Brawler (8 page)

M
aking her face fall like that physically hurt. Why I can’t just talk to her without causing her pain is beyond me. So I give it to her straight, needing her to know that I can do this — fuck that — we can do this. But the Macy I know has an answer and ten questions for everything.

I couldn’t stand there another second listening to every excuse she could come up with for us not to be together. I mean, she’s wicked smart so she could do this shit for hours. Instead, I went with flooding her senses. By that, I mean sticking my tongue down her throat to shut her up.

For about three seconds I was worried I fucked up again. But when she fisted my hair and moaned? (She did moan, too; no chick has ever fucking moaned for me before and meant it).

I’m not embarrassed to say I lost my shit a little.

She did this thing with her tongue I swear was illegal. She was so skilled, I swear it felt like she had multiple tongues.. My eyes wanted to roll back even though they were closed, and I can safely say that’s a first. We were consuming each other, and it was everything I’d hoped it’d be and more. For some insane reason, I wanted all of our firsts to be together, like Rogan and Venessa, and even the sane part of me knew that wasn’t fair. Logically, we’ve been with other people, but the thought of her with someone else — possibly multiple someone elses — killed the moment for me. Then I thought of her with Briggs, thought of her fisting
his
hair. I wanted to control my anger, I really did, but then the thought of him taking what she offered then using it to hurt her … it was just too much.

I said she was wicked smart, didn’t I? Yeah, well, she picked up on it immediately.

She steadied her breathing and backed away. When she looked up at me, her eyes were clouded with lust, confusion, and a heavy dose of insecurity.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then why did you —”

“How many men have you been with Macy?”

“You want to talk about this
now
?”

“How many?” I grit through my teeth.

“I’d have to think about that.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, why would I? I don’t just sit around with past flings in my head, do you?”

“Four.”

“Four?”

“Yes, four! That’s how many chicks I’ve had, Macy. Four. Each was forgettable, but even I know how many. Any adult knows how many fucking people she’s fucked, so how is Little Miss I Love Knowledge not aware of how many partners she’s had? You ain’t the type to not know this shit.”

“Why are you acting like this right now?”

“Because I want a fucking answer!”

She flinches and backs away, and I feel like the biggest dick on earth. What the fuck is wrong with me? Yes, I know four is pathetic number, okay? Chicks aren’t that into me, never have been. She stares at the floor, then drops her shoulders to go sit on the couch. I can see she’s in deep thought about this, and it’s driving me bat shit. She has to think on it? Seriously? She’s hot, I admit it, but how does she not know? Hot chicks—hell especially the ugly ones—know this shit, I know they do. They sit around painting their toes talking about it. Fuck! Deciding to let her think I head into the kitchen and grab a beer. I’m not prone to drinking very often, but this is an emergency. The beer does nothing to calm my nerves, but looking at her does. She’s curled up on my couch with her knees to her chest with her eyes closed counting, on her fingers. I’m disturbed to see she’s counting on her other hand now. Jesus Christ!

I should have never fucking asked.

She opens her eyes and looks very sad. Again, guilt weighs me down. I know that I’m no more Rogan than she is Venessa, but dammit, I wanted to have firsts with her, too. She’s looking directly at me wondering if she should say anything. Judging by her hand counting I decide I don’t really want to know. Another thing about her, she thinks before she speaks. So when she started talking I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or punch a hole in the fucking wall.

“I’ve had nine partners if you don’t count Daniel Douglas. He had a really difficult time figuring out which hole to use. So I don’t think his oopsie counts, and we never actually finished because I deviated his septum and he went to the ER. So nine is my answer, and I’d like to strike Daniel from the record.”

“So I’d be lucky nine then?”

“Is this a contest you’re trying to win?”
No, just you’re fucking heart
I think to myself.

“No contest. I guess I just didn’t think someone like you would have nine partners, not counting ‘back door Daniel,’ of course.”

“Someone like me? Oh, right … I get it.”

“Not what I meant.”

“It’s what you said.”

Then it hit me exactly what I said. Motherfucker! Couldn’t this be one of those times she got what I was trying to say?

“I meant you seem to set your bar pretty high in life, so I’m just surprised to hear such a high number. You’ve never married, so they must not have been worth keeping around, or they moved onto greener pastures. You were with Briggs a while, so outside of a jail sentence, I’m guessing you two’d still be together.”

“Moved on to — Briggs — You know what? Just stop talking, please.”

“Now you sound like every other woman I’ve ever met.” She flinches, which pisses me off even more because I want her to stand up to me.

“No wonder you’re fucking single,” she says, walking away from me.

She gives me the last parting jab, and me being me, I refuse to let it stand. I make matters worse by opening my fucking mouth, knowing full well I didn’t mean a word of it.

“No wonder you’re fucking bitter.”

Immediately she looks at the floor and again her shoulders totally fall. I did that. Me. I hurt her for no other reason than I’m jealous there were others before me. Knowing I lost her, and knowing I lost her before ever really having her, weighs on me. So when she turns to leave, I don’t stop her.

The only reason I don’t is because she has nowhere else to go and I don’t even know what else to say.

With my head in my hands I try to make sense of what just happened. Really there is no need to: I happened. It’s probably five minutes later when I’m deep in thought that I hear Rogan’s truck pull up and a car door slam; then he walks in with Boner and I know I am about to get my ass reamed and that I deserve every second of it. Before either of us say anything I hear a door slam shut and his truck engine come to life. I jump up and run to the window to see what the fuck is going on.

“They’re going to my place.”

“The fuck!”

“She doesn’t want to be here. So grab her shit and give it to me so when Angel comes back, I don’t make her wait.”

“She ain’t staying with you.”

“Actually, she is.”

“Fuck you, turn those tables, partner.”

“Listen, partner, Macy ain’t one to cry foul. If she feels uncomfortable here, there’s a reason. That reason is you. Sit down, shut up, and listen.” Not wanting to throw down in my living room, I take a seat, but I let him know by the look on my face I ain’t happy about it. “Macy is like a sister to me now, and you know how much I like people. But I love her, she’s part of my family. So are you. You and I have history, I know your mouth. I also know every time you’re within earshot of her, you find a way to insult her. She’s been a good sport so far, but for her to call and ask for a pickup? You fucked up and now you’re stuck with me. Leave her be. If she wants to come back, it’s her choice. If she doesn’t? You can blame yourself. She’s got issues like the rest of us; if you ain’t able to calm down then its best you don’t see her.”

“Shit.”

“What’d you do? Don’t look at me like that. Angel wants to know, not me. I know you’re a dumb ass has a fucking temper, but I have to report back and, we have time.”

So I told him. I knew I royally screwed up when his face went red and he was clenching and releasing his fists. Even the damn dog was growling at me. Regardless of what he thinks, he can’t be more upset about this than I am. I have anger issues, I know I do. Always have, probably always will. I just want her so much I can’t rein it in when she’s around, and even I know throwing that shit at her ain’t fair.

I
t’s no secret I’ve been punched before. But even being decked by a full-size man didn’t compare to what it felt like when Jonas ripped me apart. Because that’s what he did. One minute I was lost in sensation and the next I was stunned into silence. I honestly hadn’t known the answer right away because none of those people mattered; at that moment, he did. Who asks someone they just started kissing how many partners they’ve had? I didn’t know what to do. Obviously this bothered him, so I sat down and gave it serious thought. The answer was nine. Daniel doesn’t count. Then for my honesty I get hit with the “someone like you” comment, again. The men moving on to greener fucking pastures would have been brilliant if it wasn’t aimed at me. Of course he had to get in a comment about Briggs, and that one hurt the most. That is, until he compared me to every other woman that’s been in his life.

He’s right about one thing though, I am bitter. Can’t fucking imagine why.

“You’re fucking joking. He actually said that?”

“He said all of it.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

“No you’re not. I can kill him, though, and I’m positive I’d get a light sentence considering the circumstances.”

“Even with Rafe-speak, I can’t make any sense of that.”

“I tried, V. Every comment was meaner than the first. We were kissing, it was amazing, then he broke it and wigged out on me asking about my partners. He asked me a question and I answered; then he insulted me over and over again after that. I mean, don’t ask a fucking question if you don’t want an answer! If I had four and he had nine, would it make a difference? It was just a kiss I feel like I’ve waited forever for and … you know what, fuck it. I’ve got a better idea, let’s dance party.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“I’ll pick the track, you move the coffee table, yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

Grabbing her phone and pushing a few buttons, she sets it on the table and drops a bomb. “Wait, okay, so in an effort to do the sharing thing, I wanted to tell you something now that Rogue’s not here to hear it.”

“Oh shit.” So that’s what she did; she turned the app off.

“Tony’s off the grid.”

“What does off the grid mean, exactly? You mean he’s leaving you alone?”

“Max told me when I went to do inventory, he says Tony had some business to take care of and that he’d be unavailable for the immediate future and I, specifically, was not to contact him.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t so much what he said but how he said it, yeah?”

“Tony’s in trouble, then.”

“You think so too? Shit.”

“The only way he’d skip out and handle anything was if he was in trouble and to keep the trouble from following him and leading it back to you and Max.”

“You know I love your fucking brains, right?”

“My fucking brains are probably my best feature, the one no one can see.”

“You’re supermodel material, Macy. Fuck Rafe if he doesn’t get it.”

“Ha, I want to fuck him, that’s the problem.”

“Did he think you were a virgin? Or is it because if you count on your hands you have more experience? It doesn’t add up, and in truth, it shouldn’t matter.”

“I don’t know what he thinks, V; that’s the problem. Women in his past aren’t a problem for me unless they’re crazy, and even then, I’d just zap her and be done with it. Do you think I’m bitter?”

“Yeah, but you have every right to be. Does he know the details about Briggs? I mean, all of them? Because I know you didn’t tell me everything. And Rafe sounds a bit bitter too, yeah?”

“Enough about me, back to Tony. Do you miss him?”

“Is it wrong of me to say I do? He’s my friend, Macy. I don’t have feelings for him like that, but I do care, and if he’s in trouble, I would have helped.”

“Does Rogan know this? Okay, that would be a no. Knowing Tony, if there’s trouble, he doesn’t want you involved in it. He’s a good guy at heart, and when he’s not trying to get between you and Rogan. If Tony wants you to leave him be, then you need to leave him be unless you have no other choice.”

“You know what?”

“Hmm?”

“We need a fucking dance party.”

“Word.”

This was what we needed. I don’t call it girl time because it isn’t. This is spending time with my sister, who, like me, has shit going on and doesn’t know what to do about it. My issue currently comes from wanting someone who I can’t get a solid read on, a crazy ex who probably totally wants a second chance at killing me, and at a dead end in my research which was a first I wasn’t prepared for. Venessa is in her first committed relationship and struggling with having any sort of feelings for Tony because, on some level, she thinks it’s a betrayal to Rogan. She’s so loyal to Rogan she doesn’t understand it’s okay to care for Tony as a friend. On top of that and nursing herself back to health, she’s as fucked up as I am. She doesn’t need to add my problems to the mix, so we do what we do best. We deflect. We deflect by dancing our asses off.