“What I do to you. The way your body reacts to me? The way mine reacts to you?” Ryder kissed every inch of skin within reach. She was as nervous and excited as he was and judging by the small tremors that rocked her frame every time he bit into her neck, Jamie was just as intoxicated by him as he was by her.
“Maybe I’m just horny.”
“Maybe one day, you’ll admit the truth.”
“And what truth would that be?”
“That you’re here for more than dick.”
“One day,” she breathed, clinging to him.
Surprisingly, Jamie was happy about the, ‘everyone helps cook’, rule. Watching her with his mother, both of them moving around the kitchen with a comfortable ease, was Ryder’s idea of heaven. He didn’t realize how much alike they were until then. Perhaps it was what drew him to Jamie in the first place, his need to protect her, to erase the sadness in her eyes. To do the things he was too young and too afraid to do for his mom.
“Ma, do you remember our first Easter here?” Ryder asked as they took their seats at the dining room table. Although it was only three of them, Annette prepared enough food to feed a developing country. There was the traditional stuff like crack ham, mac and cheese, green beans and dinner rolls, but thanks to his mother’s new found obsession with Pinterest, they also had mini potpies and something that looked like a cross between a taco and a wonton.
Annette raised a brow. “You mean when you and Carlos nearly put a hole through the wall because he made fun of you for wanting to color eggs?”
“I’ve never seen you so angry in my life,” he chuckled.
“I was livid,” she smirked, putting emphasis on the last word. “We just moved in, I could barely afford the rent, and you two knuckleheads were fighting over Easter eggs.”
“Who’s Carlos?’ Jamie asked, helping herself to more crack ham.
“Javi’s older brother.”
“Oh, you were friends with him first, right?”
“Yeah. He’s still one of my best friends, but he’s married with a kid and real responsibilities, so he doesn’t hang out like he used to,” Ry explained. He chose to ignore the look his mother gave him. He and Carlos were the same age, and his mother had grandchildren, something Annette never let Ryder forget.
“You got into a fight over Easter eggs?”
“Napoleon was sensitive when he was younger.”
“He’s still sensitive,” Jamie mumbled around a glass of water.
Annette threw her head back in laughter, “She knows you well, son.”
Ryder also chose to ignore that. He was okay with sensitive, he embraced it. While some men would consider it a flaw, Ryder saw it as one of his greatest attributes. Because the thing he feared most, even more than his father, was becoming him.
“What’s next on the agenda?” Annette asked bagging up the leftovers for Jamie and Ryder to take with them.
Ryder looked to Jamie who was mid-yawn. “We were supposed to meet the guys at the bar, but we can just go home if you’re not up for it.”
Jamie smiled happily at him. “I’m fine with whatever you want.”
It was exactly what he wanted to hear after a near perfect day. Jamie was always so guarded, so strong, but whether it was the food coma his mother put them in or something else, seeing her so light gave him hope.
“Maybe we’ll swing by for a little bit. I just want to check on CT. He’s usually on edge after spending the day with his family,” he said, rubbing his nose against hers.
Jamie tugged at the hem of his shirt. “Sounds good, Napoleon.”
“Oh. My. Goodness!” Annette yelped. “You two are so stinking adorable. I need a picture.”
Ryder rolled his eyes as his mother scurried off into the kitchen. She returned moments later with her phone, and the set of rabbit ears she bought him. “Ma,” he groaned, “really with these fucking things?”
Annette narrowed her eyes. “Watch your mouth, and yes really, so put them on,” she demanded, pulling her ears off her head. She handed a pair to him and the other pair to Jamie.
“The real issue here,” Jamie said, “is that your mom has an iPhone and you don’t.”
At that, Ryder couldn’t help but laugh. He had a hard-enough time telling one of them no, but both?
Impossible.
Annette shuffled them to the entryway where she took no less than seventy-five pictures. She made them stand side by side, back to back, face to face, and every other goddamned combination she could think of. Just when he thought she was done, she pulled out a fucking selfie stick.
“Okay, I think you got it,” Ry said eyeing the godforsaken thing like it might bite.
“I need one of the three of us.”
“One more, make it count,” he grumbled, wrapping one arm around Jamie’s shoulder and the other around his mother’s. Annette connected her phone to the stick and extended the wand so it hovered three feet in front of them, then angled it until they were all in the picture.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Ma,” Ry warned.
“Okay, okay,” Annette said, and Jamie giggled.
They were driving him crazy, and he was loving every second of it. His mother clicked the button three times in rapid succession, then the screen went dark, before illuminating with an incoming call. The number wasn’t assigned, but the area code was one he’d never forget, 510.
Oakland.
Annette stilled, grasping at the phone, and quickly ended the call. Her eyes shot to her son, and what he saw behind hazel eyes that were identical to his own, was the one look he hoped he would never see again. “Who was that?” he asked, though he knew the answer deep down in his gut.
“Telemarketer,” she replied a little too quickly. Annette cleared her throat and started fiddling with her phone. “Y-you kids wanna see?”
“A telemarketer, on Easter?” He felt like someone hit him over the head with a lead pipe. This couldn’t be happening. Not today, of all days. It was Easter. It was their day, not his.
“Who knows?” his mother shrugged. She inhaled, scrubbing the emotion from her face. “Let’s take one more.”
Ryder pulled the ears off his head and threw them on the ground. One phone call and his universe was driven into darkness. It was a beautiful tragedy. His happiest day turned to ash all because his mother couldn’t help but look back. “Happy fucking Easter,” he growled, snatching open the front door. “Kitty Cat, let’s go.”
Jamie looked up at him, confused, “But—”
“Now, James,” his tone left no room for argument.
“Thank you for a lovely meal,” Jamie murmured as she walked out the open door.
“Wait,” his mom called after him. A tear slipped past her mask, and her voice cracked, “you’re forgetting the leftovers.”
“Send them to California,” he grunted, slamming the door behind them.
Ryder steered Jamie’s Range Rover out into the Seattle streets. His jaw ticked as he replayed the last ten minutes over in his mind. His mother lied and she didn’t even bother to come up with a good one.
A fucking telemarketer? Bullshit.
He recognized the guilt shimmering in her eyes as the lie spilled from her lips. It was a look he knew well. It was the same way she looked at him then, back in the dark ages, when his father ruled them with an iron fist.
For sixteen years, he admired her, worshipped at her feet as if she were a fucking saint. He trusted her to keep them safe. They were safe. They’d beaten the odds and escaped. Now, those sixteen years were down the drain, all because his mother decided to invite chaos back into her life.
It was a soul crushing realization, the woman he idolized—his hero—was flawed.
When Ryder was a child, he spoke as a child. He understood things as a child. His father was a bad man, and they had to run away, but as a man, Ryder understood his father was an alcoholic asshole who got his kicks from beating women and children. He understood the fate they would have
suffered had his mother not run. A fate, that after sixteen years, she decided to tempt.
“Fuck!” he yelled, banging his fist on the steering wheel. How could she do this? How could she talk to him after everything he did? She uprooted their lives to get away from him, and now what were they?
Friends?
Lovers?
The thought made him sick.
“Did I miss something?” Jamie asked, speaking for the first time since he stormed out of his mother’s house.
“No.”
Her reply was so soft he almost didn’t hear it, “You can talk to me. I’m here if you need me.”
The SUV rolled to a stop. The glow from the traffic light illuminated the dark cabin red. He watched from the corner of his eye as she brought her finger to her mouth and exhaled. Her tell. Her mind was racing too. He could only imagine what she was thinking. They were having a good night, laughing, eating, taking cheesy pictures with those goddamned bunny ears and in a split second, everything changed. All because of his fucking father.
“I’m fine, Kitty Cat.” Ryder did his best to keep his attitude in check. It wasn’t Jamie’s fault his father was a leech put on this earth to suck every glimmer of light from his mother.
Jamie turned slowly, unleashing the full force of her gaze onto him. When he stared into those emerald orbs, he swore he could see the past, present, and future. Normally, he loved that shit, but right now, he prayed for the light to turn green, because he wasn’t ready for that talk. Jamie didn’t need to be dragged into his fucked-up family history—not yet, not ever.
“If you’re fine then why are you strangling my steering wheel?” she asked, pointing to his hand. Ryder’s knuckles were white, his fingers numb.
“It’s nothing, James, drop it,” he snapped, flexing his hand.
The light changed, and his focus returned to the road. He’d hate to wreck her ninety-thousand-dollar graduation present.
“You don’t have to be so defensive.” Her words were measured, no anger, no pity, just calm, sensible, and annoying as fuck.
“The queen of shutting down is mad at me for not wanting to open up this one time about this one thing?” he asked. An ugly, bitter noise escaped his throat. “A bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”
“I’m trying, Ry. I thought that’s what you wanted?”
“Great timing, Kitty Cat,” he said giving her a sarcastic thumbs up. Funny how she was so eager to try when it was his bones they were digging up.
“I don’t need the gritty details. I’m just saying, don’t be an asshole to your mother. You’re lucky to have a mom like Annette. We don’t all get that.”
“What, did Mommy and Daddy buy you the wrong color Range Rover?” He was being a dick. Jamie was a lot of things but a brat wasn’t one of them. Guilt flooded Ryder’s subconscious, but pride kept him from apologizing. What was the point? The thing with words was that once spoken, they were rarely forgotten.
“Fuck you, Ryder. You don’t know shit about me.”
“And who’s fault is that?” he yelled, speeding down the empty street. He was pissed, at his mother, at his father, at Jamie, at the fucking world. The dam broke and the rage he struggled to maintain, gushed out. “I’ve been begging you for a fucking month to let me in. A month. You won’t talk to me! You don’t even sleep at the house for fuck’s sake!”
She shifted her body, resting her forehead on the glass, and stared out into the dark night. “Just forget I brought it up,” she whispered.
Silence swallowed them as they each retreated inside their own heads.
He was a jerk for taking his anger at his mother out on Jamie, but also, fuck her. Why was it okay for her to keep her secrets, but not him?
In a perfect world, there wouldn’t be anything between them, but the world they lived in wasn’t perfect, and neither were they. Perfection was an illusion perpetuated by insecurity. He didn’t want illusions with Kitty Cat, he wanted reality—and sometimes reality was fucked up.
Spotting the burgundy awning of the bar, he could feel his body start to relax. The double shot of fireball he was about to down would help calm his brain and if he was lucky, someone in there would have a blunt.
Ryder parked Jamie’s Rover at the end of the dark lot, sandwiching her car between a brick wall and CT’s Mustang, and killed the engine. He snuck a peek at his girl, hoping to gauge her mood. Her face was impassive, but he could tell by the way she sat with her back ramrod straight that she was pissed.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed. Ry didn’t want to fight, not with her too, “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
Jamie didn’t bother looking at him. She simply held out her hand, palm side up, and said, “Can I have my keys, please?”
“No.” He recoiled as if she’d slapped him.
“Give me my keys.” Her tone, her face, even her eyes were emotionless. It should have unnerved him, but after the day he had, it only pissed him off.
“I’ll break it down for you, so there’s no misunderstanding, N-O, No.” He was poking the bear. He wanted a reaction. Her wrath would be better than this bullshit act she was putting on. He wanted his Jamie, the girl who always had to have the last word.
“Napoleon,” she warned.
Opening the driver side door, he got out and slammed it shut behind him. She could be mad but he wasn’t going to let her run. Not tonight. Not when he needed her. He’d rather they be happy, he’d rather they be fucking, but he’d take fighting too. As was always the case with Kitty Cat, he’d take anything she was willing to give.
“Napoleon,” she screamed, jumping out of the car, “give me my goddamn keys!”
He ignored the angry grunts and insults she hurled at his back. Slipping the keys in his back pocket, he continued walking towards the entrance. His long legs ate up the distance in no time.
“What’s up Tee,” Ry greeted the doorman as he approached.
Tee was a tall, burly motherfucker with a sinister grin, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly, well, he would if the fly provoked him. “Ry, Kitty Cat,” Tee nodded, “you guys good?
“Yeah, man—” Jamie dug into his back pocket and pulled out her keys so quickly, she was halfway back to the parking lot before Ryder had a chance to react. “Give us a second,” he shouted over his shoulder, before turning to run after his girl. They looked ridiculous, him chasing her down the dark sidewalk, arguing about keys instead of the things they were afraid to speak into existence. “Jamie, I’m not in the mood for this shit.”
“Then go have fun with your friends and leave me alone.” She lifted her middle finger in the air, flipping him off as she went.
A low growl ripped from his chest. He grabbed her elbow, and yanked her forward, towards her car. If she wanted a fight, he would give her one. “Let’s get one thing straight,” Ryder growled, pushing her up against the hood of her Rover, his face inches from hers, “I will never leave you alone. Even when I’m pissed at you, and right now, I’m fucking enraged. There’s no running. You mad at me?” he barked. “Then tell me, damn it. Push me. Yell at me, I don’t care how you need to deal, but you deal.”
“You’re such a fucking bastard,” Jamie shoved her palms into his chest. The apathy drained from her irises leaving a fiery passion that sent a signal south of his brain. She thrashed around in his arms, but he wasn’t letting her go, not now, not later tonight, not ever if he had his way. She quickly realized it, and stopped fighting. Her chest heaved up and down. Her face was flushed, and her body trembled. She was either really pissed off, or really turned on. “I hate you so much.” Reaching up her dress, he slid her panties to the side, and just as he suspected, she was drenched. “That means nothing,” she growled.
“Tell me how much you hate me,” he pressed his body against hers. He needed this, to lose control with her. He spent too much time trying to control his emotions. Don’t be too angry, or too sensitive. Don’t care too much. Well fuck that.
“You’re a dick,” she moaned as he s
lipped two fingers inside her wet channel, “and you aren’t that great a singer.”
Ryder chuckled. “Always so damn feisty. I’m going to enjoy fucking the attitude out of you. Did I mention I love that you’re wearing a dress? I should pull my dick out right here, right now.”
“I thought you said the dress wasn’t me?” Jamie whimpered, clawing at his back.
“And I thought you said this meant nothing,” he retorted, adding a third finger. He was also going to enjoy fucking the sarcasm from her tone. His balls ached, he needed to feel her, to sink into her, and fuck every ounce of anger and frustration out of his body.
“It doesn’t.”
Ryder slid his fingers out, and she mewled in protest. “Am I still a dick?” he smirked as he unzipped his jeans, freeing his erection.
“Yes,” she gasped as he rubbed the tip of his cock through her folds. So. Fucking. Hot. “What if someone sees?” It wasn’t a protest. She was down to fuck. It didn’t matter that they were in the parking lot, up against her car. She wanted it as badly as he did.
The bar was the only thing on that side of the street. They were alone in the parking lot, in the world, for that matter. Nothing and no one else existed. She carried the entire universe between her legs and he held the key to unlocking the mysteries of the sun and the stars and the planets between his. “No one will see, but if they do, let’s give them one hell of a show.”
“Condom,” she moaned, laying back against the hood of her shiny white Range Rover. The sight of her propped up on the car with her legs spread wide for him, nearly knocked him on his ass. He lifted the hem of her dress. The tiny swath of fabric only covered half of her pussy. She looked delicious, so good he couldn’t stop himself from having a taste. Ryder bent down as far as he could with the building behind him and kissed her there, licking her, swirling his tongue inside her wetness.
“Are you on birth control?” he asked, biting the inside of her thigh.
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