Chapter Thirteen
Renegade
All night I’ve slept maybe three hours. I haven’t wanted to miss anything, because Whitney letting me in her bed to do this isn’t going to be a regular occurrence.
With everything I have in me, I know that to be a fact.
Last night, she’d been weak. She’d needed someone to take care of her, and she’d been strong enough to let me do it.
I have no doubt as soon as she wakes up and realizes I’m still in her bed, she’s gonna kick me out.
Am I okay with that? Not really, but I’m not in any position to make demands.
I want the two of us to have an amicable relationship.
She holds all the power to let me see my child too, so I want to be the type of guy she can get along with and be proud to have in her corner.
Her ex-husband wasn’t like that, from everything I can gather. I want to be different, be a much better man than he ever thought he could be.
There’s one thing I can’t deny though. How right it feels to have her in my arms. Sometime in the middle of the night, she snuggled up to me.
Taking advantage of it, I pulled her into my chest and I haven’t let her go since.
So many of my teenage dreams involve this – hell, I’m not ashamed to say it got me through some hard nights in Iraq, too.
Over there, it’s whatever gets you through the night, and Whitney got me there.
She’s stirring and it’s making me nervous, I don’t want to go yet.
There are things I want to know about her.
How does she take her coffee? What’s the first thing she does in the morning?
What does she have for breakfast? Does she wear a robe?
Is she a morning shower person? These are all questions most people in relationships learn about each other, but I’m not sure if I’ll be afforded the same opportunity most people have.
“Ryan, you gotta let me go,” she says, an urgency in her voice.
I’m not sure why, but I don’t even question it.
In a flash, she’s out of the bed and she’s running for the bathroom.
Seconds later, I hear her emptying her stomach.
The sound is awful and it makes me want to puke, but I man up.
This is something I’ve been fighting to be a part of – I need to be in there with her.
Getting up, I stumble in behind her, cringing when I hear another round.
Ryan Kepler can handle this shit – I figure if I say it enough, it’ll stick.
She’s leaning over the porcelain and I do what any man worth his salt would do.
I lean behind her and grab her hair out of the way, rubbing her back as she heaves.
“You don’t have to stay,” she tells me as she tries to catch her breath.
“Get the fuck outta here. I’m not going anywhere.”
I hope she realizes how true the words I speak are.
“I know you can’t have caffeinated coffee, but do you have decaf?” I ask as I navigate Whitney’s kitchen. It’s starting to become as familiar to me as my own. If this is the only way she’ll let me take care of her, then so be it. I’ll take what I can get.
She’s leaning on the bar, her head in her hands. “It’s to your left.”
I open the cabinet door and spot the bag of coffee. “You need anything else? Would toast make you feel better?”
I’m trying not to pay attention to the fact I’m wearing no shirt and she’s in her pajamas. Granted, I’ve seen her naked, and she’s seen me naked, but this is so much more intimate than anything else we’ve ever done.
“Toast would be great,” she gives me a small smile.
She’s so pale and she’s shaky. It occurs to me, she does this by herself every morning.
Nobody’s here to take care of her; she does what she has to do and then she goes to work, comes home, and takes care of herself again.
It’s wrong. It’s not how I want this to be, and I hope she’ll feel the same way.
The only way I can prove how invaluable I am is to be here when she needs me. “Coming right up. Dry?”
“Yeah,” she laughs softly. “I tried butter one day. Our child didn’t like that at all.”
It makes my breath catch as she mentions our child. I don’t know how to respond to what she’s said, but I do my best. “Already a picky eater, huh? Totally didn’t take after me,” I joke, a smile on my own face.
“How true is that statement?” she lifts her head off her hands and gives me a fond look. “I remember you and Trevor eating pizza rolls with honey. I mean who in the world does that? It looks so nasty.”
“It’s the sweet and salty thing,” I defend my food choices. “Besides, that’s a cheat meal now. I can’t eat like that these days and still have this body,” I run my hand down my abs. “I have to do extra sit ups and lots of weights to keep these now.”
Her eyes have followed my hand, and I can’t help but to feel a little cocky and conceited. She likes my body? I can work with that. The toast pops and I grab the two pieces, putting them on a Styrofoam plate. Grabbing the coffee pot that’s finished brewing, I bring that over as well.
“Look at you being all domesticated and making me breakfast,” she pours her coffee and begins doctoring it.
“I made you dinner last night, too. There’s a lot I can do for you, if you let me,” I wink, hoping those words didn’t sound as provocative to her as they did to me.
She takes a drink of her coffee, seeming to think about what I’m saying.
“We’re gonna have to take it one day at a time, Ryan.
I understand how badly you want to be a part of my life, of this child’s life, and I’ve told you I don’t want to keep you away.
I won’t keep you away. Please understand though, I need to protect myself, too.
Just because you’ll be there for our child doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be there for me, and I understand that. ”
I don’t know what to say to her. Anything I can think of sounds like I’m a fucking stalker, and I don’t want to scare her off.
“As long as you’ll allow me, I’ll be there for the both of you.
Whit, I think you know, whether you want to admit it or not, how I feel about you.
I don’t see that changing, since it hasn’t really changed since I was old enough to know what that tickle in my stomach was when I saw you,” she looks like she wants to protest. Putting my hand up, I stop her.
“I understand you’re not there yet, and you may never be there.
I’m starting to understand what an ass your ex was.
I’m willing to put the time in, just let me do it.
Let me be here when you need help, and I’ll prove you can count on me. ”
She takes a drink of her coffee, pondering my words.
I can almost see the inner workings of her head.
I’m surprised smoke and steam isn’t rising from her forehead.
At some point I realize I have a shot. Her eyes have softened and she’s giving me a real smile.
The one that shows the laugh lines on her face. My hope meter is off the charts.
“Okay,” she stops my words with a hand in my face.
“I’m willing to give you a shot. If you want to prove to me you’re in this for the long haul, then I’ll let you be here.
Starting out we can have dinner together every Tuesday and Thursday night,” she finishes.
“If you already have plans, I only ask that you let me know.”
I can do anything she asks of me. This will be a piece of cake.
“I’m not asking you to cook for me all the time either,” she’s saying. “We work as a team, because Ryan, we’ve got to figure out how to be a team.”
I grab her hand and kiss the back of it. “I think we’ve proven what a good team we can be.”
She throws me a look. “We’ve got to prove we can get along outside the bedroom, too. We’ve got at least eighteen years to put up with each other.”
If it’s up to me, it’ll be the rest of our lives, but I know she’s not ready to hear that right now. She may never be ready to hear those words, and it’s a bridge I’ll cross if we ever come to it. For now, I’ll take this gift she’s given me and I will impress the fuck outta this woman.
She won’t know what hit her. In a really good way.