False Start (Love and Skate) (12 page)

I continued until Victory made a tiny burp sound and Hayes gave me permission to continue feeding her. After two more ounces they were both done—and soon afterwards, Falcon and Hayes changed them. I was not touching that task with a ten foot pole.

“Damn, we have the best babysitters ever.” Reed emerged from the bedroom and sat on the recliner.

“We really do, Poppy.” He kissed her long enough for me to turn my head.

Hayes looked at the time, “We really have to go
now. I have a bout tonight. And without Reed and Storey, I guess I’ll actually get some rink time in. I really suck next to Serial Keela and American Horror Storey.”

“
Nah, it’ll do you good. You need practice, that’s all.” Reed assured.

“Thank you. They are really beautiful. I know you have plenty of help, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

Falcon and Reed thanked her and told her to visit anytime.

“Can I take you to the bout or is there some female empowerment in driving yourself to a bout?”

I tried to joke with her.

“Ha ha ha. If you’re not sick of me yet, yeah, I’d love for you to drive me.”

“I don’t see that happening in the near future.”

“Well, come in. I’ve got to change and grab my bag.”

“Okay.” I parked the truck and we went inside. I sat on t
he edge of her couch as she fiddled through her mail.

“See this?” She pointed to an envelope with AARP across the top.

I nodded, “This is my Dad trying to be funny. He signs me up for Hover Round wheelchairs and AARP. Sometimes he’ll sign me up for pregnancy magazines or nursing home flyers. Or once he sent me a gift card in a huge box with tons of those horrible packing peanuts—like the size of a TV. It took me forever to find it. He’s always mailing me stuff. He thinks email is the beginning of the end of social society. Whatever you do, don’t get him started on Facebook.” She smiled, obviously caring for her dad.

I took note of how the mail made her light up.

“We have about an hour before I really have to be there. Are you hungry? We ate a pretty early lunch.”

“Yeah, I am
kinda hungry. Do you want to go somewhere?”

She dotted her finger on her lips, “Well, I make a mean frozen pizza. Is that okay?”

“Perfect.”

She put in the pizza and opened the refrigerator scanning the contents. Her biting her lip earlier in the day had set something off in me and now that we were alone, it was damned near unquenchable. I stalked to the kitchen and leaned against the counter, waiting for her to turn.

“What do you want to drink? I’ve got lemonade, sweet tea, water and there’s a coke in here somewhere.”

“It doesn’t matter.” My proximity startled her, her body jolting as I began to speak. She turned, smiling, “You scared me. I didn’t know you were so close.”

I tried to gulp down the lump in my throat.

“Not as close as I’d like.”

She shut the fridge and lessened the distance between us, but
somehow she was still too far. “Better?” She spoke in a breathless tone, I hoped it was for the same reason as I was nearly gasping for air.

“Better, but not really what I had in mind.”

“So tell me how close you want me to be.”

“Close enough to kiss you.”

She reached out and knotted her fingers together behind my head. Her wild hair and those breath-seizing blue eyes cemented me in place. I couldn’t believe she was so near after watching her from afar for so long. I curled one particularly unruly strand behind her ear—damn, even her ears were perfect. Our breaths mingled together, and as I closed in, she gasped softly. Our lips touched once, hers silken and firm at the same time. She tasted exactly like she smelled, like cake—when you’ve been starving for cake. I wanted to press further, deepen what we’d already started. And before I knew it, my hands were on her hips, gripping them, pulling her against me so that neither breath nor fear could weave its way between us. I kissed her with a fury I didn’t know I possessed, and she granted me entrance to her vanilla and candy mouth. I pushed all warmth I owned into that kiss, loving her with my mouth the best I knew how. I could’ve kissed her forever. But then she pressed her hands against my chest and let out a half sigh, half giggle.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about needing my lips later.” She smiled bashfully and moved her face to hide on my bicep.

“No, I wasn’t. Though that was more than I’d expected.”

She laughed, “You expected me to be an awful kisser?”

“No,” I ran a hand through her hair, “I expected me to miss or sneeze in your face or something.”

She grew serious, “Been there.”

“Are you talking about guys after I just kissed the hell out of you?”

She slapped her hands over her face, “Sorry.”

I pulled them down and kissed each fingertip, “I was just kidding.”

“You were right. You are better one on one.
Wanna tell me why?”

“I spent a lot of time by myself or just with my dad while my mom worked. I didn’t get a lot of practice in group situations. At school I just
kinda stayed quiet. It was in everyone’s best interest, trust me.”

Her eyebrows pulsed downward once, “You were angry.”

She was very perceptive. My protective barrier bounced against her advance.

I can’t do this.

“Yes. I was angry, still am.”

“Anger doesn’t suit you.”

Remorse bubbled through me. My tongue had betrayed me. I sidestepped away from her, “And pity doesn’t suit you. Look, on second thought, maybe I should get home and see you later at the bout.”

“I don’t pity you. But that’s fine. Run away.”

“I’m walking, not running,” I said, already making my way to the door.

“The only difference is speed,” I heard her whisper to the air, since she probably didn’t think I was listening.

I walked out, slamming the door behind me. I’d ruined it just like I knew I would. But I couldn’t stand that look in her eyes. Plenty of people had it way worse than I did. Like my mom. She’d had it worst of all. And look what it taught me. It taught me, apparently, to drop all my qualms about falling in love at the first girl who’d let me kiss her in a good while. I was weak. I had to be stronger. Otherwise either she or I would end up used, abused or neglected, squatting in a corner crying after one of us ripped the other one’s heart out. It was inevitable.

That’s how she’d been, alone in marriage, enthralled in love but love was never enthralled in her.

And my father couldn’t even handle himself.

I hated him.

I hated who he’d made me to be.

I hated the deterioration he brought my mom.

And I wouldn’t bring it to Hayes.

I wouldn’t let her deteriorate me.

I gunned my truck all the way to my apartment and then proceeded to slam and curse the walls like a bull in a room full of china dolls.

Sometimes there was no separating me from my dad. Who he was, even though it wasn’t his fault, had somehow become who I was. It would almost be easier if the shrinks would just tell me I was a
schizo. That way I’d at least have an excuse. But no…I was this undiagnosed mad man, determined to keep everyone at arm’s length.

Hayes would probably never speak to me again.

My lips were already quaking in need for more of her.

I’m in trouble.

Hayes

Who walks out on pizza? An
assmunch, that’s who!

As he walked out and slammed my door I realized I had two choices. Number one: Let him go. Ignore him the next time I saw him. Live through the wretched silence. Wait until he goes away. And then there was choice number two: Get in his face and let him know that his piss fit wasn’t enough to drive me away. That I had no pity for him. I didn’t do pity. I’d experienced enough of it myself to know how humiliating it was. Maybe that’s what he needed—someone who wasn’t going to let him force them out. He’d said that. He’d said there was someone who burrowed under the skin, someone he could trust.

I needed the help of my derby wife.

Getting on my phone, I climbed the stairs, “Nellie? It’s Hayes. I know it’s out of your way, but can you pick me up for the bout?”

She answered affirmatively with a promise, making me promise to tell her what was up.

“I will tell you everything.”

Half an hour later, I was spilling my guts to a car filled with Nellie, Owen and their son, Cyrus. She assured me it would all be kept hush hush but Owen had a smirk on his face that I just didn’t trust.

“He’s such an ass.”

Owen chuckled loudly, “It runs in the family.”

She slapped him on the shoulder, “He’s not technically related, Owen.”

“I know, we’ll call it environmental sculpting. He acts like us because he’s been around us so long.”

Nellie rolled her eyes at him.

“So what’s your plan? What if he’s not even there?”

“If he’s not there, I will go to his apartment. Someone has to drop me there or something. But he’s not getting away with that bullshit attempt.”

Nellie and Owen exchanged a look and then Owen shook his head, “Yep. She’s gonna fit right in.”

We got to the rink and I changed into my outfit. I was too pissed to do it earlier. The other team from Lafayette was already there. They were a great team, really friendly—all about the derby sisterhood. Again Nellie volunteered me and herself to participate in the mock bout. I could see Maddox and Owen but Asshole was still MIA. His name had been changed to Asshole in my mind even though I didn’t really think he was an Asshole. Plus, it was only temporary—maybe.

“I want you out there as Jammer. You need the practice.”

I nearly clocked her, “You’re insane. I’m not a speed skater. I’m barely even considered a skater.”

“Bullshit. You’re a good skater. I’ve seen you.”

“No.”

She cocked an eyebrow and I knew I was in trouble, “Fine. I’m not
gonna help you with Mr. Sexy Rexy anymore.”

“I don’t need your help.”

I realized we were both standing there in front of the team, battling it out.

“Get on the damned line before I lay you out right here in front of your
crushy wushy.”

“What’s a
crushy wushy?”

“Him.”

She turned me by my shoulders and pointed out in the crowd to Rex whose face was suddenly void of color.

“Come on, don’t make me embarrass myself.”

“What’s more embarrassing, skating Jammer or me announcing on the mic about you and Rex’s tryst?”

At that point we weren’t even serious anymore, both of us were smiling, but we were also partly putting on a show.

I got in her face, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would in a heartbeat.”

“Fine, you win.”

“Please, I always win.”

Before I knew it, I was lined up with the other Jammer from the other team waiting for the second whistle. I could see Nixon skating around the inside making sure everyone was in line. I didn’t want to pull a False Start—skating before the second whistle was blown, going out before I was supposed to.

I heard the whistle in my head and skated out as hard as my legs and feet would take me.
I rounded the corners perfectly but as I came behind the pack of blockers, I got stuck. But soon some of my own team helped let me through and I saw Nixon keeping time with me, his arms indicated that somehow I was the lead Jammer. But then the other Jammer from the other team was right next to me and she was on the verge of breaking through the pack again. I couldn’t let her score, so I motioned, arms head to hips, putting a stop to the jam and the other team’s points.

“You did great,” Nellie coddled when I got to the bench.

“I didn’t score.”

“But guess what?”

“What?”

“
Neither did they.”

She skated out and made my former run look like a joke. She continued to make me Jammer over and over until by the end of the night my legs were wobbly and I had a bruise the size of Bayou
Manchac getting angrier by the second. But it was the most fun I’d had skating in a while.

“Look, he left out early. He’s such a chicken.”

I looked over to find Owen and Cyrus were the only ones left of the Black family.

“Drop me off?”

“Do I get to watch?”

“No.”

“I guess we still will drop you off then. You’re no fun.”

I couldn’t even figure out why I was so invested in this guy. But I was. And it went way beyond the fact that we’d had more than one date. He felt so kindred to me. Like there was something deep inside of him that connected with something deep inside of me.

I just had to find out what it was.

Nellie dropped me off with a ‘Kick his ass, Hayes.” I climbed the stairs, noting his truck was parked in the alleyway. I was physically whipped and starving. But a nudge in my gut told me that what I was about to do would be worth it.

I knocked on his door and waited. I didn’t hear anything inside, but I knocked again just for good measure. Then I heard footsteps and the door opened just an inch or so.

“Hayes?”

“Oh, so you can speak.”

His hair was markedly wet and dripping down his face. He must’ve been in the shower.

“Yeah, um, I was kinda in the shower.”

“No shit. I’m coming in, so you can either let me in now or I can bang on the door all night with my skates. Your choice.”

He barely contained his smile and then opened the door.

“Can I finish my shower?”

“Be my guest.”

His apartment was sparse, a typical bachelor pad. I pretended to look towards his kitchen area while he walked back into the bathroom, but there was a mirror above the sink that reflected the one in the bathroom and it gave me the perfect shot of him walking into the bathroom, towel only
. I could see something shiny glinting on his shoulder blades, but I couldn’t tell what they were. I’d have to investigate it later—if he let me.

He had a simple double bed with white sheets neatly tucked and puckered around the mattress and gray comforter. His couch was a leather futon, typical of a guy, I supposed. But I saw no pictures, of him or family. There was nothing on the walls at all except near the front door, a school calendar, telling him the holidays and dates for Christmas break.

He spent little time in the bathroom but came back out, still with a towel on.

Maybe he intends to apologize to me like that.

I’d forgive him anything if he did.

“I wasn’t expecting company. I forgot to grab my clothes, sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

He blushed. I’d never made a guy blush. I didn’t’ even k
now it was possible until then. Ducking back into the bathroom I heard the sink come on. I stared out of his miniscule window which overlooked the alley and some diner.

“Why are you here,” his baritone voice dragged me back from my thoughts and into the room.

“I’m just here to make you understand.”

“And what exactly do I need to understand?”

“That your little temper tantrum isn’t going to make me run.”

“You should. You should run. I’m not worth the trouble.”

“And what if I said I’d been told the same thing once.”

I still hadn’t faced him. I was basically having a conversation with his very dusty eggshell shaded mini blinds.

“Who would ever tell you that? You’re damned near perfect.”

“Hazel. My own sister told me once that all the trouble my parents were going through to make my life better was a waste of time. And I’m not perfect—my scars are deep and shallow at the same time.”

“You’d have to make concessions to be with me, that’s not fair to you.”

“So would you.”

“It would be worth it on my end.”

Now he was really pissing me off. So I turned my fury around with my body to meet him head on.
  “And it would on my end too.”

He sat on the single man’s couch and with elbows propped on his knees he angrily knotted his fingers in the longer hair on the top of his head. But I wouldn’t go to him—yet.

“My mom died loving someone who broke her heart every day.”

I’d broken him already and while I thought it would be a victory—it felt like the doomiest of defeats.

“Your dad didn’t love her?”

“When he was lucid, yes. When he wasn’t, no. He spent more than ninety percent of his days in the non-lucid part. It wasn’t his fault. I know that. He couldn’t help his illness. But it ran her into the ground. The cancer killed her body, but taking care of him smashed her heart every single day.”

My legs just couldn’t hold me up anymore, not from the confessions but from sheer exhaustion. I sat on the edge of his bed and mulled the whole thing over in my head. His childhood couldn’t have been easy. I didn’t even know what kind of illness his father had, but caring for a mentally unstable parent couldn’t have been a breeze. That must’ve been why he was so isolated and, in his own words, had a skeleton social skills set. Now wonder he was so skittish all the time.

But he had no idea how stubborn I was about to become.

“So you have the same thing, whatever your dad had?”

He jerked up and swiftly turned his head my way, “No. Am I that unbalanced?”

I shrugged, “You are a little hot and cold. Let’s face the facts. We were fine at the restaurant. Then you froze up after talking to Vera. Then you gave me the best kiss of my life and stormed out like a toddler on crack. But that wasn’t really the point.”

It was an oddity, feeling as if we were having a self-exposing breakthrough but feeling so physically lonely at the same time. I could remember having these conversations with my parents who instinctively held me while we talked it through. But this man, one that I craved to hold me, had confined himself away from me.

“Do you have a point?” He sounded like a tempestuous child when he tried to be angry.

“I do. If you’ve not been diagnosed with anything like your father had, then you’re just making a choice to be angry and all around
broodified.”

“That’s not a word.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’ve never had a reason to make that choice before.”

I threw myself back on the bed and groaned. I just wanted to flick him in the forehead, snapping him out of his funk. I startled, feeling the bed depress next to me. I turned my head to see him kneeled on the floor, face down on the bed.

“
I suck at happy.”

I laughed, making us both bounce on the bed, “Well then, you’ve picked the right girl. I’m a pro at happy, even when I’m not actually happy.
I make angry cower in the corner and cry like a girl.”

He looked up at me, “Tell me what to be happy about right now.”

“Are you serious? You’ve got a hot chick in your bed. And…she’s a roller derby diva. Come on.”

And then he laughed.

“You did great tonight.”

“I did not. But I loved it. Although…now I’m starving and my legs feel like they’ve been put through a clothes wringer. I missed the team after party
and pizza to go see some guy.”

“Lucky guy. He didn’t even feed you?”

“Not yet. I was planning on making him grovel with gifts of food.”

He walked his fingers across the bed and with the pad of his thumb he traced the outline of my lips. A shiver broke through me, revealing raised
goosebumps along my arms.

“
Nevermind, he’s forgiven,” I whispered, his thumb still on my top lip.

He chuckled, “He doesn’t feel forgiven. Let’s go get you some food.”

“And then you have to take me back home.”

He nodded, got up and offered me his hand. I stood in front of him, our chests touching, his vibrant brown eyes bore down on me
. “The next time you run out on me like that you’re on your own. I only chase once,” I breathed to him, trying to hold on to one last sliver of self-preservation.

“I think you got under the skin tonight, Angel.
”