The Redemption (28 page)

“Everything.”

My breath catches as we stare into each other’s eyes. He’s serious. He’s impossible. He makes me want to give him more than I should. “You want too much from me.” Looking down, I shake my head, needing to stand my ground. “I can’t give you everything. I don’t know how to be enough for you.”

“You’re enough. I found that out the hard way.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Actually, I found out the hard way. You knew what you were doing when you brought her back here. I’m the one who was blindsided.”

“I’m a cliché, Rochelle. I never claimed otherwise.”

“You fall back on the perceptions, then complain that no one sees the real person behind the façade. You can’t have it both ways.” I walk to a nearby chaise and sit, needing the support under such a heavy conversation.

“See?” he says, smiling. “You know me better than anyone. After the letters, you also know more than I’ve ever shared with another person.” He comes and sits next to me. “But what you fail to realize is you’re the only person that I want to see the real me. And for you, I’d do anything. So when you told me I wasn’t good enough, you’re right, I wasn’t… and I wanted to prove that by fucking Firenza.”

“And?” I glance down, then back up.

“And I discovered that you were in here.” He says, touching his chest briefly. “You weren’t a fantasy anymore. You had managed to take the one real thing I had left—”

“So you couldn’t fuck her because you might lo—”

“Yep, I like you, more than you’re ready to hear right now. So we’re gonna take this round slower again.”

Surprised by his arrogant assumption, I sit upright. “Who says there’s going to be another round?”

His fingers take hold of my chin, keeping my face focused on his. “I do.”

Backing away, I snap, “That’s either extremely romantic like in the movies or totally creepy. I haven’t decided yet. Anyway…” I shrug, trying to regain control of the situation. “…You leave in two days.”

“We can get into a lot of trouble in two days.” Now he shrugs, instigating me by acting like it’s not big deal. “You know, if you’re up for some fun and stuff. I don’t know. Maybe you can’t handle fun anymore.”

With a challenging eyebrow raised, I say, “I’m not falling for your ploy, Mr. Caggiano. I’m not dumb and I thought we were going to slow this round way down?”

“Friends who get into trouble together don’t go slow. They set their own pace. Speaking of trouble, Spears was all over the news.”

“I wasn’t going to bring him up, but yeah, I heard about the broken leg.”

“Karma’s a bitch.”

“I might have had the same thought.” He stands before me and offers me two hands. When I take them, I whisper, “What are we doing, Dex?”

He gently nudges me and smiles. “Hanging out, pretending we can go slow when all I want to do is go fast with you.”

Falling for his boyish charms, I nod. “Me too, but let’s settle on medium for now.”

“Medium it is.”

The alarm on my phone chimes, the magic that was returning gone in a flash as reality sets back in. With a heavy sigh, I say, “I need to go. I have a couple of calls and a lot of work to do this afternoon.”

His shoulders drop just a little, but I notice, the disappointment apparent though his voice hides it. “I have some errands to do.” He starts walking and I go inside with him.

I shut the back door and say, “I wish I could stay. I like when we’re this way.”

The right side of his mouth lifts, a slight crinkling on the outside of his eyes reveal his inner emotion. “I like when we’re this way too.” Taking my hand in his, he brings it up and kisses the underside of my wrist. His lips smooth and purposeful as his eyes lock onto mine.

The boys come running through the kitchen, circling us, then back out, but he still has my wrist to his mouth, savoring it. My heart is too weak to be broken again so soon, so I ask, “How many times do we do this before we accept the truth?”

He lowers my hand, but holds onto it. “As many as it takes.”

That’s when I know we aren’t over. But for the safety of my heart, the business, and until I figure out this game of life I’m playing, we need slow bordering on medium.

Walking into the living room, he says, “Guess you need to get going. I’ll help wrangle the boys.”

I stand there a moment longer watching him walk away and smile at him. His heart connected to mine once again. “Thanks.”

Later in the night, just as I climb into bed, my phone rings. My smile is probably heard over the phone and I’m too tired to hide it. “Hello.”

“Good evening, Rochelle,” Dex says, his own voice smooth and seductive with a light playful undertone.

If I wasn’t smiling already… “How are you?”

“Really good. And you?”

The casual chitchat makes me happy. “Oh, you know, busy but good.”

“You’re busy right now?”

“No,” I reply, “I just got into bed after a busy day.”

His voice gets deeper and I hear him settling down. “I like the thought of you doing that.”

“The having a busy day part or climbing into bed?” I tease.

He chuckles. “Am I going to see you tomorrow?”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Take a ride with me. Up the coast.”

My lips part and a silent gasp chokes my immediate response. “Dex…”

“As friends,” he adds.

I’m pathetic and give in way too easily, wanting to see him more than I’ve convinced myself otherwise. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow evening.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight, Rochelle.”

“Goodnight, Dex. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams.”

The pause makes us both laugh. Knowing we have plans makes it easier to hang up though. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say.

“Tomorrow.”

It feels a lot like I’m getting dressed for a date. Beth has preached to me several times this afternoon that, in fact, two friends can hang out together without it getting too deep… or sexual. I’m not fully convinced, but I’m willing to try again. Because he’s easy on the eyes. Oh wait, damn it. Okay, I’m not convinced at all that two people who have great sexual chemistry can remain only friends.

I kiss the kids goodnight and say goodbye to Beth just as Dex calls me to meet him outside. After closing the front door behind me, my mouth drops open when I see him. “Oh good lord!” Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. This is gonna be impossible with him looking so damn sexy in his leather jacket and old jeans, tight T-shirt, and motorcycle. What? Rushing forward, I stumble over my words, “What? How? Where’d you get her?”

With two motorcycle helmets in his hands, Dex straddles the bike with a big ole smirk on his face. “Wanna go for a ride, sweetheart?”

“Hell yes, I do.” I go through the gate, making sure to set the alarm before shutting the door. I take a helmet and put it on. After securing my license and credit card in my pocket, I zip up my jacket. “I’m ready.”

I start to swing my leg over the back, but he stops me. “You’re driving.”

Lowering my leg back down, I look at him incredulously. “Really?” I ask, hopeful.

“Really. You were once a badass on a bike. Show me that girl again.”

“I like your version of trouble.”

“Good because I have more where that came from.”

“I’m counting on it.” I get on and he settles in the seat behind me, then wraps his arms around my middle just as I rev the bike. When we take off, I realize I’d forgotten how exhilarating riding a motorcycle can be. Also, how scary. I’m rusty as I try to balance better.

Gaining speed, a feeling of freedom takes over. It’s a similar high I imagine runner’s get when they hit their stride—a feeling of invincibility, power, and liberation from your worries. On a bike, I only have to think about my surroundings, to be conscious of others, and let my worries drift into the wind behind me.

About an hour later, Dex has me stop at a public beach past Malibu, but just shy of Santa Barbara. “The sun is setting. Let’s take a walk on the beach.” We hang our helmets and kick off our shoes, before I bend over and roll up the bottom of my jeans. The sand is big, gritty, and warm from the hot day today. Walking toward the ocean, Dex stays quiet beside me, seeming to have his mind on things other than the sunset.

“Wanna talk about it?” I ask while pulling my hair back into an elastic band.

“The bike is a gift.”

Shocked by his doozie of a statement, I stop walking and turn to him. “For what?”

“I thought you should have it.”

Glancing back to it, I feel the debate beginning. “You can’t give me a motorcycle, Dex.”

“I just did.”

“Take it back,” I demand, putting my hands on my hips.

“No. Why should I?”

“Because it’s too much. We’re friends. Friends don’t give each other gifts like that.”

“What do friends give each other then?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Like sweaters and stuff. Maybe a trinket box or flowers, but a motorcycle is too expensive.”

“I don’t even know what a trinket box is.” He points back to the bike, and says, “And that bike was not expensive.”

“It’s like my old one?”

“Yeah. An ’87 Honda.”

“Okay, it’s not expensive but it’s still too much.”

“The thought is too much?” He laughs and takes my hand in his. “Let’s walk.” And we do. The sun is dipping into the ocean, reflecting like magic dust on the surface. He adds, “I bought the bike because of what it represents.”

“I’m lost, Dex. Tell me what it represents.”

“You know what you once told me about riding motorcycles?”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t remember. It’s been too long since I had one to remember my philosophies on the subject.”

“I remember. You said, there’s always a chance of death when you ride a bike, so it makes you appreciate the life you have.”

Standing just before the water can touch our feet, I say, “That’s deep,” which makes him chuckle.

“Yeah, it was pretty profound at nineteen. It means more today.”

I start to laugh, but I don’t continue when I realize he’s being serious. Instead, I turn my head to face into the wind and close my eyes. When I reopen them the sun is almost gone. “I got rid of my bike when I got pregnant with Neil.”

He nods. “Makes sense.”

The horizon is the only bright spot left. “How’d you remember what I said after all these years?”

He comes to stand between me and the view. “Because it changed my life… you changed my life, Rochelle.”

“See,” I say, backing away. “You do that. You say these things to me and make me feel special when I haven’t earned it. I’m not special.”

“You’re special to me.”

“No!” I turn on my heel and stomp my way through the sand, kicking it up in the process.

“You can’t just yell no and walk away, Rochelle. It’s not that simple.
We’re
not that simple.”

He’s right. We’re not. Coming to a halt, I stop with my back to him and drop my head down, feeling the emotions beginning to wash through me. Smothering my weaknesses, I spin around and point my finger at him. “You can’t do this to me anymore. We’re not together. Dex.”