Chapter 31
How did I end up here?
My fingers clutch my dad’s buckle as I walk out of Molly Mae’s.
“Each piece here has a story,” she said. “I just wish they all came with them.”
She sees light in everything, unknowingly giving hope to items that only have darkness, and I wish I saw that way too.
I wish I felt like good came with the bad every time, but I don’t.
It would be nice if every lost or sold treasure came with a book.
A narration of its life so you could decide if you wanted the omens that came along with it.
Had that been the case, this piece of shit would be long gone.
Who would ever want to keep something that ruined a family, from a man who never cared about them in the first place?
I keep the buckle at my side, gliding my fingers over its bumpy finish, questioning over and over why I came back for something that only makes me feel anger.
Why would I want this reminder of him? Why would I quite literally pay for something I’ve been paying for my whole life?
Crossing the street, I see a garbage bin and consider ridding myself, and the world, of this buckle indefinitely. Tossing it into the bin where it belongs, just like my good for nothing dad.
A truck rumbles up to my side, stopping me from going through with my plan as I turn to look at the road.
“Well, ain’t it my lucky day,” Rhett says, leaning over and cranking down the passenger window.
“That makes one of us.” I spit the words out in anger, even though the emotions aren’t brought on by him. Pain prickles in my palm, and I glance down at the heavy piece of metal now causing pressure marks into my hand.
“Ouch, I thought we were past this.” Per his usual chipper self, he doesn’t sound hurt by my comment at all.
I walk over to the edge of the sidewalk and swing the creaky door open. “Sorry, bad day. I didn’t mean that about you.”
“No apologies necessary. Prince Charmin’ is here to save ya.” He chuckles, and I roll my eyes, but it does bring a smile to my lips. “Where to?”
I don’t have the answer for his question.
I don’t even remember why I ended up at Molly Mae’s or what compelled me to buy the stupid belt buckle in the first place.
And now that I have it, all I want to do is get rid of it.
My mind flurries with thoughts. None of which make me feel like answers.
So instead of responding to him, I ask a question of my own.
“Sawyer’s performance is tonight. Are you going? ”
“Can’t have one without the other.” He laughs.
I’ve probably never heard anything more true, but a laugh still rises from my chest. “That’s always been abundantly clear.”
“And yet all four of us are rarely together. Why is that?” A mischievous look plants itself on his face, but my bad mood only twists his bit of fun into something that pisses me off.
“I haven’t actually told Daisy we’ve been talking.” I admit, instantly regretting it.
Hurt resides in his eyes, his expression not hiding his dissatisfaction. And it makes me feel the urge to push him away.
He’s completely justified in wondering why I haven’t told my best friend about us.
I honestly want to, but I would hate to share to have it all to crumble later, especially when she’s already got so much to worry about of her own.
I feel defensive. Like an animal trapped in a corner and the only way out is deflection.
“I’ll tell her when I’m ready. I’d rather know this isn’t just a bit of casual fun.” This time my words come out a bit more harsh, like I truly believe we are just fucking around and nothing else. I don’t, but there’s no way I’m back-peddling now.
He opens his mouth to speak but closes it just the same.
Him not fighting me only makes me more mad, forcing a huff to escape my lungs.
“You can drop me off here.” Reaching for the handle, I barely wait for him to pull off back toward the sidewalk.
Guilt sparks in my chest. He didn’t do anything wrong, other than finding me spiraling over a hunk of metal.
“I think we should talk about this.” His words come out soft, and if I didn’t already feel bad enough, now I feel like the biggest asshole alive.
The issue is that though he wishes to fix everything, some things just don’t have a solution, only more problems. I don’t want to talk about my dad, and I can’t admit that without shedding light on it.
This is all something I don’t want to deal with right now. Maybe ever.
I gaze into his soft stare and just want to erase the last few minutes.
“Nothing to talk about,” I say, leaning across the cab.
I grab his face, pulling him in to kiss me and to shut his perfect mouth up.
I don’t want a conversation. I don’t want to talk to anyone.
I want to hide from my feelings, especially the ones I have and don’t understand with him.
Our tongues caress one another and I melt into his lips. I kiss him harder, considering whether or not I should have him be my distraction.
A clunk sounds within the truck, and we both look at the belt buckle that now lays on the floor. My eyes wander back to him, unsure of how to explain what he’s looking at. He reaches toward it, but my hand beats his there.
“What—” Confusion consumes him like he saw a ghost, and since I refuse to explain this, I decide to leave.
“See you later, Casanova.” I kiss him one last time before removing myself from his cab as fast as I can. Slamming the door and borderline running down the sidewalk, I turn the first chance I get. I was happy to let him distract me, but not if that distraction also means a conversation.
A walk that usually takes me about fifteen minutes is done in under five as I latch my front door behind me, placing my back upon it and sliding down to the floor where I rest my forehead on my knees.
That might possibly be the least smooth move I’ve ever made when trying to avoid something.
And given that Rhett seems to notice just about everything, it’s as if I’ve just placed a neon sign above my head pointing directly at something I want to pretend never happened.
I fish inside my bag, pulling the buckle out again to examine it. A hunk of metal not even strong enough to withstand gravel, once considered a trophy, now just worthless junk.
Removing myself from the floor, I head upstairs in search of something to wear tonight to Sawyer’s performance, tossing the buckle into the garbage the moment I reach my bathroom.
I wince as the weight of it hits the bottom of the bin.
One man’s treasure truly is another’s trash.
“Should have held on to it if it mattered to you.” Anger seeps through my lips. “I hope we never meet again.”
Silence sounds back at me, but somehow I feel better knowing that this buckle had its run, and by next week, it’ll be forever gone the moment the garbage truck drives away. Tossing myself on my bed, I look up at the plain white ceiling of my room.
A small cracking noise breaks my focus and I search around the room but see nothing out of place. Another crack sounds. I sit up, leaning on my forearms.
What is that?
The sound continues again and again. And this time, I catch its direction. Pebble after pebble hitting my window until I reach it and take a seat on my bench. A squeak resounds as my weight shifts forward to peer out onto the street. Sure enough, I spot Rhett and lean away just as quickly.
I race down my stairs, swinging open my front door before poking my head out. “Hey, Dipshit. What are you doing?”
“Tryin’ to get your attention.” His bright smile shines back at me.
“And you assumed I was in my bedroom?”
“First off, I didn’t know what room that was, but thanks for confirmin’ my suspicions.” He takes a few steps closer to my door. “Second off, it’s rude not to invite your guest in.”
“I said see you at the show, not in ten minutes at my house.”
He gasps, pretending he’s offended. Of course. Ever the performer that he is. I groan, giving into his antics with a smile, swinging the door open and waving him in.
“Ya can’t kiss people like that and not expect them at your door, Angel.
It’s just not how life works.” He looks around my living room before returning his gaze to me.
“Lucky for ya, I’d never hold it against ya.
” He winks, and, for whatever reason, his fake arrogance makes me want to kiss him even more.
“Now, since I’m a handyman and all, I better go check out that window.
Make sure it ain’t broken. And if I’m lucky, the home owner will have me check out her pipes too. ”
“Shut up,” I laugh.
“Just kiddin’...kinda.” He winks, advancing toward the stairs and I follow.
He enters my room like he’s been here a million times, doesn’t examine anything, and walks straight toward the window.
It’s like he’s truly only interested in checking for damage and not really just being clever about snooping through my house.
Looking the pane up and down, he turns back toward me, concern in his eyes.
“Just as I suspected.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Pacing toward him, I think of who the hell I’m going to call to get a new window and how much that will even cost.
“Nope, the window’s fine. The homeowner, however, is a total babe.
” He breaks eye contact with me to look over my room.
“Questionable taste, given the sparkly blow-up chair, extreme over use of pink, and, well, she’s not all over the Cowboy in her room yet.
But if this was Room Raiders, I’d still be interested,” He chuckles.
I push him. “I thought the window was actually broken, you ass.”
“Well, I can make it happen if ya want. Kinda seems silly, but I’m here to please.”
His words send a thrill of excitement through my body, desire igniting at the idea of him doing things just to appease me. Mostly because I could think of many now that he’s here in my room. But I’m not going to give in so quickly. He’s always the one teasing, now it’s my turn.
“I absolutely do not want that,” I scoff, “but since you’re here, my bed seems to have a weird squeak. Can you fix that?”
A devilish grin finds its way to his lips. "You’ll have to show me.”
Shoving past him, I climb onto my bed and bounce a little. “Hmm,” I hum. “So weird, maybe you should try.” He slips off his shirt and I smile. “Pretty sure the bed will squeak with your shirt on.”
“It’s the uniform, Angel. I don’t make the rules I just enforce ‘em.”
Every square inch of his body is toned, like a piece of art sculpted to perfection. “Remind me to call your boss later and thank him.”
“No need.” I lean back as he crawls onto my bed, the weight of his body forcing my mattress to sink around me.
His familiar musky cedarwood scent warms my senses.
“She’s right in front of me.” He slides my tank top upward and peppers warm, wet kisses along my abdomen.
Taking his time to explore my body with his mouth the same way I did with my eyes seconds ago.
As our mouths meet, he deepens the kiss, his hips softly grinding on mine before trailing back down my body.
I can feel my heart race with every touch, booming so fast it feels like it might beat out of my chest. Every caress, every nip, causing my skin to pebble and my nipples to harden.
My anticipation grows as he reaches the hem of my shorts, inching them down before ultimately tossing them to the floor.
His calloused hands work their way back up my calves, then my thighs. He spreads me open, gliding his palms up the side of my body before finding their place on my chest. He slides them both under my bra, teasing my nipples with his thumbs.
“There isn’t an inch of ya I don’t want to taste,” he whispers as his lips settle on my inner thigh. The warmth of his tongue meets my skin, my nipples hardening as he strokes them. “And lucky for me,” he murmurs, pulling away with every kiss. “I’ve got some time.”
His tongue finds its way to my clit and I gasp.
Already wet with desire for him, his mouth caresses my pussy, the soft, even pressure gliding back and forth through my slit.
A shiver shudders through me as I fight back a moan.
I should have known he’d be good at this too.
With each pass, he becomes more and more intent on bringing me to my peak.
My legs tremble as he sucks, my fingers lacing themselves within his soft dirty blond hair.
One of his hands trails down my body until his large fingers circle my entrance.
I moan, imploring him to give me more as the heat pooling in my stomach rises, burning hotter with each second.
His tongue presses harder as he stretches me over his large fingers, my hips lifting as if begging him to force his way deeper inside me.
And though I don’t say a word, it’s like he understands exactly what I want.
His pace quickens, alternating the way he moves his fingers inside me.
He pulls away from me just far enough to speak, rubbing his thumb over my clit so I don’t miss his absence.
“Oh, you’re a naughty girl, Angel. You’re so wet for me.
" He returns his lips back to my apex, and I grind on his face as he laps at my desire. He lets out a muted groan, hungry as he claims me. Each movement pushes me closer and closer to ecstasy. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me.”
His praise excites me in ways I’ve never felt before. “Oh my God,” I moan, biting back screams that linger in my chest as he sweeps his tongue in all the right ways. Devouring me like I’m his favorite dessert.
He thrusts his large fingers, deeper, harder, curling them until he hits a spot I can’t ignore. He bites my clit, sucking it within his warm, wet lips. “Yes. Oh my fucking God, yes.” I can’t think straight, high on his every move he makes as I crumble beneath his touch.
So this is what it’s like to be worshiped.