Chapter 32
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
Mascen
The water cascades over me, dripping from my hair to the floor of the shower. Rubbing my face, I push my hair back, tilting my head up to the ceiling. My cock is hard and throbbing, but I refuse to wrap my hand around it, choosing to punish myself instead. It would’ve been so easy to move aside the fabric of Rory’s shorts pull down my pants and fuck her against the wall. I wanted to. So bad. Especially when she orgasmed just from rubbing herself against me. But I couldn’t do it. It feels wrong because of Cole. Few people are loyal to me, and when they are I value them above everything else. Rory might’ve broken things off with him, but that doesn’t mean his feelings for her went away. I know I’d be breaking some kind of guy code by pursuing her.
But I can’t seem to stop myself from wanting her.
Gritting my teeth, I can’t take it any longer. Wrapping my fist around my cock I stroke it, closing my eyes and pretending it’s Rory I’m sinking into and not my fist doing all the work.
“Fuck.” My head lolls back. Bracing my left hand against the wall I fist myself harder, almost too hard, but the pain feels good because even though I’m giving in, it’s a reminder that I can’t do this. When it comes to her I need to get a better grip on my self-control.
I hope the shower is loud enough to drown out my moan as I come. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I struggle to catch my breath. Cleaning up I get out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist.
I don’t know what made me kiss her like I did. I was waiting outside the bathroom for her to finish and even though I was only waiting a few minutes the longer I stood there the more my brain decided to flood me with images. Ones of Rory standing in the shower. Naked and soaking wet. Her long hair hanging over her breasts.
As soon as she opened the door, I lost it.
Climbing up the stairs to the attic I drop onto the bed heaving a massive sigh. This is uncharted waters for me. I’ve never liked a girl, had this kind of connection, like I do with Rory. As explosive as our chemistry is, and as much as I want to fuck her, I’m worried even if I did it wouldn’t be enough.
When the door to my room opens I brace myself, expecting it to be Rory coming up to yell and berate me. Instead, my dad stands there. His arms are crossed over his chest. “We didn’t get to talk much tonight.”
I pick up the baseball from beside my bed, tossing it from hand to hand.
“No, we didn’t.”
He sighs, taking a step closer. His hands fall to his sides. “I’m sorry you thought I was interrogating Rory.”
I narrow my eyes. “You were but stop apologizing.”
He runs his fingers through his hair in agitation. “I don’t know how to talk to you.”
Sitting up, I swing my legs over the side of the bed. “You never have, Dad.”
His brows furrow in confusion. “What does that mean?”
Standing, I drop the baseball on my bed. “You’ve always cared more about Willow and Lylah. What they’re doing, what they like, showing up for them. But me?” I spread my arms wide. “You’re absentee. I can’t do anything right for you.”
His lips part in surprise. “Mase, I don’t know what you mean. I’ve always been here for you, but you’ve never seemed to need me like your sisters.”
“Really? Because that’s not the way I remember it.”
“How do you remember it?” His voice is soft, almost crestfallen which only serves to piss me off more. I want to see a fire in him, a fight to understand, not this dejectedness.
“I remember learning how to ride a bike but you were more concerned making sure Willow didn’t bust her head skateboarding. When we learned to swim at the sports center you stuck with Lylah and the lifeguard helped me.” I’m on a roll now, unable to stop. “When I started baseball, mom took me to practice. She sat in the stands. The times when you came you looked like you didn’t want to be there and numerous times you got up and left. My last game as a senior you showed up late and left before it was over. Nothing I’ve ever done has been good enough for you. You don’t ask me about school and how it’s going. You still don’t ask about baseball and last year Mom, Willow, and Lylah came to a game when we traveled to Virginia but once again you didn’t. I’m going to be a fucking doctor, but you don’t seem one bit proud of it while Willow walks on water and she’s a college drop out.”
He stands there stunned. My chest heaves. I didn’t even realize I’d gotten so heated and out of breath. I knew I’d bottled shit up, but I never intended to explode like this.
He nods up and down, eyes downcast to the floor. If I didn’t know better I’d think he was going to cry.
My dad’s a goofball, the one always laughing and having a good time. The life of the party. He’s a good guy, I know that, but even good people don’t always know how to do the right thing.
“I … um … goodnight.”
He slips out the door, closing it carefully behind him. The tiny click of it shutting feels like a gunshot straight to my heart. I don’t want to hurt my dad, I really don’t, but it’s true—nothing I’ve done has ever been of interest to him.
And at this point I’m tired of pretending it’s okay with me.
“Oh my God!” Rory’s hand flies to her heart when she opens her bedroom door and finds me lurking there. “Don’t scare me like that.” She swats at my arm.
Amusement curls my lips. “I want to take you somewhere.”
It’s after lunch and I’m desperate to get out of the house, so I started thinking of things I could take Rory to do. I’m sure she needs to get out as much as I do. Neither one of us has said anything about the kiss. I haven’t spoken with my dad either. By the time I got up he was gone to the studio.
“Take me where?” Her eyes narrow in suspicion. She never trusts me, rightfully so, but…
“You don’t trust me? I’m wounded.”
“You don’t give me very many reasons to.”
“But you’re not saying you don’t. You like chocolate right? Ice cream?” She nibbles on her delectable bottom lips and nods. “Then let’s go.”
She doesn’t protest this time, following me downstairs. Passing my mom in the hall I drop a kiss on her cheek and let her know we’re going.
Rory doesn’t say much on the twenty-minute drive into downtown. Pulling into one of the garages I grab the ticket from the machine and park.
Rory hops out, sticking her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. Her orange Aldridge sweatshirt makes her brown eyes seem more golden. She reaches up, adjusting her glasses like usual, oblivious to me staring at her. Smoothing a lock of brown hair behind her ear she motions with her arm. “Lead the way, Lestat.”
Exiting the garage at the other end we walk across the street and through an alley to get to the row of shops on the walking mall. Turning to my right, Rory struggles to keep up with my long-legged stride but I don’t slow down.
Sugarland comes into view, the old candy and sundae shop one of my favorite places in the whole town.
Holding the door open for Rory, I can be a gentleman when I want, I enter behind her to see her looking around in awe.
“I remember this place,” she gasps, head tilted back as she takes everything in. “My dad brought me here a few times. Well, me and Hazel.”
She doesn’t talk about her sister much and I wonder what’s going on there. Clearly things weren’t easy for them, but I would’ve thought it would have bonded the two girls more closely. Obviously not.
The family owned store hasn’t changed much. I can see in her eyes she’s been taken back to another time.
She spins in a circle.
Standing back, I stick my hands in my pockets, watching her take it all in.
The red and white checkered floors, the ceiling with fake candy hanging from every inch of space, the old-time soda pop counter, candy stations, and the sundae builder. It’s a little kid’s dream—but the best part of being an adult is no one can tell us we can’t have too much.
The bell on the door clangs as someone comes in behind us. I move out of the way, letting them pass.
Finally, she lowers her head, and meets my eyes. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
I shrug off her praise. “It’s just ice cream.”
She shakes her head, her eyes shiny behind the frames of her glasses. “No, Mascen. It’s more.”
Placing my hand at the bottom of her waist I guide her toward the start of the line. Her eyes flick up to mine with surprise, forcing me to drop my hand.
“What can I get y’all today?” The lady behind the counter asks.
Rory’s eyes go from the menu to me, challenge glimmering in their depths. “Are you buying?”
“That was the plan.”
She points. “The Kitchen Sink, then.” Eyes back to me, she adds, “And I’m not sharing.”
“Are you sure, dear? It’s huge.”
“I’m positive.”
“It’s fifty dollars,” the lady says, like it’s not listed plainly on the menu.
“Don’t worry, Mascen can afford it.”
The lady looks back at me and pales realizing who I am. Most people in this town are used to my family and don’t give us much notice, which is nice. Basically at this point they’re so used to us that we’re not exciting anymore.
“Of course.” She lowers her head, trying to hide her blush.
She grabs the kitchen sink looking bowl they use for the specialty dessert and starts adding in all the different ice cream flavors and toppings. Rory licks her lips in anticipation. I don’t think she even realizes she’s done it.
After The Kitchen Sink is perfectly prepared it’s my turn.
“A banana shake?” Rory protests incredulously when I tell the lady what I want. “That’s all? Live a little, Norman Bates.”
“I am living, I’m having a milkshake.”
“But it’s banana,” she gasps like this is the most blasphemous things ever. “Everyone knows chocolate is the best milkshake flavor.”
“No, banana.”
The woman finishes mixing my shake and moves everything down to the antique register. Passing over my debit card she rings everything up and I sign the slip. Rory licks her lips in anticipation and picks up her sink, carrying it to one of the booths.
Elvis Presley’s voice croons from the antique jukebox about a hound dog
Sliding in across from her I wrap my lips around the wide yellow straw. “Delicious.”
“Mine’s better.” She digs into the vanilla ice cream portion coming out with a spoonful covered in fudge, sprinkles, and whipped cream. The moan she makes when she licks the spoon clean should be illegal.
“I’d argue mine is better, Princess.”
She narrows her eyes and I’m so busy looking in her eyes, enjoying the impromptu staring contest, that I completely miss what she’s doing with her hands.
I jolt in surprise when cold sticky ice cream splatters on my face.
Rory doesn’t make a move, waiting for me to react, but after only a few seconds she can’t hold her laughter in any longer.
“That was cold.” The words are monotone. I purposely don’t want her to know whether I’m pissed off or amused.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She pretends to frown. “Want me to get that for you?”
She reaches across like she’s going to wipe it from my face with her finger.
Dipping my finger in her bowl where she can’t see I scoop up some of the ice cream and wipe it down her cheek. She jerks back in surprise, her delectable lips parting.
“You. Didn’t.”
I pick up my shake taking a sip. “You started it, Princess.”
“This is war.”
“Shit!” I curse, earning me a glare from a nearby family with their two kids. But Rory pelted me in the chest with a glob of ice cream. “Are you kidding me?”
She giggles, lobbing me with more.
I pick up my shake dumping the contents over her head.
“Ahh!” She screams. “It’s so sticky and all over me!”
“That’s what she said,” I mutter under my breath.
“Ugh!” She throws more ice cream at me. She might be trying to sound irritated, but her grin and laughter says otherwise.
It isn’t long, maybe thirty more seconds before our fun is ruined by the squawking employee who served us. “What are you doing? Stop that! You’re making a huge mess!” Around us the table, booth, and floor is covered in gooey ice cream, not to mention ourselves. “This is such a disaster! It’s going to take forever to clean up! I’m so sorry for the disturbance.” She quiets her voice turning to the others seated in the dining area.
“You don’t have to worry,” Rory speaks up, raising a reassuring hand. “We’ll clean it up.”
My head swings back in her direction. “We will?”
“Of course,” she bites out.
The woman pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’ll get you everything you need.”
“We’re not cleaning.” I make to slide out of the booth and she kicks my shin. “Ow, Princess. Watch yourself.”
“We made the mess, we’re cleaning up.”
“You started it.”
“And you participated.”
I blow out a breath, the ice cream already drying in a sticky layer on my skin.
The woman, Lorelai according to her name tag, returns with a bucket, mop, and a pile of rags. “Get started.”
Her voice is nothing less than pissed off. I know we made a giant mess but let us have our fun.
“Come on, Pretty Boy.” Rory slides out of the booth and grabs the mop, passing it to me. “Let’s get started.”
“I can’t believe we got banned for life. What a load of bullshit,” I grumble, walking through the garage.
We’re both still covered in ice cream and I’m kind of sad I dumped my ice cream on her head. I wanted that milkshake.
Rory closes the door leading into the house behind her and follows me down the hall into the open entry.
“Oh my God.” My mom’s hand flies to her chest at the sight of us as she’s walking out of the kitchen. “What happened to you guys?”
“The ice cream exploded,” I deadpan.
“Food fight,” Rory answers.
“She started it,” I add quickly, lest my mother think this disaster is my fault. I’m an angel.
Her eyes flicker between us, one of those sighs only mothers seem capable of pulling off emanating from her. You know the one that says she wants to know more but isn’t about to ask.
“Just clean yourselves up.” Shaking her head and muttering to herself she heads into the den.
Leading the way upstairs and down the hall the two of us pause outside the bathroom.
Rory takes a step back, eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”
“We can’t share a shower sweetheart?”
“I’m sure there are plenty of others you can use in this house.”
“There’s my sister’s and my parents, but this is mine .”
“You don’t have one up there?” She points at the ceiling.
“Nope. This one’s mine and the guest bath. It’s an old house, Princess, not a lot of bathrooms.”
She works her jaw back and forth.
Lowering my head, I twist a lock of her hair around my finger, my lips millimeters from her cheek. “I’ll let you off the hook this time.” I tug her hair lightly. “Enjoy your shower, Princess.” I swipe my tongue over a spot of dried vanilla ice cream on her face. “I know I will.”
Turning my back on her I walk away.