“No,” he said gruffly. “I don’t share it with anyone. And don’t tell anyone you brought me here either.”
“But what about--“
“I’m serious, Rosalie. No one.”
“Not even my dad?”
“Especially not your dad. I don’t want Joanna knowing, okay?”
“She doesn’t know?”
“Can you just shut up long enough for me to look? Maybe you should have stayed in the car.”
“Okay, I’m shutting up.”
He shot me a look with daggers in his eyes. I opened my mouth to apologize, then quickly closed it. I was already on shaky ground with him, I’d better quit while I was ahead.
I had so many questions for him. He was always Shane the hottie, Shane the jock, or Shane the bad boy, and now he was Shane the artist. He was more complicated than I thought.
We didn’t speak on the ride back from the store. As soon as we got back home, Shane carried his stuff up to his bedroom. It was days later when I saw him again and everything changed.
Chapter Seven
Rosalie
I had the day off from work and was sitting in the living room reading when he came down the stairs. He was shirtless, so I lifted my book up a little higher and pretended to be reading while I admired his body.
He had a new rose tattoo on his bicep, but that only distracted me a little before my eyes traveled over his chest. My gaze shifted slowly down to his tight abs and followed his happy trail to his low-rise jeans. I didn’t need to use my imagination to picture what was in his jeans.
“The view the other day wasn’t enough? You know, you’re not supposed to look at me like that,” he said.
Shit!
“I’m...umm...reading,” I said.
“Whatever, I know what I saw. As long as I’m living here, nothing can happen between us. It’s just wrong.”
He put on a white fitted shirt and rolled up the sleeves as he looked out the window.
“So when does Shane the asshole show up again?” I asked.
“Shane the asshole is always here, never forget that.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and tilted his head as he looked at my book. “What crap are you reading?”
“It’s none of your business.” I slipped the book under a throw pillow.
“That’s one of those burning loins books, isn’t it? I saw the man titty on the cover. My grandmother used to read those with Fabio dressed as a pirate or whatever.” With a few quick steps, he crossed the room and swiped my book out from under the pillow.
“It’s not one of those books. It’s just romance. Now give me back my book!”
He opened the book and started flipping through the pages. Settling on a page, he started to read, then looked at me with a crooked smile.
“My grandmother didn’t read anything like this. This is porn,” he said with a laugh.
“Give it back. It is not porn.”
I got up from the couch and tried to grab the book out of his hands, but he lifted it higher.
“It is porn. It has cock in it and right here she’s talking about her wet pussy. Do you use this to get off? Does it make your pussy wet?”
I jumped up and snatched it out of his hands, but he caught me as I tried to get away.
“I was reading that,” he said as he reached for the book.
As I tried to pull away, I tripped and fell onto the couch, pulling him along with me. I was on my back and he was on top of me. His warm breath was so close it gave me goosebumps, and my nipples hardened. I forgot all about the book until he yanked it out of my hands, then sat on the floor and opened it again.
“Where’d that wet pussy go?” he said as he flipped through the pages again.
It’s right here.
I smacked him on the head with the throw pillow and sat up.
“Sounds like you need it more than I do,” I said.
Shane put the book down and turned towards me. His intense green eyes locked with mine.
“How badly do you need it?” he asked as he cocked an eyebrow at me.
He wasn’t talking about the book. Even I wasn’t stupid enough to think that. Like flipping a switch, my body reacted to his words.
I need it bad. My body throbbed its answer from between my legs.
A car pulled into the driveway and Shane peeked out the window. He held up my book with a crooked smile.
“If you need it, you know where to find me,” he said.
With the book in his hands, he went up to his bedroom. I wanted my book back, and I wanted more of whatever just happened. I was about to go after him when my dad entered the house.
“You and Shane will have to fend for yourselves tonight, Rosalie,” Dad said. “Joanna has a late meeting and I have to get back to school for parent-teacher conferences.” He dug into his wallet, pulled out some cash, and placed it by the phone. “That should be enough for dinner.”
“Thanks, Dad. Do you want me to order something for you?”
“No, don’t worry about me. Sorry about telling you at the last minute.”
Shortly after my dad vanished into his bedroom, I heard the water for the shower start. I went upstairs and was going to get my book back from Shane but saw his bedroom door was closed. Knowing how sensitive I was about my own privacy, I knocked on the door.
After waiting a minute, I gave up. Shane obviously didn’t want to be bothered again. I walked back to my room, opened the door, and found Shane sitting on my bed reading. It brought back everything from my stepfather. I wanted him gone.
“What are you doing in here?” I said angrily. “I didn’t say you could enter my room. Get out!”
“Get out? Am I not allowed in the princess’s room?”
“Just go. Get out! How dare you just come into my room without asking?”
“You got a problem with my being in here? Don’t tell me you never dreamed about having me in your bedroom.” He stood from the bed, the book still in his hand, and glared at me. “I know you want it, and it has nothing to do with your fucking porn. I’ve seen how you look at me. I bet you’re wet right now thinking about it.”
For a moment I was too stunned to do anything, but my anger took over and I went after him.
“Don’t talk to me that way,” I said.
“What? Did I get your panties in a bunch? Or does it bother you that even now despite how angry you are at me, your nipples are saluting me?”
I folded my arms over my chest. Stupid body. I couldn't help how my body reacted towards him. It betrayed me every time he was near.
“Get out now! And leave my book,” I said.
“I don’t want your ridiculous book.”
He threw the book onto the bed and stormed past me into the hall. I slammed the door shut as he left, thankful that my tears didn’t start until after he was gone.
I didn’t know how much time had passed, but the sun had started to set when I heard the doorbell ring. I peeked out my bedroom window and saw the Palermo’s delivery van parked in front of the house. Just seeing the car made me realize how hungry I was. Palermo’s was my favorite restaurant, and I wondered if Shane knew and was enough of an asshole to not order anything for me.
I left my bedroom, closing the door behind me like I always did. Shane was seated at the dining room table eating pizza.
“Can I have some of your pizza?” I asked.
“No, get your own food.”
“You could’ve told me you were ordering dinner.”
He didn’t answer. He kept his eyes on me, that same look from school where I felt like he was seeing me naked as he shoved a slice into his mouth and took a big bite.
I folded my arms over my breasts, trying to hide myself from his x-ray vision, and entered the kitchen. On the counter was a white bag with Palermo’s written across it. A receipt was stapled to the bag, and ‘Rosalie’ was written on it.
As I opened the bag, the smell of garlic knots rose up and my mouth watered. Also in the bag was Fettuccine Alfredo with gr
ound sausage, my favorite dish. I grabbed two plates and brought the bag to the dining room.
“Thank you for ordering for me,” I said. “Do you want some?”
“Nah, I like their pizza.”
We sat in silence while we ate. I caught Shane looking at me every so often, but instead of speaking, he ate more pizza. For once, I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to mess up this moment.
Shane finished his pizza and stared at me. Anytime I looked up, his gaze was still there. He wouldn’t stop and I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to until I felt myself blushing.
“Do I have Alfredo all over my face?” I asked.
I reached for a napkin and his hand closed over mine.
“I’m sorry about before,” he said, his voice husky.
“Just forget about it.”
“No, I should know better. When I was in jail, if someone entered my space, I would’ve kicked their ass.”
“I overreacted. I’m sensitive about my room, my space. I can’t help it.”
“Is that why you’re here?” he asked.
I nodded.
“You don’t have to say anything else. I understand.”
He squeezed my hand, and somehow I knew he really did understand.
“About what you said in my room...”
“Again, I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought maybe something was going on between us and I stupidly thought we could continue it.”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking the same thing.”
“Well, we can’t. Not here, not in this house.”
“Then let’s go somewhere else.”
We decided to head into New Brunswick where there were several large hotels and enough people that no one would notice us. On the ride there, Shane pointed to a 7-Eleven convenience store and asked me to pull in. He came back out after a few minutes with a grocery bag full of stuff.
“What did you get?” I asked, trying to peek into the bag.
“Essentials.” He swatted my hand away. “Now keep driving.”
The Hyatt hotel was one of the tallest buildings in the city and overlooked the river. We had no problem getting a room and rode up the glass elevator in silence. My heart was pounding in my chest. I had never done anything like this before, but the thought of being alone in a room with Shane and nothing else but a bed was too good to pass up.
As the elevator doors opened, Shane took my hand and we followed the numbers to our room. He flicked on the lights and set the grocery bag down on the desk next to the television.
In the center of the room was a king-sized bed with brown and cream colored sheets. It faced a wall of windows that were covered with long drapes.
I was beginning to feel awkward, like some kind of slut. I sat on the edge of the bed and wrung my hands together. Shane sat beside me, pushed my hair over my shoulder, and whispered huskily in my ear.
“I know what you want.”
His voice gave me chills and my nerves slipped away. I turned to him, hoping he would kiss me again, but instead he stood up and started emptying the bag from the convenience store. I was beyond confused.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I know what you want,” he said, his voice different from just a minute ago. “Ice cream.”
He held up several pints of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and a box of plastic spoons, balanced them in his arms, grabbed the television remote, and set them down on one of the nightstands next to the bed.
“Let’s go,” he said as he patted the head of the bed. “Get your ass up here.”
He propped up some pillows and took off his boots before leaning back against the headboard. I kicked off my sneakers and sat cross-legged beside him.
“Do you have cookie dough?”
“Of course. It’s your favorite,” he said as he handed me a pint.
“How do you know that? And my favorite from Palermo’s too. How did you guess that?”
“I didn’t guess, I know,” he said. “Your father talks about you a lot and I have to say I enjoy listening. When I was in jail, I didn’t have much else to do besides listen.”
“I didn’t think this was what you were getting when you went to the 7-Eleven.”
“What did you think I was getting? Condoms?”
“Actually, yes,” I said, laughing.
“I got those too.” His face got serious and he leaned in closer to me. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to fuck you right now. But this isn’t how I imagined it.”
I was stunned. The guy I had been crazy about had imagined having sex with me?
“You imagine it with everyone, don’t you?”
“No,” he scoffed. “I know what my rep at school was and there was a reason for that. I’ve had my fair share of pussy, but it all stopped when I saw you.”
“You are so full of it.”
“Here’s the thing, Rosalie. You are too good for me. My life is so fucked up, and you’ve got a future ahead of you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about us. We can’t happen. I’m a fucking black cat. I’m nothing but bad luck. Everything I do gets fucked sideways. Remember that day when your dad and Joanna announced they were married? I had seen you before then, before I even said anything to you. It’s my fucking bad luck that you’re off limits. And what happened with Seth was more of my bad luck, too.”
“Well, I sometimes think I’m pretty lucky, so maybe we’ll cancel each other out,” I said.
“You can’t be that lucky or you wouldn’t have left your mom.”
“What happened with your dad?”
He lowered his head and shoved a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.
“You want the CliffsNotes version?” he asked.
“No, I want to know everything.”
A pained expression passed over his face. He let out a long sigh, then shook his head.
“I can’t tell you everything,” he said. “Don’t ask why, I just can’t right now.”
His eyes pleaded with me to understand and I nodded, afraid of saying anything that would silence him.
“I’m sure your dad told you about my pop. We were really close and what’s funny is you and I even met when we were kids, when my dad and Joanna were still together, but I know you don’t remember that. You had a doll with you and you both had on matching tiaras.”
I laughed. “I remember that doll. I used to take her everywhere.”
“I was a stupid kid, it’s no wonder you don’t remember me. I thought you were a princess, like a real princess. You were so pretty and you had that tiara. We were probably around six and I was too afraid to talk to you then.”
“Hmm, six. That explains a lot.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t remember much from when I was six. Well, I remember one thing, in a parking lot, and I don’t know if it’s real or not. Anyway, forget about it. We’re not talking about me.”
“We are, why do you think I call you princess?” he said with a crooked smile.
“You usually call me that when you’re pissed off.”
“I call you that when I’m pissed you’re off limits.”
It was my turn to look away. I had never blushed so much in my life, but it seemed Shane had that effect on me. It was a little embarrassing.
“So like I said, my pop and I were close. He used to take me everywhere. My dad had a problem though. He was an addict.”
“Is that how you got involved with drugs?”
“Kinda. I was never an addict like my pop. I never used other than smoking some pot once in a blue moon. I saw what it did to people and I didn’t want anything to do with it. But sometimes you just don’t have a choice.”
Ten Years Ago
“Get out!” Joanna screamed. “You lost your job, you spent all of our savings, and now I find out that not only have you been cheating on me, but you’re dealing too? What about Shane? Did you get him involved in your shit? No, do
n’t answer that. I don’t want to know. Just get out, Ryan. I’m done. I’ve had it.”
Joanna stormed out of the room, leaving my father crying with his face in his hands. I was only eight, but I knew a lot more about adult things than my peers. Cautiously, I put my hand on my father’s shoulder.
“Is there anything I can do, Pop?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know, Shane. I don’t know. I messed up bad, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. Joanna wants me gone. You have to make a choice, are you coming with me or staying here?”
I didn’t see it as a choice; my father needed me, Joanna didn’t. I wasn’t her son anyway. I saw how things were when I was around, I was nothing but a thorn in her side.
“Where will we go?” I asked.
“To your grandmother’s in Philly. She’ll take us in. Don’t tell Joanna though.”
“Why not?”
“Because your grandmother and her don’t get along.”
I had only seen my grandmother a handful of times, and most of them were when we picked her up at the train station during a visit. We never went to visit her in Philly and that day I found out why.
Grandma Ventana, or Abuela as she wanted me to call her, lived in the ghetto. The buildings around hers were in disrepair, rotting, and falling apart. Some of them looked condemned with boarded-up windows, but people still lived in them.
Abuela’s home was off an unmaintained street in a forgotten part of the city. The brick tenements were so close to each other that some leaned against the others. The air had a bad combination of filth and decay.
The wide sidewalk in front of her house was busy. Hanging between the buildings over the street were electrical wires and clotheslines with shoes dangling by their laces. I soon learned the hanging shoes was a sign that drugs were sold in that area.
Abuela sat in a rickety lawn chair in front of her building. She stood as we walked up the street from the train station, her head shaking with disappointment.
“Sinvergüenza,” she said, looking at my father. “It’s the drugs, isn’t it? Get inside and I’ll make you something to eat.”
As Abuela fried drumsticks, my dad and I sat at the large dining room table. The room was painted a bright orange and a large crucifix hung on one of the walls.
Forbidden Page 5