Chapter Seven
World
Rosalie
I was kinda
embarrassed that I essentially watched out the window, waiting for Snapper
since around five minutes after he texted to say he’d picked up the food and
was on his way.
And when he arrived, still watching, I was totally shocked
when he got out of his truck and went around to the passenger side to nab two
plastic bags stuffed with stacked food containers.
There had to be enough food in those to feed six people.
I didn’t know what he’d read (and was beyond caring) when I
opened the front door way before he got close to it. Snapper probably already
caught me watching through the window (I’d be hard to miss) so it didn’t matter
anyway.
But really, I was just glad he was there and I didn’t care
he knew it.
“You should have parked in the garage, Mulder,” I told him
when he was six feet away.
“I don’t have a remote, Scully,” he replied.
“You don’t have a remote to your own garage?” I asked.
He made it to me and I stepped aside for him and his two
bags to get through.
And he did this saying, “It’s your garage, Rosie.”
“I don’t even have a rental agreement.”
Snap had no reply to that.
He just walked to the kitchen.
I closed the door and followed him, asking, “Is the whole
Club coming over for dinner?”
He dumped the bags on the countertop, turned, shrugging off
his cut to toss it also on the counter, revealing a skintight cream thermal
that was drool-worthy, and grinned at me. “I wanted you to have what you wanted
so I bought everything you said you liked, but before you get grateful on me, I
had an ulterior motive since Indian leftovers are the shit.”
I loved the first part of that and he was right about the
second part, so I smiled back.
He started undoing the tied handles of the bags while I
decided not to get stuck on the fact that it was a hair down day for Snapper,
and I liked it, as well as the fact that he was letting his beard grow in,
though it was still longer at the chin, and the way the growth was progressing
looked crazy-good on him.
Instead, I tore my eyes away from his unique brand of
handsomeness and got out plates, cutlery, and beers.
“You have a good time with your mom?” he asked, taking out
the containers, lining them up on the counter and flipping them open.
“We always have a good time,” I answered.
“She’s pretty awesome,” he murmured.
She was.
I was just thrilled to know he thought she was.
“She likes you too,” I shared.
His head turned my way and the expression on his face told
me this sounded like a throwaway conversation, but it was anything but to
Snapper. He wanted my mom to like him because he wanted a future with me.
“Good,” he said.
I tucked my hair behind my ear and grabbed some spoons,
shoving them in the containers as Snap opened them.
We dished up, grabbed our beers, and headed to my couch. I
settled in, ready to tuck in, feeling nervous and shy.
This wasn’t about the conversation we were going to have.
Snap hadn’t left much in doubt that he wanted to go there with me. We had some
tough stuff to get through, but Snapper had proved he was adept at handling me.
It was about after, when we’d go another there.
It was all well and good waking up with Snapper mostly naked
in the bed he bought me in the house he’d given me after a perfect night.
But right then it was so much more.
If this conversation went well, this was going to happen.
And I knew it meant everything to him.
It meant the same to me.
So that other there we might be going to tonight had to go awesome.
Snap didn’t join me on the couch at first.
Instead, he put his plate and beer down on the coffee table
and moved to the fireplace. He turned a knob on the side and the fire jumped to
life.
He didn’t whip out his phone and set the speakers I’d
noticed that were set in the ceiling to playing Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It
On.”
But it still set the scene.
Oh yeah.
I was nervous and feeling shy.
I pushed some butter chicken into the center pile of rice
and shoved it in my mouth.
Snap sat opposite me on the couch and grabbed his plate.
I chewed, swallowed, and asked, “Do you do the yard work?”
He looked to me. “Come again?”
“The yard.” I jerked my head toward the door behind us.
“It’s all set for the winter. Do you do the yard work?”
“No,” he told me.
He didn’t expound.
Then again, he didn’t really need to.
I looked to the plate, shoved some chicken korma into the
rice and ate that, still staring at my plate.
“What gives, Scully?” he asked.
I looked to him, chewed, swallowed and said, “Nothing
gives.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re bein’
weird.”
“I am?” I asked.
But I was.
I was all the way across the couch, shoved into a corner, my
plate in front of my chin like I hadn’t had food in six months and was intent
to shovel it in, my body screaming, “This is my space, do not invade it!”
“We’re eating and having a conversation. I’m not gonna jump you on the couch through butter chicken,” he
stated.
“You turned on the fire,” I pointed out.
“So? That fire rocks. It’s February. It was a pain in the
ass to get that fucker in and I’ve never had the opportunity to enjoy it. So I
turned it on.”
“It’s romantic,” I said softly.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’m here. You’re here. We’re gonna sort our shit so I’m feelin’
romantic, baby. But I’m hungry and we got shit to talk about so before I do
anything about that feeling, I’m gonna eat and we’re gonna talk, and if we’re both there
after, we’ll explore that feeling. Right now, it’s just nice to be
sitting on a couch, just you and me, having dinner. We’ve never had that. So
might as well do it up right.”
He did that all the time.
He always did it up right.
And he was very correct.
It was nice to be there, just Snap and me, for the first
time.
It just sucked there was so much heavy we had to get
through, hopefully successfully, before we could get past it.
I decided right then it was time to get past it.
“You know, you mean the world to me too,” I blurted.
He blinked.
I kept blurting.
“It’s just that I’m worried about losing you to whatever is
going on with Benito Valenzuela and Bounty, because I’m guessing that’s
dangerous. And I know Chaos are vigilantes and you patrol your turf and that
makes me anxious. I also was with a guy but then started falling for you when I
was with that guy and obviously you know I was with that guy so now you know
that happened, and I’m worried that you’re gonna
think I’m messed up, going from guy to guy to guy even when I’m with a
guy and that might happen to you. The part, I mean, about jumping to another
guy when I’m with you.”
I took in a huge breath and then kept talking.
“This house is beautiful and the bed is amazing but we
haven’t talked about how much rent is gonna be so
you’re not out money, looking after me. We also haven’t talked about how I’m gonna pay you back for the bed. And Mom pointed something
out today that I feel crap about, knowing you had feelings for me and I was
doing something dangerous, which probably worried you sick since you couldn’t
protect me. And this makes me think that I’m all about me, or that you’ll think
I’m all about me. Selfish and self-involved and not considering other people’s
feelings.”
When I stopped talking and kept silent for a while, Snapper
spoke.
“Is that it?”
He wanted more?
“Isn’t that enough?” I queried.
He nodded and said, “Just makin’
sure that’s all we got.”
“Um…do you have anything you wanna
discuss?” I asked and finished apprehensively. “I mean, since it seems we’re
setting the night’s agenda.”
He looked like he was trying hard not to start laughing.
Then his white teeth came out, sunk right in the center of
his beautiful lower lip just like they did at Zip’s. I got mesmerized at the
same time sidetracked, and it was me wondering if I should jump him through the
butter chicken.
Sadly, he let his lip go and spoke, breaking the spell.
“How about we break yours down first?” he suggested.
I didn’t know whether to be happy we weren’t going to push
any weird small talk and instead were going to get it out of the way or to be
freaked that what he said intimated that he had items for the agenda.
I didn’t comment on this. I just nodded.
He swallowed the load of Indian food he’d put in his mouth
waiting for me to nod, reached out and nabbed his beer, took a swig, then set
it aside and turned back to me.
Then he started.
“Valenzuela and Bounty, Rosalie, they are not your problem.”
He said this unyielding, like he could just get away with
saying that and I’d let that go when we were talking about really bad
bad guys and a beef with a rival motorcycle club, not to mention vigilante
activities.
“Snap—”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “No. Your involvement in that
stopped in that warehouse. It’s over for you now.”
“But it’s not over for you,” I said quietly. “And we’re
right now finding our way to the us I think it’s clear both of us want, so if
you’re gonna be a part of my life, what’s part of
your life will be part of mine.”
“Is it clear?” he asked.
“Sorry?” I asked back.
“The thing that you said I really wanna
get into, Rosie, is that you’d started falling for me. Considering what put us
here, I felt it was priority to state you got nothing to worry about with
Valenzuela and Bounty. But now we’re there.”
“I’d rather clear things up about Valenzuela and Bounty,” I
replied.
“Baby, are you falling for me?”
It was a whisper, soft and sweet with snowy, blue eyes
intent on me, like the next words I spoke were the words he’d been waiting for
since he’d started breathing.
“You’re…you’re…” God! “You’re Snap.”
His tone was the same when he confirmed, “I am but that
doesn’t answer the question, Rosie.”
My tone matched his when I returned, “To me it does.”
His snowy blue eyes started flaming as he muttered, “Fuck,
now I’m not hungry and instead I wanna jump you
through the butter chicken.”