When You're Ready (23 page)

“Scout, that’s very generous, but—“

“No buts, Nola. I’m writing the check. There’s absolutely no reason you should have to struggle and work yourself crazy when I can afford to take care of you.”

“But you don’t have to take care of me, Scout. I’ve been doing just fine for the past few years on my own. I can handle it.”

“You can handle it?” he said, slightly raising his voice. “Baby you were rushed to the hospital after you tried to handle it. You see how well that worked out? You could have died!”

I flinched; I didn’t need another reminder that I’d messed up. But there it was again, in my face like a huge sign screaming, YOU TOOK DRUGS.

“Wow…” I turned on my heels and made a beeline to the kitchen. I snatched up my laptop and notebook, then shoved it into my backpack before trudging toward the stairs.

“Baby wait,” Scout said, following me. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant—”

“I know what you meant,” I said, cutting him off. “Look, I know I messed up. I don’t need you to throw it in my face, okay?” I stomped up the stairs, pissed at myself for making such a stupid mistake and angry at Scout for bringing it up and ruining our perfect day. “And I don’t need your money,” I called over my shoulder.

“Baby, I know. I’m just trying to—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just trying to help. I get it. But I don’t want to become a pet project for you. I don’t want you to start looking at me as some sort of burden, Scout. Seriously, I’ve made it this far, I’ll be fine.”

“Nola—” Scout grabbed my wrist and spun me around to face him. “First of all, you’re not a burden,
at all.
I know you’ve had a hard life, baby so have I, which is why I want to help.”

“I don’t
need
your help, Scout. I don’t need to be saved, you know. I’ve done a pretty good job of saving myself these past few years, and just because you have way more money than me doesn’t mean you
have
to help me out. Seriously, I’m not helpless, Scout.”

He rubbed his temples and sighed. “Baby I know you aren’t helpless. I know you can keep on working your ass off, going to school, and still be amazing and successful at it all. But let me ask you this, will you be happy?” He paused to let his question sink in, and I almost answered
no.
If I was honest, I hadn’t been happy for a very long time; instead, I’d just been
existing.

Before I met Scout I was merely biding my time until I finished school and was finally able to live my real life—you know, the one that didn’t include moving every time my mother left one of her no-count boyfriends, or eating cereal for dinner because I was too tired, or too broke, to cook. Scout came along and flipped my world upside down, but still…was that enough to give away my control?

“
If you can honestly say you’ll be happy burning the candle at both ends, then I won’t write the check,” he continued, dragging me out of my thoughts. “But I think you know that you need a little breathing room, baby, and that’s what I’m offering.” He moved down one step until we were eye-to-eye. “Nola, all I’m offering is a little peace, baby. You just have to be willing to take it.”

But was I? That was the question we both needed answered.

24
Nola

Scout’s office looked like the physical manifestation of him: sleek, organized, with just a hint of an edge. The walls were decorated with colorful artwork that mirrored the tattoos that crisscrossed his body. The space was minimalist and modern, dominated by a gigantic silver desk that held a trio of computer monitors. I set up my laptop facing the windows overlooking the backyard and got to work.

It felt weird being in Scout’s space after we’d had our first argument, but I was still smarting from our conversation. I knew he was only trying to help me out, but giving me twenty thousand dollars would up the stakes of our relationship. If I took the money, would he let me pay him back? Would he demand something of me? Would I just become one of the many possessions he owned? Most women would’ve probably jumped at the chance of getting twenty thousand dollars from their lover, but I wasn’t most women. Besides, I knew that nothing in life was truly free; I just wondered what I’d have to give up in return.

I tried to push the thoughts of Scout’s offer out of my head so I could work on my paper. If I could just pass Professor St. James’ class I wouldn’t need Scout’s money, I’d keep my partial scholarship, and nothing would have to change between us.

Armed with a new goal—save face, and possibly our relationship, by getting an A on my paper—I threw myself into writing. I’d done most of the research in the days leading up to my accident, so all I had to do was let my fingers translate the notes and ideas that floated through my brain.

Professor St. James would be wowed—no, no,
amazed
—at my knowledge of third wave feminism and its many scholars. After reading my paper she would have no choice but to give me an A and ask me to be her assistant in the fall. Okay, perhaps
that
was wishful thinking, but as banged out page after page, I knew she wouldn’t be able to dismiss me, or my paper, as silly and unserious this time.

After about an hour of feverish typing, Scout poked his head into the office. “Hey, pizza’s here. Ready to eat?”

“In a minute,” I mumbled, without even looking up. I was still a little angry with him, but I was more concerned about losing my momentum than tending to his feelings. We could sort everything out later anyhow.

He slipped out of the door and I continued working on my essay, reading back long sections, adding in quotes, and cleaning up errors. I was on a roll, energized by doing something I actually enjoyed instead of tending to demanding customers who wanted the world, but somehow forgot to leave a tip. I was so engrossed in my work that I didn’t notice another hour had ticked by until Scout returned bearing food.

“I brought you this,” he said, setting the plate next to me on the desk.

“Thanks,” I grumbled, still focused on my paper.

Instead of turning to leave, Scout pulled up a chair and sat across from me. I peeked at him quickly, but when he didn’t say anything I turned my attention back to my essay. I added another page, solidifying my argument and driving my point home again. A self-satisfied grin crossed my face. Professor St. James would love it; she had to.

“You’re not going to eat?” Scout asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. The silence between us must have made him uncomfortable, but I was in the zone.

“Mmm hmm,” I hummed, still typing. I was putting the finishing touches on my conclusion and didn’t want to stop until I was done. “I’ll eat in a sec.”

“Nola, you haven’t eaten all day, baby. I think you should—“

I gave Scout a look that said,
“Back off,”
and continued typing. He seemed determined to have a conversation, but I had to finish my paper first. Scout may have been used to getting his way with other women or in the business world, but I wasn’t about to let him wreck my concentration. I had already taken a risk and fallen in love; I didn’t have to let my grades go to shit because of it.

Scout shifted in his seat, and then scooted to my side of the desk. “Nola, you should probably take a break and eat, baby.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “I’ll eat in a minute. I’m almost done.”

“But baby—“

“Scout. Seriously. I’m almost finished, okay? I’ll eat in a bit.”

“Nola, I think—“

I banged my hand on the desk. “Scout! Let it go. I’m not going to starve to death. Damn!” I glanced up at him and he looked startled and hurt, and I immediately felt like a horrible person. We were days into our budding relationship, and I was already snapping at him. This had to be a bad sign. Maybe I
did
have way too much baggage to be in a relationship, or perhaps I’d made a
huge
mistake even risking it in the first place. I took a deep breath and tried to remind myself that Scout only wanted the best for me. I couldn’t jump down his throat for caring.

It had been so long since I had anyone dote on me I didn’t know how to react. I’d been left to deal with my own shit for so many years, I forgot what it felt like to be looked after. If Scout and I were going to make it, I had to remember his feelings mattered as well; it wasn’t just about what I wanted anymore.

“Sorry.” I met his eyes and tried to smile. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m just
really
close to being done with this paper and I’d like to finish it up while the ideas are flowing. As soon as I’m done I’ll eat, I promise.”

He eyed me for a second, considering my words. “I understand. I get like that when I’m coding. Just don’t be too long, okay?” Scout stood and kissed me on my forehead, then turned to leave. “I’ll be downstairs.”

He closed the door and I was thankful to once again turn my attention to my essay. I still wasn’t sure whether or not I would take Scout’s money, if being with him would end in heartbreak, or if I’d made a
huge
mistake by falling in love. But as I sat there trying to finish up my paper I decided to focus on the things I could control, because my heart? It clearly had a mind of its own.

25
Scout

“Trouble in paradise?” Jason asked when I walked into his garage and grabbed a beer out of his fridge without saying hello. I plopped down on the same beat up, plaid sofa that used to be in his parents house before they let him have it for his first apartment. Now, the rundown couch was the centerpiece of Jason’s man cave.

The whole space was decidedly masculine. Jason’s tricked out Harley Street Bob was parked in the corner of the garage next to an impressive collection of free weights, a punching bag, a pool table, and a big screen TV. When we weren’t working, Jason, Fernando, and I spent an obscene amount of time in here talking trash and keeping each other sane. Our friendship began way back in elementary school and the three of us had been inseparable ever since.

Fernando chuckled as I took a long sip from my brew, and I knew Jason had called him as soon as I texted Jay to say I was riding over to his house.

“You two gossip too fucking much,” I said, eyeing them both. “You think this is high school or something? I’m going to start calling you the Gossip Girls.”

“Whatever,” Jason said, popping open a beer. “Don’t try to change the subject, man. What’s up?”

“Who said anything was up? I just felt like jumping on my hog, that’s all.”

Jason and Fernando exchanged glances and smirked.

“I came to check on
you
knuckleheads,” I said, draining my beer. “Besides, I haven’t been on my bike in a while. I like to feel the wind in my hair too, dammit.” I chuckled at the absurdity of my words. I knew I couldn’t hide anything from my boys, they knew me better than anyone else in the world, but my argument with Nola had fucked up my head.

I thought she’d be happy I offered to pay her tuition, but instead Nola seemed offended. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t quite figure her out. I went in thinking Nola was this naïve, innocent girl, but it turns out she’s been through just as many hardships as me and is equally good at hiding her scars.

On one hand Nola is giving and generous and would bend over backward to help someone out. But on the other, she’s uncomfortable asking for help and letting others see her vulnerabilities. I understood why Nola put up such a huge wall to keep others out, but I wished she knew she didn’t have to protect herself from me.

“C’mon man,” Fernando said, pulling me back to the present. “What happened with your girl?”

I grabbed another beer and leaned against the fridge. “Honestly? I’m not even sure.” I popped the top and took a swig from the cold bottle, remembering how Nola tasted when she came. As I suspected, she smelled like oranges, and when she exploded in my mouth Nola tasted savory and sweet all at once. The memory made my dick jump just thinking about it.

I cleared my throat and tried to tamp down my desire before my friends noticed the bulge growing in my pants. “We had a great day. Like…
amazing.
”

“So you fucked?” Jason asked.

“Don’t make me kick your ass,” I said, annoyed he reduced what we did to just fucking.

“Oh shit…you did!” Jason chuckled. “So what’s the problem? The sex was wack?”

“Seriously, Jason, I will kick your ass if you don’t shut up right now.”

He raised his hands in surrender, but he was still laughing. “My bad. So you
made love
?”

I nodded, but before I could say anything else Fernando chimed in. “And it was good?”

An image of Nola’s beautiful body flashed before my eyes and I smiled. “Better than good, man.”

Jason and Fernando traded looks of confusion. “So what’s the problem?” they asked in unison.

I sighed. “She’s pissed at me.”

“Dude! You came before she did?” Jason asked, smirking.

“I swear to God, I’m about to kill you, Jay,” I warned him, “shut the hell up.”