When You're Ready (9 page)

I’d done it before but it had nearly killed me. When I first moved to L.A. I worked a full-time waitressing gig while attending classes my freshman year. I worked the graveyard shift at a diner not too far from my apartment, then hustled to class after I got off in the morning. Most days I didn’t get to sleep until five or six in the evening, and was back up at 11 p.m. to make it to work by midnight. It was a hellish schedule, but I kept it because I needed the money. I was hospitalized for exhaustion two or three times, but somehow I managed to finish my first year at UCLA with my GPA intact. This time I wasn’t so sure I could pull it off.

I spotted Scout by the statue and tried to put on a brave face. I didn’t want to burden him with my problems, especially since he was sweet enough to give me a ride to work. I took several deep breaths, trying to push Professor St. James’ evil ass out of my mind and strolled toward Scout.

He looked
amazing
. He was standing near the mouth of the bear scrolling through his phone dressed in dark jeans, crisp white sneakers, and a pale body-skimming shirt that showed off his strong arms. A few girls circled around him trying their best to get his attention, but he seemed too involved in his phone to notice.

I walked up behind him, stood on my tippy-toes and put my hands over his eyes.

“Guess who?”

Scout slid my palms to his mouth and kissed them before turning around and wrapping me in a huge hug. I felt so comfortable and safe in his arms; I didn’t want him to let me go.

“Hey Nola,” he said, smiling so wide I thought I was going to go blind.

“Hey, yourself. Please tell me you haven’t been out here since five; it’s like a million degrees today.”

“Nope…”

“Oh thank God,” I breathed.

“I’ve been here since four forty-five.” My eyes grew in size, but he just shrugged like he hadn’t been waiting in the hot sun for more than a half hour. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, hopefully traffic isn’t bad. My boss will kill me if I’m late.”

“Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” Scout slipped his hand in mine and tugged me toward the garage.

When we reached his car he once again unlocked my door and made sure I got in before closing it, then jogged around to his side. Scout cranked up the car and threw it in gear, navigating his way out of the parking structure.

“So, how did things go with your professor?”

I threw my head back and looked at the roof of the car. I was trying to forget about Professor St. James and the fact that my college career would probably come crashing down. But Scout’s question reopened the wound, causing the tears I’d been swallowing to creep up my throat and flood my eyes. I turned toward the window and frantically jammed at my wet face with the heel of my palm hoping he wouldn’t notice I was losing my shit. But of course, he did.

Just like that I was crying in front of Scout
, again.
I didn’t see how the day could get any worse. I wished I could run home, pull the covers over my head, and start all over again, but unfortunately, do-overs weren’t actually real.

9
Scout

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?”

I glanced over at Nola, who stared out the window wiping tears from her eyes. She tried to hide her face, but she couldn’t conceal the fact that she was crying.

“Nola, what happened?” I asked, panicked. I hated to see her so upset. She swiped at her face, trying to keep the water from spreading, but it was no use. Tears slid down her cheeks and pooled on her neck.

I pulled the car over and drew Nola into my chest.

“You have to keep driving,” she said through her tears, “or I’ll be late and then…” She broke out in a new round of sobs, and I didn’t know what the fuck to do. “Scout, please, just drive,” she said, her voice halted and strained.

I got back on the road, but continued watching Nola from the corner of my eye. The meeting with her professor clearly had not gone well, but it tore at my heart to see her so distraught over it.

“Baby?” I asked, taking one hand off the steering wheel and wiping her face.

“She’s impossible,” Nola choked out. “I waited for 15 minutes while she talked about chardonnay and merlot and going to Napa Valley.”

“Huh? What?”

Nola finally looked at me, her eyes and cheeks were both bright red.

“Wine tasting. While I waited to talk to her about my paper, she was on the phone talking to a friend about wine tasting. FOR FIFTEEN MINUTES,” she snapped. “Then she threw my paper in the trash and called me names. She
hates
me, Scout. HATES ME!”

I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. I’d never hit a woman before, but I considered making an exception for Nola’s professor. It was one thing to be critical of her work, but quite another to treat her like shit. As long as I was around, nobody was going to do Nola wrong; I didn’t care who they were.

“Shhh, baby, it’s okay,” I said, pushing wet curls out of her face.

“It’s not okay, Scout! She said if I wanted to pass I needed to write a 20-page paper and hand it in by our next class. That’s in less than a week!”

Damn
. This woman was clearly unreasonable. “You’re brilliant, Nola, I know you can do it.”

She turned to glare at me. “You’re kidding, right? I have to work every night between now and then, plus I have my other classes to deal with. I’m going to fail, Scout.”

“Baby, you’re not gonna fail. I won’t let that happen, okay?”

Nola put her head in her lap and started crying again. I felt like someone had sucker punched me in the chest and I couldn’t fight back. She needed to pass this class in order to keep her scholarship, but I wanted to give her the money instead, removing the unnecessary stress her professor had caused.

Seeing Nola in anguish over her stupid professor pissed me off. Not because school wasn’t important, but because I’d been around assholes like that my entire life. That woman knew what she was doing to Nola was wrong and she didn’t care; that bothered me.

“There’s nothing you can do, Scout,” she said, then wiped her eyes, rolled down the window and let the wind dry her face. Nola didn’t know how wrong she was. I could do a lot. I just wasn’t sure she would let me.

“Why don’t you take the weekend off and work on your paper? I haven’t been in school in a while, so I can’t help you write, but I can bring you coffee and energy drinks and food.”

She gave me a weak smile and my chest tightened. “That’s really sweet, Scout. God, you must think I’m pathetic.”

“Not at all, why would you say that?”

“Because I’ve cried both times I’ve seen you,” she chuckled. “I’m just…going through some things, I guess. Sorry to be such a downer.”

“I don’t mind. I’m happy I can be here for you.”

“I owe you big,” she said. “I mean, you just sat through my ugly cry and you didn’t even laugh at me.”

Nothing about Nola was ugly, not her creamy skin, her giant mop of hair, or her curvy body that made me hard just thinking about how it would feel beneath me. I would’ve gladly sat through all of her tears if I meant I could be around her a little bit longer, but I didn’t like seeing her so stressed out either.

“Never. I’ll never laugh at you, Nola, okay?”

She nodded and leaned her head against the window, closing her eyes.

We drove the rest of the way in silence. I hoped she was getting some much-needed rest and putting her professor’s bullshit behind her, but I knew better. At first glance, Nola seemed naive and reserved, but I could tell there was more to her than that. Like me, she probably kept all of her problems bottled up and out of sight, but that didn’t mean they weren’t eating her alive.

I knew it was selfish, but I wanted Nola to need me. I wanted her to let me into the darkest parts of her heart where all of the hurt and bad memories resided. Maybe then she could help me let go of my own baggage and I could finally sleep through the night without waking up in a cold sweat, scared I was back in my parents’ drug-infested house in Pacoima.

Only my friends knew how I’d really grown up. The media glossed over my story, choosing to focus on how I taught myself to code and create apps on a second-hand laptop, but my boys knew the true story of Scout Claybourne. We grew up together, and while their parents weren’t druggies like mine, they weren’t that much better off either.

We all struggled back then. I was one of the few White kids in the area, and my neighbors looked out for me. Being different meant I had to learn how to fight, and thankfully my best friends Jason and Fernando always had my back. Back then, we’d all watch wrestling and then hit the makeshift weight room in Jason’s garage.  Soon, we were all strong and crazy enough to take on all comers, especially those who wanted to see if the White boy could fight. I knew I had to prove myself so I spent most of my early teens getting into brawls until my reputation preceded me and people started to leave me the hell alone.

Growing up, I was wild and out of control, pissed off at the world and very, very reckless. It’s a wonder I never got locked up or killed, although a few times I came close.

As we drove toward Nola’s job, I wondered what she would think of my life. Sure, I had a lot of money now, but money couldn’t buy the really important things like the love and affection of The One. I’d only spent a few hours with Nola, but my gut had already told me she might be it, and my instincts rarely led me wrong.

By the time I pulled up to her job Nola was asleep. I didn’t want to wake her, but she only had a few minutes to get inside before it was time for her shift to begin. I ran my hand over her hair and my breath hitched in my chest. Her hair was soft and smelled like a grove of orange trees. I wanted to tangle my hands in her curls and kiss her all over from her forehead to her neck and finally her lips. But instead, I inhaled her scent and gently woke her up.

“Nola, baby, we’re here.”

She startled and blinked to adjust her eyes to the sunlight. “Oh wow… I fell asleep?” Nola stretched her arms over her head and I watched her breasts push against her t-shirt. Her nipples were slightly erect and I had to bite my tongue to resist touching them. “My head was pounding, so I closed my eyes. I didn’t think I’d fall asleep.” Nola ran her hands through her hair, smoothing it into a tight bun that exposed her neck even more and made her look so damn sexy. I wanted to nibble the delicate flesh and run my tongue along her collarbone, kissing my way back down to her nipples.

“Wow. I’m such a drag, right?” she said, snapping me out of my fantasy. “First I cried like a crazy person then I fell asleep. Worst date ever,” she shook her head. “I mean, this isn’t a date, but if it was, it would have been terrible. But it’s not a date, so—“

I put a finger to her lips, shushing her. I noticed she had a habit of rambling whenever she got nervous. It was cute, but I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.

“Nola, it’s cool. Apparently, you needed to rest. You don’t have to apologize, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, drawing her top lip between her teeth in a way that made me want to taste her mouth even more. “Thanks for the ride, Scout. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.” I couldn’t help but smile. I’d never smiled so much in my life before meeting Nola, now I walked around with a damn grin on my face all the time. She kissed me on my cheek and I had to refrain from grabbing her head and consuming her mouth. My dick pushed against my zipper at the mere thought of plunging inside her. I bet Nola even tasted like oranges.

She opened the door, and I grabbed her hand, suddenly feeling possessive. “What time do you get off?”

“Midnight. Why?”

Midnight.
I mentally ran through my schedule for the evening. I had a dinner meeting to attend in Malibu, but it would be done by 11 p.m., which would give me enough time to pick Nola up.

“How are you getting home?”

“Scout—“ she said, shaking her head.

“Hey, just asking,” I shrugged like it was just an innocent question.

“Oh…okay. Normally I’d ride with Tara, but since I’m taking her shift I’ll have to figure something out.”

“Okay,” I said, knowing full well I was going to be waiting outside her job at midnight. “Have a great night at work, Nola.”

She came around to my side of the car and hugged me through the window, pressing her cheek to my chest. My hands went into her mane and I fingered her soft spirals before placing a kiss in her hair. 

“Thanks, Scout,” she said before turning to leave.

When Nola walked upstairs, I felt like something precious had been suddenly ripped away from me. At that moment I knew I didn’t want to let her go again.

10
Nola

As soon as I clocked in and stepped on the floor, I was slammed. Pink Taco was always crowded with corporate types during happy hour, but there was some big game on TV and we were overrun with loud, drunken sports fans demanding an endless stream of ice-cold beer, nachos, and way too much attention. I hated working game days because people—scratch that,
guys
—ordered a ton of food, hogged the tables, got wasted, and then left horrible tips. Maybe all the brews they drank short-circuited their brains, but it usually sucked. After three hours of running around like a chicken with my head cut off, I was ready to go home. Unfortunately, I was only halfway through my shift.