Chapter Thirteen
Fuck me, it’s so easy to piss this woman off, and yet somehow I don’t hate it. I’m actually enjoying the fucking traps I fall into, because she’s fucking hot when she’s pissed. That fire lights her up from within, and I can practically feel the heat.
“Wind it in, woman. You’re not going anywhere this late at night.”
She froze, spinning on her heel to, yep, glare at me. Fuck yeah.
“You’re not the-”
“-boss of you, yeah yeah, yada yada. Sit your pert butt down with Nixie, and I’ll go get us a beer or something.”
The glare intensified, but she fucking sat down as demanded.
“You don’t even have a bathroom, Rocket,” she said quietly, glancing around the shitty room.
Yeah, it was an embarrassment really. The old clubhouse had little suites with tiny bathrooms, so at least it was like a home.
Some even had proper kitchens in them. I didn’t use one of those, but we had Tommy.
That kid was an incredible cook, and I really missed his dinners.
“There’s one down the hall, babe. It’s shared, but it’s there. I’ll show you.”
I glanced around then, noticing that she’d refreshed all Nixie’s little pee pad things. She really was a fucking hell of a woman.
“Thanks for all this,” I gestured to the floor and she shrugged.
“Smelled like piss in here.”
I couldn’t help grinning, because she never fucking held back, and I was starting to love that about her.
“Whoa, I couldn’t help it. I got caught short.”
She looked horrified for a split second before she realised I was joking.
Thank fuck. Suddenly I was really scared she’d think I’m the kind of guy to piss on my own floor.
It mattered to me what she thought of me.
She could be the friend I’ve been waiting for.
Or maybe she could be more. I just had to convince her, I guess.
Take a chance on this loser, and what? I had nothing to offer.
Well, except maybe to be fucking trustworthy if nothing else.
“You hungry? I could go out and get us something. We don’t have a kitchen. Oh wait. I could send a prospect. That’s what they’re for.”
V shook her head. “Poor guys, not that the one on the gate seemed all that smart. He looked at my car like it was a fucking spaceship.”
I dug in my pocket for my phone, and pulled up the prospect channel. It was a group chat everyone was in, so we could post requests, aka demands, in there.
“You came to our little MC in a fucking cage, woman. No wonder he was shocked.”
I ignored her grumbles as I started typing a message.
“What do you fancy? Indian? A nice curry?”
V chewed her lip, glancing at her watch. She wore a fucking watch, instead of relying on her phone like most of us do.
“It’s after ten, Rocket. Nothing will still be serving food.”
Fuck.
“We have a microwave. We could get some from the supermarket. Any allergies or dislikes?”
She shrugged, so I demanded a couple of fucking frozen curries and a few beers to be delivered to my room, because that’s what prospects are for. They should be glad I’m not making them clean up after Nixie. Huh. I actually could do that, couldn’t I? Why was I being so nice to them?
“You wanna watch something?” I pointed to the wall-mounted TV, the only real thing of value aside from my ride that I owned.
“I don’t know.”
She was looking conflicted, either that or grossed out by being here. Maybe my room just wasn’t conducive to her wanting to hang out in it. I could understand that, I mean, the first time I saw it, I thought Micro was taking the piss. We live in windowless fucking rooms? It’s like a cell.
“What do you want?”
V groaned and shook her head.
“I don’t know. Why am I here right now? Why am I hanging out with you when we barely know each other?
I just don’t fucking know. I’m such a mess right now, and tonight hasn’t helped.
I mean, it’s reminded me that a failed marriage isn’t the worst that can happen to a person, but it doesn’t fix my life, does it?
I’m still unwanted, having to start afresh at my age, and still living in my aunt’s house, like I didn’t have everything planned out. ”
Fuck me. Ask a question and get brain-dumped on, right?
“I meant, for right now, V.” I sat beside her, and caught Nixie as she leapt on me, tucking her face in my neck and probably slobbering on me.
“I… sorry…”
“No, don’t do that. Look, we don’t know each other incredibly well, that’s fair.
We really don’t. We get on though, well, occasionally.
Like now and then. Like pockets of getting along, and a whole lot of arguing.
I dunno. It works, doesn’t it? It was really kind of you to be here for me tonight, and I didn’t miss the fact that you’re hurting too.
That you were crying too. I want to be there for you as well.
That’s what friends do. I mean… I think it is, I don’t really have that many.
Sometimes feel like I don’t have any at all. ”
V sighed. “Wow, that started out pretty well, but soon made me want to go order the world’s smallest violin from eBay, and play you a fucking dirge.”
Fuck me. This woman. The laughter burst out of me, and I couldn’t fucking fight it. Where does she get this shit?
V
I’m a bitch. I know it, we all know it. Hell, even Caroline finally got over herself, and all her manners, and said it.
So why is it that Rocket seems to relish that side of me?
I’ve always been a little forthright, maybe occasionally acidic or harsh, but for some reason he doesn’t take it to heart, he seems to thrive on it.
He bounces it right back at me, and it makes me feel like maybe I’m not as awful as I think I am.
I mean, my ex-husband made sure to tell me what a bitch I am.
How unappealing I am. How it’s a wonder he could even get it up, to try and impregnate me.
I’d use that word Rocket keeps using, to describe him, but I can’t bring myself to say it.
I swear a lot, but that word is too far. It makes me shudder.
“If you’re done chewing me new assholes, let’s get comfy while we wait for the prospect to do his job. I’ve got some streaming subscriptions. I’m sure we can find something we both like.”
“Debatable, but we’ll give it a shot.” I settled back on the bed, against the leather headboard, but an awkwardness was settling in.
We barely knew each other, and we were huddled on his bed together, in his room, like we were more than just friends.
I could feel it, how we were both edging past friends, and into something more…
I don’t know, physical, maybe? I shouldn’t be doing this.
He didn’t deserve rebound girl, did he? He was worth more than that.
“Prospect is on his way back, apparently found a takeaway still open,” Rocket said, checking his phone as he pulled Nixie up to his face and made cooing noises at her.
“When’s her next feed due?”
He eyed me over her furry head.
“What time is it?”
My watch told me it was time I should be going home, but would I listen?
“Ten fifteen just gone.”
He grinned. “Aw baby, it’s time for more of your stinky milk stuff.
Do you want it? Yes you dooooo.” I couldn’t help laughing, because this huge muscly man was holding a puppy small enough to fill his hands, and he was clearly her bitch now.
If I’d worried about him being a furbaby father, I didn’t anymore.
Maybe hadn’t for a while. Hadn’t he done everything he could to look after and protect her?
He was clearly infatuated with her, and who could blame him?
“Want me to do it?”
He wriggled off the bed, and tucked Nixie against his chest.
“It’s all good, babe. I’m expert level at this point, you’ll see.”
Babe. He called me babe, and I didn’t want to let that word burrow into my chest, but it already had.
Babe? If Ted had called me that, I’d have chewed him a new one, but for some reason, from Rocket, it seemed natural.
Oh god. Was he destroying my reactions to words that had always bothered me?
Next he’d have me tolerating that awful C word, or the M word.
“You wanna get the door, babe?” I hadn’t even heard anyone knock, but I slithered off the bed, and headed over, opening it to the same guy who’d grudgingly let me in this evening.
“Beers,” he said, offering me a carrier bag of clanking bottles, which I set down right away, because there was also one of those cardboard trays filled with food containers.
The smells wafting up from it tore a little moan from my throat, and the guy grinned, looking far friendlier than he had earlier tonight.
“I know right? There was a late night takeaway open, so I figured why not. I had to get some for myself when I caught a whiff of it. Hey, sorry about earlier. I didn’t know you were Rocket’s bird, or I’d have-”
“His what?”
“Oh shit,” Rocket cursed from behind me, as he deftly slipped in front of me, and grabbed the box.
“Thanks, Joey, now fuck off, yeah?”
“Rocket!”
He pushed the door closed, despite my objections and carried the box to the bed, catching Nixie on her way to investigate it, and setting her on the carpet.
She yapped at him, and tried jumping at the bed, but let’s be honest, it was about three times taller than her at least, and never going to happen.
“Your bird?”
Rocket groaned as he straightened the bed covers, and set the beers out by the bed.
“He’s a dick, okay? He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
I swallowed hard, staying by the door.
“Have… do people think…”
Rocket abandoned the beers, which Nixie promptly started nosing at, and joined me by the door.
“I’ve never mentioned you to anyone here, that’s why he didn’t know a fucking thing, okay? I don’t talk about you, I wouldn’t talk about you, and I’m not disrespecting you. So can we sit the fuck down and eat? I’m starving.”
“Dickhead,” I muttered, pushing past him to head for the bed, but here’s the thing.
His words should have comforted me, but instead they burned in my chest. He won’t talk about me.
He ‘wouldn’t’ talk about me. Like I’m not worth mentioning?
Like I’m nobody to him? This is why we women are fucked up, because this is the shit our brains do to us.
“Is there anywhere to wash my hands before I eat?”
Rocket groaned and dug out a bottle of hand sanitiser, tossing it at me.
“It’s hell on your skin, but it makes them clean, yeah? This is how people manage with a shared fucking bathroom. I swear to god, the other clubhouse? I could have ordered us up two amazing dinners from Tommy, and we’d have been able to sit at an actual table in my old room. Fuck this place.”
It didn’t sound like he liked the club at all sometimes, so why was he here?
“Why did you move to this club, if the other one was so much better?”
He groaned, passing me a container, which contained my tikka masala I’d hinted at wanting.
“Look, it was a great place until it wasn’t, and it was a whole bunch of shit at once. Bad relationship, bad seed in the club, and me needing a clean break.”
He snorted then, as I stared at him, absorbing his words, and biting back questions, because it wasn’t my business, was it?
“Irony, right? The bad seed now runs this club, but hell, I needed to be away from there, so I’m learning to tolerate the cu… asshole.”
His eyes dodged mine as he almost used the word I hate, but he actually chose to stop himself, and that meant more than he could imagine. Be married to an asshole who goes out of his way to use terms you hate, and you’ll realise that he was always just that. An asshole.
Three beers in, as we stared at old episodes of Friends, and laughed over the jokes we’ve apparently both loved for decades, I found my inhibitions slipping.
“I begged him,” I blurted out, and Rocket muted the TV, turning to stare at me blearily. Maybe he’d had more beers. Or maybe I had, who knows?
“Begged who?”
I sighed, unable to stop words escaping me, because even though my wine tolerance is high, apparently my beer tolerance isn’t. Hell, maybe neither is.
“Ted. I… I begged him… to choose me…” I swallowed the lump in my throat, as humiliation burned my cheeks and tears stung my eyes.
“V…”
“He… he wanted her, not me, and… and I was pathetic. I cried. I begged. I was so fucking weak,” I spat, tears rolling down my cheeks as I took a deep breath, the sorrow impossible to hold back now, maybe because tonight had been so intense and painful.
“Babe…”
“I would have… would have changed, if that’s…
if that’s what he wanted…” my voice cracked and I took a deep breath, “but even that wasn’t enough…
not… not what… he told me… said getting it up was…
impossible with me anymo… anymore… didn’t…
not… not attractive…” My gibberish faded into wrenching sobs of anguish, and Rocket cursed, dragging me into his arms, and practically wrapping himself around me.