Just A Small Town Girl (9 page)

“It’s kind of embarrassing, but-”

“But?”

“They have this hot,” I drew it out, “Sexy,” I stopped again, making sure I had his full attention.

“Yes?” he asked, “They have a hot sexy what?”

I stood on tiptoe, pulling his head down so my lips were hovering just above his ear. In a barely audible whisper I said, “drummer.”

Fisher tilted his head back, howling with laughter. “Is that right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I laughed, “his name is Kyle.”

“You break my heart,” he leaned back toward me, his mouth close to mine.

“Somehow I think you’ll survive,” I smiled, pulling him closer.

The centimeters between our lips crackled, begging us to connect, sparking a flint that might start fireworks. I leaned in closer, touching my lips against his. Fisher was still for a second, frozen or relishing the sparks I didn’t know, then his hands tightened around my body and he began to kiss me back. The sparks ignited into a full flame as his lips caressed mine. His tongue ran along the seam of my lips and I didn’t waste time opening to him. His mouth was warm and electric on mine and then it was gone.

My eyes snapped open, instantly confused by what I was seeing. A neat split had formed in the corner of Fisher’s mouth where Puck had hit him. The two men were staring each other down.

“What the fuck?” Fisher clenched his jaw as he spoke, his fists balled in barely controlled anger.

“You know exactly what the fuck Fish,” Puck glared at me to underline the point before taking a step closer to Fisher, launching his fist into a messy blow Fisher easily dodged.

“Puck I’m going to kick your ass because you hit me,” he looked at me, “and because I don’t like the way you treat Piper.” Fisher easily hit Puck, making him stumble backwards. His movements were methodic as he landed a few more blows to Puck’s face. Puck reached out, trying to strike Fisher again. After landing one to Fisher’s stomach he threw himself off balance, making him vulnerable to Fisher’s fists. Puck fell backwards to the ground and Fisher leaned over him, his fists flying as he landed punch after punch to Puck’s face.

“Fisher!” I exclaimed when it became clear to me that Puck was no longer fighting back.

He continued to hit Puck’s prone form, probably not even able to hear me.

“Okay, Fish come on,” Kyle broke through the crowd formed around the two bodies on the floor and grabbed his friend under his arms like a child, “Feel better?”

“Yeah,” Fisher shrugged off Kyle’s touch, sweeping his hand across his lip to clear the blood, and walked through the crowd, heaving.

“Scared?” Kyle asked, noting my stricken face.

I shook my head, unsure of what my reaction was going to be. I didn’t like what I’d seen. It seemed so strange for Fisher to be out of control and for Puck to be so easily overpowered. It was funny really, Puck always used his strength around me, reminding me he could easily take control of me; Fisher never showed his strength, but it was always there, making me feel safe. When it came down to a fight Fisher’s protective strength had easily won.

Kyle threw his arm around my shoulders, leading me toward the table.

“Yeah slut give Kyle a turn,” I heard Puck grumble from the ground behind me.

Before I could turn all of the way around to glare at him Kyle was there, his hands fisting the front of Puck’s shirt.

“How stupid are you?” Kyle asked, tilting his head to the side as he stared into Puck’s bloody face, “First, Piper doesn’t need your shit,” he shook Puck’s limp body, “and second, if you ever even talk to her again you know Fish will come after you worse than he did tonight and I’ll be right there beside him.”

Kyle released his hold on Puck’s shirt, letting his head fall back to hit the floor with a sickening thud, before wrapping his arm around my shoulder once more and leading me back to our table.

Bailey stood next to Dustin, his arm wrapped around her comfortingly and Seph stood across from them, a satisfied look on her face.

“Same old Travis,” Seph laughed to herself, turning to me as she spoke, “and that is exactly why we all knew he couldn’t play perfect daddy forever.”

“Shut the fuck up Persephone,” Dustin sneered at her. I felt Kyle’s arm tighten around me protectively.

I chose to ignore her comments, “Where did he go?” I leaned close to Bailey’s ear to ask.

“He went to the car. I don’t know if he left, but he was supposed to drive you home, so he might still be around.”

“Thanks Bailey,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear, “thanks everyone for celebrating with me.” I gave each of the boys and Bailey a hug. I ignored Seph, not ready to forgive her comment yet, and made my way to the doors.

The cold hit me like a harsh smack, making me wrap my body in a hug before scanning the parking lot for Fisher. He was leaning against the cool metal of his SUV. I watched the way his body slouched and his head hug low, noting his need for a haircut as I stepped toward him.

“Hey,” I whispered, turning to lean against the vehicle next to him.

After a few seconds I felt him shift, “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, “I’m not like that you know. That-” he huffed out a breath and I watched it puff in front of his face, “that wasn’t me.”

I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his wrist, stopping his words.

“It’s fine. I understand. Puck’s a dick,” I squeezed softly before releasing his arm.

He caught my hand with his own and held it, rubbing his thumb across my knuckles. We stood there together, but worlds apart in our own minds. I wondered what he was thinking while a million other thoughts battled for attention in my mind. I wondered what Seph meant by ‘same old Travis’ and why Puck had acted so outrageously and why Kyle seemed to think Fisher was so protective of me.

“I don’t want you to get sick again,” I hadn’t noticed I was shivering until he opened the car door and helped me into the seat.

I watched his hands on the steering wheel while we drove in silence. The street lights flickered over his bloody knuckles, making him look dangerous. When he parked in front of our building I regretted remaining silent for the entire drive, it felt like I’d missed my chance to get some answers. I turned to study his face as he put the car in park and turned the key in the ignition. I willed myself to say something.

“What now?” seemed to be all that would come out.

“What do you mean?” he asked in the middle of opening his door, “We go back to our apartments and get on with our nights.”

Before I could comment he was out of the vehicle and pulling my door open. I followed him to our hall where he stopped at my door, gesturing for me to open it and go to bed before turning to open his own door.

I mumbled goodnight into the empty hallway as I closed my front door. I couldn’t make sense of his distance. He’d lost control and I understood how embarrassing that could be, but really he’d been defending himself. Sometime between pulling off my jeans and yanking the bottom of my tank top over the waistband of my flannel pajama bottoms, I got angry. I held that anger as I yanked on my pink fluffy socks and marched out of my apartment.

I only paused for a moment with my fist poised in the air, ready to knock, before reconsidering and throwing Fisher’s front door open. I stepped across the threshold, taking in the room. Only then did it occur to me that I’d never been to Fisher’s apartment before. The layout matched my apartment exactly, but I could only describe the décor as ‘bachelor pad with a twist.’ The walls housed five guitars hung with care and kept out of the way, but little else. There were a few street signs on one wall of the kitchen, but the walls were otherwise bare. He had a large sectional couch and an ovular coffee table. All of this was expected from any bachelor’s pad, but things were a little different. Scattered in with the things that screamed early twenties male were baby toys, a playpen, a high chair in the kitchen, parenting books, and baby gyms. Considering how committed Fisher was to parenting and his age everything in the room was expected. In fact, the only unexpected thing about the living room before me was Fisher’s absence.

I tentatively made my way down the hall, pausing to look into first, the bathroom then a neat baby blue nursery. I stopped outside the open door of the master bedroom to take in the sight of Fisher, his shirt removed, staring at the wall across from the four poster bed he sat at the foot of. I bravely stepped into the room, my fuzzy pink steps muffled by the carpet, and sat next to him, taking his hand between both of mine to assess the damage to his still bloody knuckles.

“What are you doing Piper?” he asked.

“Looking at your knuckles,” I answered, slipping his hand back to his lap and rising to make my way down the hall.

I returned with a wet washcloth and sat beside him, starting to dab at the clotted blood.

“You know what I meant. What are you doing here?” he let me take his other hand.

“I don’t really know,” I wiped the blood from his knuckles then took his chin between my fingers so I could wipe at the corner of his mouth, “You seemed like you might need to talk.”

“I don’t know Piper,” he batted my hand way and began to pace in front of me, “I used to be this guy,” he clenched and unclenched his fists, “this guy who made mistakes and did stupid shit like break into the school at night and get into fights and,” he raised his fisted hand into the air and dropped it.

“And got girls pregnant?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he slumped beside me again, “And all of that other stuff I could undo, but this, Riley, I couldn’t undo that,” he dug his hands into his hair, “and I don’t think Riley was a mistake. I never think that, but I need to be more careful,” he let out a big sigh and fell back onto the bed, making me bounce a little where I sat, “I guess tonight just reminded me that I can slip back into being that guy any time.”

“But you didn’t,” I turned to face him, sitting criss crossed and looking down at his closed eyes, “you were fighting yeah, but it was to defend yourself. If you had to protect Riley would you fight?”

I nudged him in the side when he was silent for too long.

“Yeah,” he reluctantly admitted.

“Okay, so why not defend yourself?”

“But I enjoyed it,” he groaned, looking up into my eyes.

“That’s because Puck is a dick,” I cried, throwing my hands into the air.

“And I couldn’t stop thinking about how he hurt you,” Fisher raised his hand to touch my cheek, cupping his hands around my chin and pulling my face down to his, “I’d fight to protect you too you know,” his lips touched mine.

I couldn’t help leaning into Fisher’s body, melding our chests together as his mouth consumed mine. I was amazed at the way his teeth nipped my lips tenderly before his tongue swept across to soothe the area. When Puck used his teeth it hurt, but Fisher’s kiss was pure affection and heat. I parted my lips, allowing his tongue to play with mine. Little shocks joined the electric current running through my body each time our tongues met. Somehow I shifted so my body lay completely flush with his on the bed. I was a breathless and disoriented when Fisher pulled away, only putting a few inches between our faces as he stared into my eyes.

“Don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry,” I murmured, eliciting a chuckle from him before he leaned forward, pressing out lips together once again.

I woke up alone in Fisher’s bed, surrounded by his smell. I stretched my arms above my head, remembering falling asleep in his arms after hours of talking and gentle kisses. He’d asked me to be his girlfriend while I was laying on his chest, being gently lulled to sleep by his heartbeat. When I agreed he told me he’d been looking forward to hearing me answer yes to that question since he knocked me over the day we met.

I could hear him talking to Riley in the kitchen. They were discussing breakfast in baby murmurs. I could smell the pancakes and eggs he’d made and kicked at the sheets tangled around my fuzzy pink socks, excited to see my boyfriend.

“Hey baby,” Fisher whispered, pressing a kiss to my lips when I stepped into the kitchen.

“Hey,” I yawned, sitting in a chair next to Riley and helping him gnaw on bits of scrambled egg. I loved that he called me baby even one day into our relationship.

This image of familial bliss, my beautifully shirtless boyfriend and his son both staring at my mussed hair first thing in the morning, was what I’d been fighting so desperately. As Fisher set a plate of fluffy pancakes and scrambled eggs in front of me I realized giving in to that battle may have been the best decision I’d made since leaving Sam.

“Piper!” Fisher yelled, crossing into the reception area and disturbing the two blue haired ladies waiting for Dr. Schultz.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, taking a frazzled Riley from his arms with one hand and brushing the long windswept locks off Fisher’s forehead with the other.

“Watch this,” the electric smile on his face was contagious. “Riley, who am I?” Fisher pointed at himself and ducked down, so his face was level with the little boy’s, “Who is this? Who am I?”

Riley scrunched up his face before smiling a huge, gummy, smile and babbling “dadadadadadadada.”

“That’s right!” Fisher beamed, pulling Riley from my arms and spinning him in a giggly circle, “we’re raising a genius!”