The Significant Other (The Relationship Quo Series Book 4)

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The Significant Other (The Relationship Quo Series Book 4) Page 14

by Nicole Strycharz


  I bit my lip and glanced up at Diego.

  Diego took over for me, “No one says no to Trixie’s cooking, Bro. It’s just not done.”

  Liam finally agreed. After we got him up Diego walked home with us. On the stairs, to our floor, I whispered, “Thanks… you don’t have to stay.”

  “Trix, you don’t know him. Yes, I do. I don’t have nothing good to do with my time anyway. It’s good you’re so kind but you have to be careful too.”

  I nodded. I know Liam is good. I don’t know why… I feel it inside myself that he’s a good man so I’m not afraid but common sense dictates this is already weird so Diego should be here. I think his being here keeps Liam from feeling wrong-er about it.

  We got inside and I brought Buddy a bowl of water. The apartment is so warm and toasty that I’m hoping it’s defrosting Liam.

  “You should shower,” Diego whispered to him. “Heat… I have clothes you can borrow.”

  I love Diego, he’s amazing and right now I love him even more. I pretended not to hear them as I tended to Buddy, rubbing his fur and paws down with a towel.

  “I can’t do that…” Liam argued. With my side vision, I saw him glance at me. He’s a gentleman to the bone I think.

  “You can use our shower across the hall,” Diego suggested. “It’s a bachelor pad. Trix has a really big heart. If she considers you a friend, you’ll break it if you don’t take her up on caring.”

  After a few minutes, he followed Diego across the hall. I’m sure Blaze won’t mind.

  I took a breath and continued to love up Buddy. Liam does something to me. The idea of him trapped in the cold…

  I can’t imagine how out of the question this would all be if Adam was home but Adam is the robot. I don’t love that part of him that can’t feel or doesn’t want to. That part that doesn’t understand me.

  I swallowed. Then again, maybe, he’s doing things I wouldn’t agree with right now either.

  ADAM

  I’m used to feeling like a dick, but this was different. Chance sort of sucker punched my buried emotions and now I feel raw. There’s more to Chance than what people see; more than what I let myself see.

  I came up to our room at around six pm. It started snowing after our confrontation and I decided to avoid him and wander the town. There is a Quaker community ten miles west of here so a lot of the stores sell things made by them. Including baked goods.

  This might be the stupidest thing I have ever done, but I bought something…

  When I came into the room, Chance was by the window on his cell. His shirt was open to reveal a white undershirt that was straining across his chest. He’s overwhelming to look at for long.

  He saw me and wrapped it up, “Yeah, sounds good. Take care of yourself.” Long pause. “He’ll be fine.” He turned away from me as I set down both my brown bags. “I’ll call him later. Tomorrow. Yeah. That’s fine.”

  He hung up and I crossed my arms, “So, I’m an asshole and… I’m aware of that. I get told daily by my girlfriend, band members and occasionally strangers…”

  He just watched me.

  I gestured to the bags, “Hence, I have decided to make a mends.” I pulled out a really old looking bottle of whiskey. “Check it out,” I turned it in my hand, “it’s made from potatoes….”

  The corner of his lips curved, giving him away.

  I pulled the homemade banana bread, “Ta da! Happy Maybe Birthday!” I tried to sound less like a cyborg.

  He raised his brows, “Wow, what is it?”

  “Banana bread made by Quakers, no less.”

  He leaned his back into the wall, “I don’t eat sweets.”

  I gave him a flat look, “Are you serious right now?” “I’ll take the whiskey, though,” he came over and motioned for it.

  I handed the bottle over and said, “Thank you, Adam. You’re welcome, Chance. I really appreciate that you tried to apologize, Adam.” I mimicked.

  He opened the bottle and poured it into two flowery tea cups. “Drink?” He asked, ignoring me.

  I took the cup he offered and we sat at the ridiculously girly table and watched the snow fall from the window.

  “You said that your mistakes led you to all you have,” I remembered out loud. “How so?” I was trying to be open minded. I wanted the story. He intrigued me outside with his fire about love and living.

  “Prison…” he answered.

  That was vague. “I might hate saying it but my lack of ‘passion’ makes it hard for me to understand.”

  He seemed to get that I needed a better picture. He leaned back and turned his cup as he spoke. “I dropped out of high school because my mother couldn’t support us. The only job I could get was pushing drugs. So I did. It fed us.”

  I asked carefully, “Your mom…didn’t she try to keep you in school?”

  “She was never a strong person but then she met Jax, and he got her addicted to heroin. She would spend money as fast as she made it. I used to hide what I made. I was actually working for him I didn’t even know it. No one ever dealt directly with Jax at that time. I also started carjacking. My first time getting put away was for that, I was eighteen.” He responded as robotically as I usually do.

  “So you were just trying to provide for you and your mother?” I asked.

  He drank more and I wondered if the alcohol was what made him so flexible to talk. “My mother and Lamar.” He corrected.

  “The military guy?” I guessed.

  He nodded, “He grew up with me in the same apartment building. His parents were never around. He got a job but it was clean, under the table money and it wasn’t much. We fell in love when we were thirteen, so I always made sure he was taken care of too.”

  I poured us more whiskey, “That’s why you and Jax have bad blood? Because working for him got you put away?”

  “We have bad blood because sometime after I got out; like three years later, he abused my mother. She was a fucking mess. Jax and I got into an ugly altercation over it, so I started carrying a gun. That led to getting put away a second time, one year. I didn’t have a permit.”

  “All for them? Lamar and your mother?”

  He cleared his throat, “Yeah. Went away the last time for two years. I already had the club but I was still pushing drugs. Got two years for possession.”

  Is it weird his dark past makes him more attractive? I think so. Why would a hot mess like Chance seem beautiful to me?

  “Why still let Jax into the bar? Get him out of your life. Fuck him…” I suggested.

  He shook his head slowly while watching the snow, “He’s good for business.”

  “But he’s a constant reminder to you of shitty times. You don’t need him to make money. Have you looked at your club? That place is to the brim every night.”

  He poured more, “Maybe I’m greedy? I wouldn’t do anything to risk the revenue of the club.”

  I see it now. I don’t agree but I get it. He would never compromise where his money comes from because he’s never going to allow himself to go back to that other life; the uncertain one he came from.

  We went silent a while. He asked me about my issues with public display and just like that, I told him. I told him the same story I told Trix, but Trix waited ten years to get it from me. Why was I telling this stranger?

  “It’s not as dramatic as your story,” I laughed.

  He laughed too, “No, but it’s not why you’re a robot, though.”

  “Were you listening? I’m no therapist but I’d say what happened to me accounts for my issues.”

  He shook his head again, “I was listening. You were robotic before the incident at prom. Prom just embedded your problems.” He drank from the bottle. We’d progressed during our sharing time to drinking from the bottle, not the dainty-ass tea cups.

  Every time I brought the top to my lips I tasted this faint bit of Chance. It was causing a zipping sensation in my wrists and throat.

  I frowned at him, “What?”
<
br />   “Yeah,” he slid me the bottle, “You were already bad at showing how you feel.”

  I never connected those dots before. “If you are so smart,” I tried to stand up and the floor spun, “Fuck,” I groaned but used the table for support. “If you are so smart, how do I fix it? Before Trixie decides to finally get enough balls to leave me?” I laughed at myself.

  He stood up and wavered but recovered. He shed his shirt a long time ago, now he was only in his undershirt. My eyes drew to every line, and every twitch in his muscles. “You can’t handle my advice…” he stumbled over to the bed and sat down. He held his face in his hands because like me, the floor spinning was getting to us. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

  I straightened and drank more liquid courage before going to stand in front of him, “Don’t tell me what the fuck I can handle.” I slurred. “Say it.”

  He stood up and came eye to eye with me, “You say robot…how hard is it to find the right setting?” He set his hand on my side when I leaned too far in from dizziness. “People like you…all them walls…. It’s not to keep people out, Adam. You’re keeping yourself in.”

  I kept his eyes, as intense as the moment was. “And why would I do that?”

  He grinned before coming closer, “Because your brand of love might kill someone.”

  Yes, precisely. I’m jealous, territorial, bossy, and fierce. If I let myself feel all those things I might run the people I love way off. I keep myself wrapped tight to avoid flooding someone with my needs. He got it.

  I can’t believe myself. I kissed him. It wasn’t gentle or sweet, it was hungry and forceful. He held behind my neck and pulled me into him like the dream. Damn that dream. I reached up under his arms to grasp his shoulders and crushed him to me. His chest is as wide as mine and though our hearts are on opposite sides, they feel like they synced up to create a deafening thunder.

  His lips taste like peppermint, his tongue is sweet. When he slants his head to take more of me, our beards brush and it sends a call to my groin.

  This kiss, it’s bringing me to life. I feel fully awake, fully sober… and all I want is him.

  My phone vibrated in my back pocket and like an alarm bell I realized this wasn’t Trix, and I cut it off the kiss. I cut it off with a swift punch to his jaw.

  He took it with a look of shock but no anger. He actually looked entertained. “So you can defend yourself.” He smiled.

  “I’ve never cheated on Trix. Never.” I panted but it was from arousal, “I won’t start now.”

  “Yeah you have,” he moved his jaw side to side, like to test its abilities. “You were unfaithful to her the minute we met. In here,” he tapped his temple.

  I turned to walk out but he grabbed me by the shirt and jerked me around. We collided before kissing the seconds away. Our breathing came in uneven gasps and I savored the feelings that threatened to ruin my sanity.

  I tried to swing at him again but he caught my fist in his own and pulled me closer. I walked us backward toward the bed and pressed his shoulders down. He sat after fighting me and pulled at my belt. I’m so hard I can’t think. I’m not trying to. I pulled off his undershirt then gripped his neck for a kiss. He’s marked everywhere. The skull and crossbones across his chest are what stand out the most. I pushed my hands all over the taut surface, feeling him for myself.

  He jumped up from the bed and ripped the front of my shirt open. I stripped it then brought kisses down on his neck. At equal height, he makes tasting him easy.

  We fell on the bed and began a power struggle. He’s like water, forging paths in powerful outbursts and I’m like wind, bending things to my will. His upper body would pin me down until he weakened from the touches I showered his body with. It was then he would give and let me force him on his back.

  Are we wrestling or making love? An observer might not be too sure but I love it and I love the strength of his desire. He meets me force for force.

  Until my phone buzzed. Guilt hit me hard. I sat up from beside him; stopping this before it goes beyond a place I can retreat from. I held my head in my hands and tried to breathe deep.

  He lay still on his back looking up at nothing. I would pay to hear his thoughts.

  I sucked in air, “I can’t. This isn’t- Trix. I can’t do that to her, I know how being cheated feels. Besides, even if I didn’t have her…” I think I’m just telling myself. “I don’t do men… not anymore.”

  He stayed there a few seconds more and then stood up and went to the table where the whiskey was. His bare back was giving me heart palpitations.

  “Then you should call your girlfriend, and we should sleep.” He said before drinking.

  Sleep where? If I lay beside him my hands will become my worst enemy.

  He read my thoughts, “Don’t panic,” he pulled on his shirt. “I wouldn’t put myself through something that could be fantastic only to have to deal with one of your bumpy guilt trips.” He left the room, shutting the door with enough power to rattle the lace on the lamps.

  He didn’t come back even when I almost wanted him to.

  Chapter Thirteen

  TRIXIE

  I called Adam one last time but when he didn’t answer I went back into the apartment. Diego and Knox are sitting with Liam at the table, while Blaze is watching a movie on the sofa. Jolee is on the floor loving up Buddy and as soon as I walked in, Liam’s kind eyes met mine.

  He’s trying to not feel so awkward but I can feel it on him. I went back to the stove and checked my dumplings.

  “I wonder how the club is fairing,” said Knox. “We’re lucky this meeting happened during our days off.”

  “That’s true.” I agreed.

  “Gracias for letting us sign your guitar,” said Diego to Liam.

  Liam closed his hands around the warmth of his coffee mug. “I love your music so I’m the one that should say thanks.” He told him.

  “The college kids in the movie just made it to the haunted playground!” Blaze yelled.

  Knox and Diego almost fell over themselves to hang over the back of the sofa and watch the TV.

  Liam smiled, “Horror movie fans?” He asked.

  I glanced his way, as I stirred my stew. “I love anything about college kids ending up stranded or trapped. They make hilarious decisions.”

  He laughed a little. “That smells awesome.”

  I looked over my shoulder at him, “I happen to be the world’s best cook.” I turned to face him and pointed to my apron, “See?” It said, ‘world’s best cook,’ across the front. “The guys gave it to me.”

  He smiled, “By the smell, I have to agree.”

  I worked with him sitting behind me and felt pretty peaceful. The group in the living area was either laughing or talking and the snow had calmed down.

  “Trixie…” Liam’s voice made me pause to see him, “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings that day. I didn’t mean to shut you out-.”

  I shook my head, “I was prying. Don’t apologize. I asked you a really personal question. I was just having a bad week.”

  He hung his head a second then looks up at me. He’s all fresh and clean from his shower and now the scruff is gone. He’s in a pair of jeans and a plaid button-down from Knox that shows off his broad shoulders. “I didn’t tell you because it might change how you feel about me.”

  I sided onto a stool near him and combed my fingers through my tresses. “We all have baggage, Liam.”

  His eyes dulled, “I put myself here. I made some bad choices when I was younger.”

  “At least you can admit to that.” I smiled to take the edge off, “but I wasn’t going to let you freeze under that bridge. Neither was Buddy.”

  The smile on his face brought hope. “What will your boyfriend think about my staying here?”

  “You are staying with the boys next door, not me. Besides, he’s not my boss.” After a second I put my hand over his on the table. It felt tingly. Sort of like petting a hotwire. “You don’t hav
e to tell me anything until you’re ready but just know that when you do, I’ll be judging you by who you are now, not who you were then.”

  When Adam came home the next day I didn’t tell him about Liam. He was too grouchy but as soon as Chance and I were at work I rushed over to him during a dull moment. He was mixing up drinks behind the bar.

  “Hey, Boss,” I smiled and waved.

  He seemed as grouchy as Adam. I was worried at first about the two of them stuck together so long but now I’m beginning to think nothing happened and that they just can’t stand one another.

  “What do you want?” He asked in a snap.

  “I sort of, kind of, have a little bitty favor to ask.”

  He flicked his gaze toward me as he shook up a margarita. “The last favor you asked is bussing tables. How does your sister like her job?”

  “You have to admit she’s a good worker. She’s done great here, hasn’t she? No trouble at all.” I felt such irritation coming off him and it felt directed at me. “Chance, I’m not trying to take advantage of you… it’s just that… I have this friend… and he can’t find work… because of his past. Well, you know what it can be like-.”

  “Why would you think that?” He arched a brow and I found no humor in his eyes.

  “Because…” I thought better of comparing the situation, “Never mind, he just needs a job. He’s dependable. He’s got great people skills, he’s friendly…”

  He served up the drinks, “No.”

  I was a little taken aback, “No?”

  “I’m not paying you to stand around in short skirts, Trix. Serve these,” he scooted me the tray and dismissed me.

  “Did I do something to tick you off?” I asked.

  “This isn’t me pissed off, this is me firing a warning shot. If I get pissed off you won’t have a job. Move it.” He went past me and I swallowed around the lump in my throat.

  I served everyone and kept up with my tables. Tonight was a packed night, so I already made well over five hundred and that was what would be going home with me.

 

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