gray was weird, but I’ve also never really looked into them like I am right now. It’s not a dull kind of gray, it’s more like liquid silver than a cloudy sky. And there are flecks of brown near the center.
It isn’t until I’m thinking to myself that I could reach out and touch his face if I wanted to, that I realize he’s so close. At some point, he scooted over, just inches away from where I sit.
I stifle a breath as he reaches toward me. My back is rod straight when the tips of his fingers slide a few wisps of my hair off my cheek.
“What happened to the curls?”
My throat is so dry I can’t speak, so I just shrug instead.
“They were like tiny little springs all over your head.” He laughs. “So cute. Even when you got older and…cuter they still worked for you.”
I swallow the growing boulder in my throat and force out a little smile, before croaking out. “I thought I’d try something different.”
Luke nods. “I like the curls better.”
My smile grows a little wider and I finally look away. “Me too.”
“So why’d you get rid of them?”
I clear my throat, my body relaxing a little. “Long story.”
Luke’s hand slowly descends, brushing down my bare arm as it does. My heart is beating so fast and I swear my vision is blurry now.
What is he doing? What am I doing? Why am I getting all hot and sweaty? I shouldn’t have come over here. Why do I keep coming over here?
His hand rests on the bench between us and he says, “You’ve been a really good friend to me, Coco.” He chuckles. “And that’s saying a lot considering who I am.”
I frown. “Who you are?”
“The town pariah. You could get ostracized for this you know.”
I smile, lightly. “You’re not the town pariah.”
“Oh no?”
I laugh. “Of course not. What about Brigette Wright? She’s been married more times than Elizabeth Taylor. Broken up more marriages than her too. She’s probably been with every single guy in town.”
Luke sputters a laugh. “Pretty sure I’ve seen her hanging around here once or twice. Even Ross wouldn’t touch her.”
“Then there’s Buster Leland. Everyone keeps wondering what he’ll be addicted to next. He’s already got alcohol, hookers and coke crossed off his list.” I lean in a little closer placing my hand over his. “Besides, there are a ton of people worse than you in Lewiston. What happened to you was a tragedy if anything. People just can’t see that because of what they want to see. But there have been far worse criminals in our city than a grieving man who hopped on his bike to clear his head.”
“Was going to get Ray.”
“What?”
“That’s why I got on the bike.” His hand slips from beneath mine and he rubs his eyes with his thumb and index finger. “I think about it every day. How stupid I was. I went up on the restaurant rooftop to clear my head. I just needed to get away from that hospital. All the crying and screaming. It made it all too real. I couldn’t handle it. I didn’t want to believe she was…I just had to get out of there. I went straight to the rooftop. It’s where we had our first date. And I just pretended she was with me. But then I kept thinking about how she wanted me to be with Mariah. She made me leave her side just to go see the baby and when I did—the moment I leave—all hell breaks loose. I should’ve been there. If I just…”
He sucks in a sharp breath and I take his hand again. “Luke. It’s not your fault. You were doing what she wanted. She would understand.”
“You say I’m a loyal guy, but I’m not so sure. I was never there for her the way I should have been. I always had something else on my mind. Was always trying to figure my own shit out.”
“You were young,” I say. A shiver runs through me and I pull my hand back, hugging myself. “We all were.”
“She told me to be the best dad I could be. So I got up off that rooftop because, even though I was pissed at the world and broken in fucking half, I was gonna try. But I’d been drinking and smoking…then I woke up in the hospital a week later and realized I’d really fucked up.”
“But you’re here now.”
“And they’re going to Sagle with their aunt and the only man who’s ever really been there for them. I hate Dave.” He belts out an arctic laugh. “I hate him and love him at the same time. He’s covering for me and stealing from me at the same time.” Luke shrugs out of his denim jacket and stands half way as he drapes it around my shoulders. “Thanks for listening,” he says. “I haven’t been able to talk to anyone like this in a long time. I never want to bother Ross with all this crap. Just want to let him live his life, you know? And I don’t have anyone else. Never have. Except for Shannon.”
I clench my teeth, then take a deep breath through my nose. Before I lose my nerve, I force the words out, my eyes squeezed tight. “I haven’t been happy with Dash in a long time.”
There’s nothing but silence in response and I open my eyes to find Luke staring at me, like he did a few minutes ago. His gray eyes flashing.
“Oh yeah?” he finally asks, his tone tight.
“It’s…I think we’ve just—or I’ve—you know how you grow into a pattern? And you get bored with it? I think it’s that. I think it’s just me.” I bite my lips together, completely regretting my stupid admission.
Shit. Why did I have to bring up Dash? To Luke of all people?
“I don’t see how you could be.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Dash is an asshole. Always has been. And I’ve seen the way he is with you. He’s like that with everyone. Especially people he thinks he can control.”
“He doesn’t control me.”
“Then why do you do everything he asks?”
The blunt question floors me and my heart rate speeds up, my spine going rigid again. “I don’t think you know as much about my relationship as you think you do. We’ve been together for a long time. We have an understanding. Nobody controls anybody.”
“Sure didn’t look like it that day on your back porch. I may not know everything, but I’m not stupid.”
I take off the jacket and, as calmly as I can, rise to my feet. Handing it to him I say, “I should go.”
Luke takes the jacket with a light laugh. “So I can open up to you but you get to keep it all locked away?”
“No one asked you to open up. You chose to. And I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to discuss my relationship with another man.”
“You just said I wouldn’t be a real friend if I—”
“I know what I said.” I sigh. “I know.”
He places the jacket down beside him then gets up to meet me at my level, head and shoulders hunched so that we’re face-to-face—Luke only inches away. “Were friends, Coco. What difference does it make if I’m a man or a woman? You want to talk about your problems? I’ll listen. All I’ve got is time. Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t return the favor?”
“I’ve got Sheila for that.”
He laughs again, this time brushing my hair away from my face, before placing his hand lightly on my shoulder. “I’m willing to bet you don’t tell her like it is. I know Sheila and I’m also willing to bet she’s already shared her opinion of Dash. And I know for a fact it’s not a good one. So let me guess, you tell her what she wants to hear and keep the rest bottled up. Sound about right?”
I move to push his hand away, but he catches mine instead, holding me gently and tugging on my arm. “I’m not goin
g to judge you, if that’s what you think. I just want to be there for you like you have been for me. You gonna let me do that?”
I’m stuck on him again. Unable to look away as he searches my face. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, his hold on my hand just a tiny bit tighter. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then I close my eyes and say so quietly I’m not even sure he’ll be able to hear, “Sometimes, I’m just not sure he’s the one.”
When I open my eyes again, Luke is so close I let out a little gasp. And just when I think he’ll back up, realize how dangerous this situation is becoming, he inches even closer. My breaths are coming faster now and I’m sure it’s evident in the way my chest is heaving. I’m so busy trying to figure a way out of the inevitable when it simply happens. His lips only brush mine at first. They’re much softer than they look and I let out a little sigh in response, as Luke pulls in a deep breath. He tangles his fingers with mine and, as he tugs me toward him, I can’t help but rise up on my toes, tilting my chin upwards.
I half expect his mouth to smash against mine, for the moment to become a frenzied one, like bubbles bursting through the surface. But his actions remain slow and deliberate, my reciprocation mirroring them. His other hand slips around my waist, settling against the bare skin at the small of my back, fingers gently stroking the shallow dip of my spine. With my hand still in his, he brings it to his lips, kissing my knuckles before letting it drop. It doesn’t go far, splaying against his chest. My entire body vibrates in response to the rapid beating of his heart. Then his lips find mine again, his hands my hair.
He presses our mouths together gently and my stomach catapults and flutters so much it feels like I’m on some kind of roller coaster ride. And as his tongue finally darts out to taste mine, I realize that I am. That all this time I have been. From the moment I saw him at the hospital to the second he came to my rescue out in the driveway. His strange behavior at The L, the way he’s been looking at me lately. It’s been one big long ride, leading up to this moment. The moment where my legs turn to butter and an embarrassing little moan escapes me and I suddenly realize not every ride is a good idea.
Black Rose (Lewiston Blues Series/Black Family Saga Book 3) Page 12