Chapter 11
Eleven
Melissa
Trusting a man like Light is like keeping a lit match near gasoline.
Shit is destined to go bad.
For right now, though, I'm just going to enjoy the heat.
"You look really pretty, Mom, are you going out?" Tyler asks from the doorway of the kitchen.
"Hmm?" I look down at my outfit. It's nothing special, just some jeans and a nice shirt.
"No, I'm here with you, baby." I smile at him and go back to cleaning up for the fourth time in the last hour.
I'm not going anywhere tonight, but I am expecting Light to show up any minute.
It's almost like a ritual now, hearing the sound of his bike rumbling down the road in the direction of my house.
I hate to admit it, but I'm really looking forward to it tonight. My stomach is in knots and I can't seem to release all the nervous energy coursing through my system.
Light has been coming here like clockwork every night for nearly two weeks now. I know I shouldn't get used to it, but I can't help myself. It doesn't help that I can feel myself starting to develop a crush on him. More than a crush. A deep-seated need for him.
"Mom, can I ask you a question, and you promise you won't get mad?" Tyler shifts uncomfortably.
I drop the rag in my hand and give him my undivided attention. "Of course, Ty, what's up?"
"Well, I know you always say that I'm your best friend, but it looks like you and Light are friends too. Right?"
Crap, I think I know where this is going.
"Yeah, Light and I are friends."
"I thought so, but you're a different kind of friends, right? I mean, are you friends like how I see on TV?"
"What do you mean, how you see on TV?"
"Like the kind of friends, who hold hands and kiss? Is he your boyfriend?"
My face heats up, and I clear my throat, looking away from him for a moment before settling myself to answer my son. "No, he's not my boyfriend. He's just a good friend. But..." I move a little closer to Tyler as I continue to speak.
He and I have never really talked about my romantic life. There was never a need. I've never found anyone who I wanted to explore with, but maybe Light is different. "How would you feel if he was? Do you like Light?"
Tyler's eyes brighten instantly, and a wide smile grows on his face, "Yeah mom, Light is the best. I'd be okay if he was your boyfriend. You deserve to go out on dates and stuff like that. It would be good." He nods his head once and turns to go back in the living room.
The conversation is over for him, but it's still running rampant in my mind.
Did my son just give me the green light to date? Is it selfish of me to even be considering it?
Before I can get too deep into the rabbit hole, everything dims, except for the sound of a motorcycle rumbling in our direction.
Light.
Taking a breath, I smooth my hair down and try to slowly make my way to the door so I can greet him.
As I open the door, he's getting off his bike.
God, the man is one sexy specimen. Every movement shows the muscles and strength in him. Even fully clothed, I can't help but picture what it would look like if he were to take me. How small he would make me feel. How protected.
I don't need to tell him that, though. Light is already confident enough. If I were to tell him I thought he looked good, I'm sure his already over inflated head would just cause him to float away.
Light catches sight of me standing in the doorway and flashes a grin that nearly buckles my knees.
"Hey, beautiful," he says, voice low and rough like gravel.
Before I can even think of a witty comeback, he steps closer. His hand brushes my hip lightly as he leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek.
The contact is innocent.
It should be innocent.
But I linger a second too long, caught in the warm press of his lips and the rough scrape of stubble against my skin.
I finally force myself to step back, clearing my throat and reaching for his hand to tug him inside.
As soon as our fingers link, I feel it.
The sharp flinch he tries to hide.
I glance down automatically and catch sight of his knuckles, bruised and torn, the skin split in jagged little slices.
My stomach twists.
"What happened?" I ask, my voice sharper than I mean it to be.
His jaw tightens for a second, but then he shrugs it off with a crooked smile.
"Something dumb," he says, like that explains anything.
Before I can press him, he squeezes my hand gently and steers me into the house like he can distract me with a touch.
Maybe he can.
Maybe I let him.
We fall into our familiar rhythm, the three of us.
Tyler chatters away about a new video game he has been playing, proudly showing Light a sloppy drawing of a character he made up. Light crouches down, giving Tyler his full attention, like he is presenting blueprints for NASA or something.
Watching them together does something dangerous to me.
There is a tight, aching kind of warmth blooming in my chest.
Tyler has never had anyone around like this before. His father was there when he was younger, but now he's only a memory.
And Light, this rough, tough, completely inappropriate-for-me man, is sliding into our lives so easily it terrifies me.
I busy myself in the kitchen pretending to straighten up while I sneak glances at them.
At the way Light ruffles Tyler’s hair without hesitation.
At the way Tyler beams up at him like he hung the moon.
My body betrays me as I watch.
Every glance, every deep rumble of Light’s laugh, every way he says my son’s name with such ease sets my skin on fire.
I am not just emotionally tangled anymore.
There are very real, very lustful, very inappropriate thoughts running wild in my mind.
Thoughts that have no business taking root.
Thoughts that feel way too good to ignore.
After Tyler’s nightly breathing treatment and a quick bedtime story courtesy of Light, who has absolutely no skill at reading but makes up for it with ridiculous voices, we finally get Tyler settled in for the night.
The house falls quiet, thick with the kind of silence that wraps around you and makes me feel things I know I shouldn't.
Light flops down on the couch and pats the spot next to him.
I hesitate for a second before crossing the room and sitting down, keeping just enough space between us to pretend it is safe.
He tilts his head back against the cushion, eyes closed, looking almost relaxed.
Almost.
"You alright?" I ask softly.
He opens one eye and looks at me.
The bruises on his knuckles catch my attention again.
"I am good," he says after a beat. "Better now."
The words are simple, but the way he says them, the way he looks at me when he does, feels anything but simple.
My heart taps a frantic beat against my ribs.
The tension stretches tight between us, humming in the air like a live wire.
Neither of us moves.
Neither of us speaks.
The heat is unbearable.
And part of me wonders how much longer we can hold back before it consumes us both.
I clear my throat and pull my feet up on the couch so I can sit criss cross. Anything to keep myself from lunging at this man right now.
It's the silence that's getting to me. I just need to fill the space.
"So, you've been coming by a lot lately." I broach the subject.
Light turns slightly in his seat to look at me, pulling one of his legs up on the couch. "Yeah, that's not a problem, is it? You need some space from me?"
My eyes open wide, "No, no, that's not what I'm saying.
I'm just concerned that you're giving up all your free time to be here with us.
I don't want to become a burden. I'm sure there are other people who'd like some of your attention too.
" I cringe at the shameless tactic. I could've just asked him if he was seeing anyone, but I had to go the hard way.
That sly smile creeps up his face. "You're not a burden, Melissa and no, there's no one else who needs my attention."
I bite the corner of my lip and stuff my hands under my thighs. I've already started this, I might as well see it through. "Why is that? I mean, I don't see any reason why you don't have dates lined up until next year. Is there a reason you're single?"
The smile drops from his face, and he fists his hands on his thighs for a second before he releases them, "I don't do relationships. I fuck and leave. Nothing more."
The intensity of his answer smacks me in the face and I jerk back as if it was a physical blow.
"Wow, well, that's too bad for you. Seems a little unfulfilling." I shrug.
"It's for the best. Relationships are nothing but trouble."
"You can't mean that...do you?" I lean forward slightly. There's more to this story. More to Light. I want to know all of it.
"I do. My experience has already given me all the fucking proof I'll ever need not to get involved with anyone like that again."
"Tell me about it. What happened to make you feel this way."
The anger in his eyes dwindles slightly before he takes a breath and speaks, "I was in a relationship once. Alisha. I thought she was my everything. I'd have given my life and soul for that woman, but it turns out instead all it took for her to show her true colors was my freedom."
Light leans forward, his elbows braced on his knees, his hands clasped tight like he is holding himself together by a thread.
"I was young and dumb," he says, voice low. "Met Alisha when I was still figuring my shit out. She was...everything. Smart. Sexy. Dangerous in a way that made you want to jump headfirst off a cliff for her."
I stay quiet, letting him work through it at his own pace.
"She told me her boss had dirt on her. Said he had some personal shit on a hard drive. Stuff that could ruin her life. Blackmail, she called it."
He snorts bitterly and shakes his head.
"So she comes to me all wide-eyed and desperate. Begs me to help. Said all I had to do was break into his house, snag the hard drive, and get out. Easy."
He spits the word like it is poison.
"But she never told me he was going to be home. Never told me he was gonna walk in while I was pulling the damn computer apart. We fought. It got ugly fast. He pulled a gun. I had to beat the shit out of him just to make it out of there alive."
He goes quiet for a second, his jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscles twitching.
I reach out and rest my hand lightly on his forearm. His skin is hot under my palm, buzzing with restrained fury.
"Guy ended up in the hospital. Broken ribs. Broken jaw. Some internal bleeding. They said he spent a few weeks laid up before he could even walk again."
Light laughs under his breath, but there is no humor in it.
"The cops found me a couple hours later. Traced me by the busted doorbell cam. I could have told them the truth. Could have thrown Alisha under the bus."
He looks at me then, and the weight of it nearly knocks the air out of my lungs.
"But I didn’t. I told them it was all me. Said it was my idea. Took a plea deal and did three years for it."
My stomach twists painfully.
"Did you ever hear from her?" I ask softly, even though I already know the answer from the dead look in his eyes.
He shakes his head once.
"Not a single call. Not a visit. Nothing.
Turns out while I was rotting in a cell, she was living it up with some other guy.
Some piece of shit she had been with the whole time.
They used the info they stole to pull some kind of scam and make a quick buck.
I was just the idiot who did the dirty work. "
I sit there, stunned, feeling the bitterness rolling off him in thick waves.
"I gave up my freedom for a woman who never loved me," he says, voice raw. "Whole relationship was a goddamn lie."
Silence settles between us, thick and heavy.
I slide my hand from his arm to his hand, lacing my fingers with his gently.
Light tenses at first like he is not sure if he deserves even that small kindness.
Then slowly, he lets out a long breath and relaxes into it.
"You are not that same man," I whisper. "You are not that mistake."
His fingers tighten around mine, just slightly, like he is afraid if he lets go, the moment will shatter.
For a second, it feels like the only two people in the world are me and him, connected by more than just touch.
Before the tension can get any thicker he pulls his hand away and combs it through his hair.
"Yeah, still that shit is on my record. I'm always going to be an ex-con.
Always going to be one of the bad guys. I'll never get away from that mistake.
All because I trusted a woman to be real with me.
Trusted her to take care of me the same way I was willing to take care of her. I'm not going down that road again."
The more he talks the more I can feel the dread building up inside of me.
Even though I previously told myself that I didn't want anything with Light, to hear him say without a doubt that there will never be anything between us is hurtful.
He is holding a grudge against my entire gender because of what one women did to him.
"You do realize, not all women are like that.
What Alisha did was fucked up, no doubt, but that doesn't mean every woman is out to do the same things.
You deserve..." I lean closer and grab his hand again so he can feel the words I'm about to say, "You deserve a woman to care and love you.
Someone who will worry about you and keep you safe.
You try to hide it but I see through the overly flirtatious puns and the cocky attitude, you're a good man Light. You deserve happiness too."
When did he get closer to me? A second ago we were on opposite sides of the small couch and now he's inches away from my face again.
Kiss me!
Do it, please!
My mind screams and I hold my breath waiting for him to make the move.
A cough from Tyler's room shatters the moment. Light blinks a few times, shakes his head and pulls away. "I'll get the sheets from the closet. You should get some sleep." He stands and walks away leaving me on the couch breathless and just a little embarrassed.
He's right. I know he is. We don't need to jump into anything together. Neither of us are in the right state of mind to start a relationship. With a sigh, I get up and walk over to Tyler's room.
I push open the door, lean against the jam and watch Tyler as he sleeps. He coughs again but doesn't wake. My eyes settle on the rise and fall of his chest. It's a little faster than usual. His breathing a little rougher than I'd like.
No, Light is right. I can't fall for him. Not now.
Because if I fall for him, I'm not sure I'll survive the landing.