How It Rolls (16 page)

             
“I’m sorry.” He said and I turned my head to look at him.

             
“For what?” His eyes hid in the crook of his arm like he was hiding from me.             

             
“I don’t know.  But obviously I said something that made you shut down.”

             
“I was just thinking.  I’m not shut down.”

             
He shifted to his side, now facing me. “Well, what are you thinking about then?”

             
“It’s just the first time we’ve even tip-toed around talking about sex.  I mean, I’m in your bed but we’ve never had that talk, you know?”

             
“Yeah, I know.”

             
“So, have you ever? What am I thinking? Of course you have.” 
Well,didn’t that just sound stupid.

             
“Um—no, I haven’t.  I didn’t date a lot in high school and I had one steady girlfriend but she was always out partying with her friends.  I found out later that she did a lot of things, and guys, when she was partying.”

             
“So you broke up with her because she cheated?”

             
“No, actually I didn’t find that out until way later.  She broke up with me because she said I was too serious.  She said she wanted to enjoy herself while she was young and I was holding her back.”

             
“Did you love her?”

             
“No, I didn’t. It bothered me, what she said, but not because I loved her.  It was mostly because I knew she was right.”

             
“But some people need someone serious to lean on.  Some people need that security.”

             
“What about you?”

             
“No, not me.  I’ve dated some but moving from house to house you don’t really get a chance to get into a relationship.”

             
“But now…” 

             
“But now I’m not moving and I have you.”

             
“Wrapped around your finger.” He said and he was slowly dozing off. 

             
“Leave it to you to quote an eighties song.”

             
His lips pulled up into a smile while his eyes were now closed. “It’s still true.”

             
“We avoided the subject,” I laughed as I rubbed my hand over his short little Mohawk. 

             
“No we didn’t.  Neither one of us has had sex, you’re my girlfriend and the only derby girl who has a chance of getting into my pants. End of story.”

             
I laughed and rolled on my side facing away from him to get comfortable.  He curled up behind me and kissed my neck where it curved into my shoulder. 

             
His mouth moved towards my ear and the last thing I heard before we went to sleep was, “And one more thing, I love you.”

              The next day I went to work and he went to school, then the restaurant to dole out paychecks and all that.  I got off at four and changed and met him there.  I splurged and spent some of my paycheck on a new pair of jeans and a cute long sleeved shirt.  I snuck into his office and he was totally engrossed in the file cabinet.  So I went around to the side where he sat and propped myself on top of the desk, hoping to scare him when he turned around. 

             
He fumbled and flipped through files and then turned around.  His mouth turned up into a grin when he saw me.  He stalked the distance between us and slammed the files on the desk beside me.  He came to stand in between my legs and his hands moved slowly starting at my knees and moving their way to my hips.  He stopped abruptly and rounded the side of the desk, shut the door and locked it. 

             
He came back and resumed his stance.

             
“What are you doing?  Your mom’s out there.”

             
“No she’s not.  She’s off today.  And so is my brother.”

             
“Oh.” That was my whole argument and I’d just lost it.  And I couldn’t give a rat’s ass. His shirt was untucked and I knew that he would wait for me to make the move, so I did.  I put my hands under his shirt and let my hands run the ridges of his stomach.  He latched his hands behind my knees and shuddered beneath my fingers. 

             
“Kiss me, Falcon.”

             
He closed in on me in seconds, my legs wrapped around his as he stood hovering above me, his mouth connected to mine.  He grew bolder with each stroke of his tongue and so did his hands.  They crept from my hips around to my butt and a groan escaped him.

             
I pulled away, shocked by his new sound.

             
“What in the world?” But he kept his hands right where they were.

             
He cleared his throat and kissed my throat while he explained, “The first time I saw you, you were in the inventory room and you had long torn up jeans on and…”

             
He looked down, embarrassed.

             
“Look at me Falcon.”  He looked at me and the sexiest blush had taken shape on his cheeks. 

             
“I’ve wanted to get my hands on you ever since. That sound was pure gratification.”

             
A knock at the door brought a very girly squeal out of me and I leapt off of the desk and around to the chair in front of it.  Falcon checked to make sure I was put together and then opened it.  It was Maddox.

             
“Dude, making out in the restaurant?  I’m gonna have to try that one.” He put out his fist for a bump, but Falcon slapped it away.

             
“Shut up Mad, you were supposed to be off today.  What are you doing?”

             
“Nothing, just party crashing.” He laughed and then left, the little bastard.

             
“Ugh, is your truck full of gas?”

             
“Yeah, why?” He straightened his desk and grabbed his jacket.

             
“Because I’m taking you somewhere.”  I reached in his pocket, my bravery sky high since our recent encounter and grabbed his keys. 

             
“You’re lucky you only found keys.” He laughed and followed me.  We got into his truck, I drove this time.  The drive where I was going wasn’t very long but it was through some dirt roads and swamp surrounded terrain.  A sign on my right that read ‘Welcome to Killona’ let me know that I was home and the tears formed of their own will.  Even my tears knew where I was and what I was about to show him.  Something I’d never shown anyone else in the world.

             
I took a right on Sauterelle Road and he looked at me. 

             
“Cricket?” I knew what he meant.  Sauterelle was a Cajun French word that meant grasshopper.

             
“Grasshopper, but that’s close enough.”

             
I turned again on a sliver of a driveway and we bumped and bustled over the mud holes that years of neglect and disrepair had left.  I pulled up to a small cedar cottage, and behind it were an enormous greenhouse and several dilapidated gardens.   I couldn’t bear to speak the words so I just pointed to the words on the small white mailbox outside the front door of the house.  It read ‘Wolfe Nursery.’  He reached for my hand and pulled me to him.  I stared at the mailbox itself for what seemed like hours before moving along with him.  I pointed out a tree where my dad had carved their initials in the bark.  I showed him the back stairs where I would often be confined to when I had misbehaved.  I dragged him through the greenhouse and could name the orchids that my mother used to treat like fragile, precious infants in need of constant care.  I walked him back all the way to the creek that divided my family’s work and home life.  The dock was still there, with our little pirogue still intact.  I watched the water, there with him, not ready to look up to the opposite shoreline just yet.  I finally made myself look upwards, face to face with the blackened framework of what used to be our home.  He followed my gaze but didn’t say a word.  He cradled me into his chest, both of us still facing the site of my tragedy. 

             
“Can you give me a minute?” I asked and he nodded, kissed my forehead and started a trail towards the truck. 

             
I thought I would take the opportunity to cry, but I didn’t.  I could hardly remember what my parents looked like anymore.  I remembered things they said and certain smells triggered memories, but their faces were a blur.  And I had no pictures to refresh my eleven year old, frozen in time, memory.  I turned and traced Falcon’s path back to the truck and he sat on the tailgate huffing warm breaths into his hands. 

             
I sat next to him and bumped his shoulder with mine, trying to lighten things up a bit.  He reached over for my hands and brought them up to his mouth, cupped in his own and his hot breath wove through them.  He only meant to warm my hands but so much more came to life with each breath.  He kissed each pad of each of my fingers, my palms—inside of my wrists. 

             
“Did you mean what you said the other night?” I wanted to slap my mouth for speaking without my permission.  But then I thanked her, because I was dying to know.

Chapter 23

Falcon

Owen said I needed to bulk up.  He sounded like one of those bodybuilder guys who wear Speedos and drink too much
pec nectar.  One day he’s gonna lift too much weight and one of his barbells is gonna fly out of his nip and hit him in the eye. I’d pay good money to see that. 

             
I took a deep breath and examined the crescent moons in her fingernails.  “What?  The lyrics from The Police? I totally meant that.”  She laughed and leaned her head against my shoulder. 

             
“You know what I mean.”

             
“I meant it with everything that I am.”  It wasn’t the epitome of romantic sentences but it was the truth.

             
Again, she didn’t say it back and I had to admit that despite my previous feelings about the subject, this time stung a little bit.  We sat there for a while until her stomach rumbled.

             
“Let’s get you something to eat.”  I told her and hopped off the back of the truck.  I turned around, grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her to the ground beside me.  She tipped my chin up with her hand and it made me look at her. 

             
“It’s not as easy for me, okay?  Give me a little time.  Just because I can’t say it, doesn’t mean…”

             
“It doesn’t matter.  I mean, it matters.  But I’m happy just being in love with you.” 

             
“How do you do that,” she asked me.

             
“Do what?” We talked as we both got into the truck.

             
“Just say what you’re feeling—no reservation—no hesitation.”

             
“Trust me, it’s a recent thing.  It’s almost effortless with you.” 

             
She looked at the house in the side mirror as we rumbled down the driveway.  Her hand wrestled with the excess fabric of her jeans and I knew she combated her tears the best she could.  I reached out my hand; the desire to help her with her pain overwhelmed me. 

             
She took it, to my relief, and kneaded her fingers with mine.  There was considerable traffic and by the time we got close to the restaurant, it was closed.  We went back to the diner and she had reverted back to the dreary, almost mousy tone of voice again.  The fragile bird who sat across from me juxtaposed the woman that I loved.   But I recognized that the girl was a part of the woman who would always lurk within her.

             
I took her home and she plowed through the apartment, straight to the shower, and stayed there until she probably ran out of hot water.  I stood at the window, trying to pretend that I wasn’t waiting for her. 

             
She came out and walked towards me.  She laid her wet haired head against my back and exhaled.

             
“I don’t think I left you any hot water.” I chuckled, “It’s fine.  I’ll be back.” 

             
I showered and by the time I got out she was already in bed and had fallen asleep.  I lay next to her and as I watched her sleep I almost regretted buying her the house.  She would have to leave and this apartment would seem like a cell again. 

             
Saturday morning she was back to my full of moxie girl.  She got dressed for work and packed up her derby bag.