When You're Ready (7 page)

“How about you?” she asked, knocking me back to reality. “What do you do?”

“I’m a tech nerd.” Nola cocked an eyebrow and turned her head to the side like she was sizing me up. “What? I don’t look like a computer geek to you?” I asked, grinning. I know that I didn’t. People who don’t know me are more likely to think I steal cars or deal drugs than sit in front of my computer for hours writing code.

She hunched her shoulders, and took another bite of her sandwich. “Well…no, not really.”

“What does it look like I do?”

“I dunno. Act or model or work on cars,” she said. “Isn’t that what everybody does in L.A.?”

I leaned back and laughed. “You got one out of three.”

“Which one?”

“Cars. I love classic cars,” I said, thinking of my ’66 Mustang, and the Chevy Impala I’d been restoring for the past few months. I took her comments about Angelenos and turned them around. “So, how about you? Since you’re in L.A. are you trying to be an actress or model?”

Nola scrunched up her face. “God, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I may have moved here, but I’m not trying to be famous like everyone else. I just want to finish school and get a good job like normal people.”

I had a million questions for Nola about her goals, her dreams, what she was most afraid of, and what she was like as a kid, but I didn’t want to sound like I was interrogating her. Although I’d slept with
a lot
of women, I never kept one around long enough to really get to know her. I wanted to find out every single thing about Nola, but I knew I had to take it slow.

I bobbed my head and continued making small talk. “So where
are
you from?”

“All over,” she said just above a whisper.

“Army brat?”

She shook her head. “No, crazy parents.”

My breath caught in my chest. I hoped Nola’s childhood was nothing like mine; my parents were fucking horrible. A small smile crossed her lips that made me relax a little.

“We moved a lot when I was a kid. My dad was a musician and my mom and I tagged along with him on the road. When he died…” Nola’s voice trailed off and her eyes went wet again. I wanted to pull her into a hug but didn’t want to freak her out. “After my dad died, I thought we’d settle down, but my mom kept moving from place to place like she was on the run from his memory.”

Shit, I’d done it again. I’d fucked up and made her think of something painful. “Nola, I’m—“

“It’s cool, Scout.” She smiled but the feeling never reached her eyes. “This is actually the longest I’ve lived in one city.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I’ve been here for three years.”

“And you’re not sick of it yet?” I joked.

“No, it’s by far the nicest place I’ve lived. Well, except Jamaica.”

“Wow, you lived in Jamaica?” My mind was blown. Nola wasn’t the naive girl I thought she was. Still, despite losing her father and having to move around countless times she wasn’t jaded or bitter either. I’d grown up in Pacoima my whole life, my piece-of-shit parents were alive, and I wasn’t as open or as kind as Nola.

“Yeah, my dad had a place in Saint Ann’s Parish and I’d spend all day running around trying to catch lizards or hanging out with my mom at the beach.”

“That sounds amazing, Nola. Maybe you can show me around one day.”

Her face fell.

Shit
, I’d struck another nerve.

“I haven’t been back since I was 10. After my dad died my mother got rid of the house,” Nola shook her head. “Too many bad memories, I guess. My mom is…an interesting woman. She used to be so happy and carefree and crazy, but in a good way. After my dad died, her craziness just got out of hand.” She frowned like she was looking at something bad. “We’ve moved all over the U.S. because my mom was just so restless, but we never went back to Jamaica.” Nola’s voice cracked and I thought she was going to cry, but she managed to hold it in. “My father is buried there. And I know it sounds nuts, but I’ve always wanted to visit his grave and say my goodbyes. I was so young and in shock when he died that I didn’t know how to deal with it. One day he was here, and the next,” she snapped her fingers, “he was gone. I’ve always felt like I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

I reached out and grabbed her hand and ran my thumb across the top of her skin; and to my surprise, she didn’t pull away.

“One day I’m going to go back,” she said. “I still have family there, but it’s hard to keep in touch when you have to move every year, you know? But one day…” Her voice trailed off and she was quiet for a long time. My heart banged around in my chest. I longed to wrap Nola in my arms and tell her I’d take her to Jamaica so she could say goodbye to her dad. The look on her face made me want to fix everything that had gone wrong in her life.

“Anyway,” she said wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm. “Sorry for being such a girl.”

“Shhhh. You have nothing to apologize for, Nola. Thank you for sharing this with me. I know how difficult it can be to talk about the not-so-good parts of our lives, so I’m honored. Seriously.”

She smiled at me, and my heart felt like it doubled in size.
Shit
. If she could make me feel this good so quickly, I wondered where we could possibly go from here. At this rate, I’d be confessing my undying love for her in less than a week. I needed to slow this shit down before I messed it up. If I freaked her out and she ran away I knew I would go chasing after her.

“I feel like I’ve been talking about myself this whole time. It’s your turn to over-share, Scout,” Nola said, chuckling.

I wished I could pour my heart out, but I didn’t want to drive her away. Mine wasn’t a story of a dead father and a grief-stricken mother. No, my story included two junkie parents and a whole lot of abuse, fights, and getting into trouble.

If I got Nola to fall for me before I told her all of the sordid details of my life she might not run screaming in the other direction. I know it probably wasn’t fair holding out on her, but I couldn’t take the risk. If I told her my life story now, Nola would probably think I was damaged goods, and honestly, she’d be right.

“Okay, but first I’m going to read this essay,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t notice I was dodging her question. I pulled the paper out of my back pocket and she tried to snatch it out of my hands again.

“Please don’t!”

“Oh come on, I’m sure it’s brilliant.” I flipped open the first page and read a few lines out loud before pausing. “You wrote this?

She cast her eyes downward and pulled a hand through her hair. “Unfortunately.”

“
Unfortunately
?” I looked at her like she was crazy. “This is great! I don’t even know what half these words mean,” I laughed and pointed to the page. “Like this, what the heck is Intersectionality? And this, what cisgender privilege?”

“They’re both terms you hear a lot in academic discourse on feminism,” she said like it was common knowledge.

Holy shit
; Nola was a brainiac.  My face stretched into a wide grin, and I wondered how the hell I hit the amazing girl lotto—fucking gorgeous
and
smart?

“So, you’re some kind of genius?”

“Not hardly,” she said, her eyes back on the ground.

“Seriously, baby, this reads like it’s straight out of a textbook. You have a gift.”

“Tell that to my professor,” Nola grumbled. “She hates me.”

My eyes narrowed; how was that even possible?

“I don’t believe that. How can she hate you?”

“To be fair, she seems to hate everyone. But she totally hates me more. I worked so hard on this essay and she gave me a D+” Nola threw up her hands.

I scrubbed my face. It had been a long time since I’d been in a classroom, but I knew getting a D+ wasn’t the end of the world.

“That’s passing right?”

Nola shot me a glare that made me reconsider my question. “
Technically
, it’s passing. But I need to get a B in her class.” Her hands massaged her temples. “If I don’t get a B in the class I will lose my partial scholarship, and if I lose my partial scholarship I won’t be able to pay for school.” She stared at me. “If I can’t pay for school I won’t graduate, and if I don’t graduate I’m screwed.”

I felt my face heat up. Anything or anyone who stood in the way of Nola’s happiness was now my sworn enemy, and this professor was quickly moving to the top of the list.

The words, “I will give you the money,” were itching to jump off my tongue, but I swallowed them back. I would totally pay Nola’s tuition, and if I could do it without her getting wind of it, I’d handle it in a heartbeat. I couldn’t let on just yet, but the seeds had already been planted. In a matter of minutes I had a list of things I wanted to do for Nola—buy her a car, pay her tuition, take her to Jamaica, make her fall in love with me—I just needed to convince her to see things my way.

“You know how I know she hates me?” Nola said, dragging me out of my thoughts. “I asked her if there was any way I could revise my paper to bring up my grade and she told me to meet her tomorrow at five.”

“I don’t understand, isn’t that’s a good thing?” I asked, confused.

“It would be if I didn’t have to work at six.”

“Why can’t you just meet her earlier?”

“I asked, but she said, and I quote, ‘I don’t have time for your whims.’” Nola rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure how work can be considered a whim, especially when I need to do it to survive, but maybe it is in her world.”

She shook her head, then picked up a strawberry and bit it in half, running her tongue along her bottom lip to lick up the juice.
Damn
. I felt myself swell at the sight of her pink tongue running over her mouth. She didn’t even seem to know how sexy she was, but it was turning me the fuck on.

I cleared my throat and tried to think of anything that would stop my dick from getting any bigger—basketball stats, my company’s latest projects, sweaty MMA fighters. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to be working.

“So…you can’t do both?” I stammered.

“I can, but not on the bus. If I can keep our conversation to about 20 minutes, I may be able to get to work on time if I call an Uber driver or something.”

“Absolutely not,” I grumbled under my breath.

“What?” Nola asked.

I didn’t realize she could hear me, and I tried to play off the possessiveness building in my chest. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “I’ll give you a ride.”

“What?” Nola’s eyes went wide, and I suppressed a smile. I hoped she’d give me the same magnificent look when I entered her for the first time.

“Scout, you don’t have to give me a ride. I’m sure you have other things to do. I can just call Uber.”

“That’s not safe, Nola. Just the other day I read about some girl getting kidnapped by a driver. I would feel awful if something happened to you when I could have taken you instead.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me, Scout. Besides, I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“You’re a lot of things, girl, but trouble isn’t one of them.” I smiled and Nola’s cheeks flushed pink.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Meet me at the Bruin bear at five-thirty.”

“I’ll be there at five.”

“Scout—“

“Just in case,” I said, happy Nola was letting me do something nice for her. I wasn’t about to let her down.

7
Nola

“I had a really great time, Scout. Thanks for meeting me.” We’d spent hours walking around the Getty, eating lunch, and talking. I’m not sure how the day could have been any more perfect, but I really didn’t want it to end. As we stood in front of the elevators that would take Scout down to the parking garage, I felt like Cinderella getting ready to leave Prince Charming at the ball.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, looking up into his big brown eyes.

“How are you getting home?”

I tapped my chin like I was seriously considering his question, and then I snapped my fingers in mock surprise. “I know, on the bus!”

I saw his jaw tighten and face flash into a small grimace. “Nah, I’ll take you.”

“Scout, you’re already giving me a ride to work tomorrow. You don’t have to take me home today, that’s too much.”

I desperately wanted to spend more time with him, but I wasn’t about to become one of those women who depended on a guy the moment one showed up in her life. I’d been taking the bus around L.A. for three years before I met Scout, and I had no intentions of stopping now.

“But it’s almost dark,” he said, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

A shiver ran down my spine from Scout’s gentle touch, and I had to stop myself stepping into him and kissing his neck.

“And? I take the bus at night all the time, Scout. Especially in the fall.”

“I know, and I don’t think that’s a good idea either. It’s not safe.”

The elevator dinged and Scout stepped inside. “C’mon Nola, let me take you home.” His eyes were soft and concern was woven into his face. I almost stepped inside, but I shook my head and waved.