Patch Up (14 page)

My parents exchange a look, too, but I can’t decipher it. I mumble something like “fucking timing” and open the door so violently that it crashes against the wall, making my mother jump and grip my father’s arm.

Duke looks at me with a frown, and then at Kate and finally at my parents behind her. His mouth falls open and he runs a hand through his hair to try to smooth it down probably, but in vain. I look back at my parents and my mother’s face relaxes, her eyes going to and from Duke and me and understanding brightens her eyes. She gazes at him from top to bottom twice and an almost imperceptible blush appears on her face. No doubt she finds him good looking.

My father is not interested in how he looks. He immediately knows who Duke is—and probably thinks he’s my boyfriend—and he doesn’t look happy to see him. Back perfectly straight, strong shoulders tense, and a hard look on his face; he uses his military stance to intimidate Duke.

Duke finally waves at my parents and smiles his easy smile that gets to everybody; even my mother seems affected by it. He doesn’t seem the least bit frightened by the behavior of my father.

“You must be Skye’s parents. I’m Duke,” he says, extending his hand. His arm brushes against mine when I don’t move to let him come into the already overcrowded room.

“I’m Michael Walker and this is my wife, Tessa,” Dad answers and shakes his hand with more force than necessary. Luckily, Duke doesn’t flinch. Instead, he returns the handshake with the same amount of pressure by the look of the tensed muscles in his arm.

My mother also shakes his hand, but more gently. She’s all smile and sweetness, nudging my shoulder not very discreetly. Kate’s laughter behind me confirms it. Duke flashes me a smile and he crosses his arms over his broad chest, mirroring the posture of my father.

Duke is taller and more muscled than my dad, but somehow the hard look on my father’s face makes him more frightening than Duke is. My palms are all sweaty and it’s hard to swallow past the lump in my throat.

“Who wants a coffee?” I almost yell, my breathy voice all raspy from the nerves.

“I can’t,” Kate declines with a wave toward her bed where the contents of her bag have escaped. “I have tons of work to do for my classes.”

“Can’t it wait a little?” I ask between gritted teeth, barely holding onto my sanity because of the tension emanating from my father.

“It can’t, but I’m sure Duke is free to go with you and your parents,” she replies with a singing voice.

I give her a menacing glare but she just laughs at me. Grabbing my leather jacket and scarf, I put them on. It’s useless to put it off any longer and I need to get out of this little space. My father wanted to meet Duke, so I guess we can’t escape it.

“Our place?” Duke asks me with amusement in his eyes. He’s enjoying seeing me in this predicament and loves to make ridiculous innuendos to fuel my father’s belief that we’re an item or something.

“Lead the way,” I mumble after I wave at Kate, who is now sprawled on her bed, her smile hidden behind a heavy textbook from her law class.

The four of us walk down the hallway toward the elevator which is already there, letting a flow of people out. Two guys nod at Duke and he nods back. We all cram inside and Duke pushes the ground floor button.

“So where are we going?” my mother asks, fidgeting with her little black bag. She doesn’t like the tense atmosphere either.

“It’s a place where we often grab a coffee,” I reply with a dismissive voice, feeling a little out of my comfort zone.

Duke puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes softly. I don’t recoil away from him, a first since the event at the laundry. “It’s close to the Psychology building. Since I’m in Skye’s class as a TA, we try to grab a coffee there before or after class,” he explains, diffusing the innuendo of earlier.

In the coffee house it’s not as noisy as usual, which is good. I already feel a headache coming and noise is not the best medicine for a headache. We all walk to a table with four chairs.

“Mr. and Mrs. Walker, what can I get you?”

“Black coffee, for me,” Dad answers without even looking at him while he takes off his black jacket.

“And a mocha for me, please,” my mother answers with a smile while she puts her dark green jacket on her chair.

Duke leaves us without asking me what I want. He knows I always drink a tall black coffee without any sugar or cream in it. I blush under the scrutiny of both my parents while Duke is waiting for his turn to place our order.

“So he knows what you’re drinking,” Dad states like it’s a criminal offense.

I’m getting fed up of all this. I’m even angrier when I think about all the times Dad has laughed with Sean when just an hour before he was punching me. I sit up straighter and my mother’s pleading eyes don’t soften me. “And? We often grab a coffee here together. I thought you wanted to meet my friends.”

Dad puts his elbows on the little steel table. “Friends of your own age, yes. Don’t think I didn’t notice he’s older than you are.”

I sigh and glance back at Duke who is still at the same place in the line. He gives me a small apologetic smile like he’s sorry to leave me alone to deal with my dad’s grilling. “He’s twenty-one, not thirty.” The venom in my voice catches us all by surprise. My father recoils on his seat, losing the hard look on his face. My mother’s eyes bulge out. I just tug on my long sleeves of the red sweater I have on.

“You met him in your Psychology class?” Mom asks me, a hand on my father’s forearm to calm him down.

“Yes, we sort of collided.” I smile a little at the memory. It seems so long ago when it’s been only a few weeks. So much has happened since then.

“Collided?” Dad asks more calmly.

“Literally, I didn’t see him and bumped into him when I was trying to find an available seat.”

“And you two are ...”

“Friends,” Duke answers for me, putting our coffees on the table and sitting down next to me, just in front of my father. “I don’t want you to think there’s anything else going on between Skye and me.”

His deep voice makes my mother turn to putty in front of me and I cough to hide my growing need to laugh at the spectacle that my father doesn’t miss of course. He takes a sip of his black coffee after he put some sugar in it, without hiding his glare directed at my mother and Duke.

“Why’s that? Is my daughter not your type?”

Duke’s hand tightens around his paper mug. I put a hand over my eyes and feel myself blush. For this day to be complete, I just need Sean to appear from nowhere and him and Duke to fight in front of my father to make things worse.

“Nothing like that, sir,” he replies in a clipped voice that forces me to look at him. The shadows in his eyes are back. Under the table I squeeze his strong knee.

“What then?” he insists stubbornly and for the first time in my life I want to yell at my father.

“You don’t have to say anything,” I say under my breath to Duke, but my parents hear me perfectly well with the coffee house only half crowded.

He brings a shaky hand under the table and puts it over mine without squeezing. My mother follows the move and her eyebrows shoot up. My father is too focused on Duke’s face to see anything.

“Your father wants to protect you and it’s only normal that he wants to know my intentions,” Duke replies with a forced smile before his eyes leave mine to look unseeingly at the steely surface of the table. He clears his throat. “I respect Skye.” He looks back up and locks eyes with my father. “I can’t be in any kind of relationship and she doesn’t deserve any less than a guy committed to her heart and soul.” With his free hand he brings the coffee to his mouth and drinks a little, maybe to find the strength in himself to tell the rest. “Three years ago I was in love. I was in a serious relationship and thought it was forever, but ...” His voice breaks and I entwine my fingers with his long strong ones. “She died in a car accident.”

My mother covers her mouth with both hands, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She’s always been very emotional. My father loses his color and runs a hand through his buzzed hair.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he says with a gentleness he usually uses only with me. “If I knew, I wouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know,” Duke interrupts him, with a smile half as broad and bright than I’m used to seeing on his face.

“Can you cut the crap now, Dad?” I ask with a reprimand audible for everybody around our little table, making Duke chuckle and squeeze my fingers between his. My heart misses a beat but I don’t show it.

“I think I like him,” Dad says with a nod. He sips his coffee. “Do you know Sean?”

I tense beside Duke, bumping slightly against his shoulder. I feel him tensing, too. He tightens his grip on my hand under the table. “I met him once,” Duke answers, the smoothness in his voice gone. “And I’m not eager to see him again.”

I claw him with my fingernails. He can’t say things like that to them or he’s going to attract their attention. I grit my teeth.

“You’re very protective of our daughter,” my mother says with an appreciative voice.

“That and let’s just say that Sean is not someone I can have any respect for.”

“Why?”

“It’s nothing, Dad. Duke doesn’t like how Sean dumped me and how he ignores me whenever we cross paths,” I reply nervously.

Duke groans but doesn’t say another word about Sean. Instead, he tells them about how good I am in Psychology class and how I’m sure to be a successful student if I happen to choose this major. I begin to relax when Sean doesn’t come back into our conversation.

*  *  *

“What’s gotten into you?” I yell at Duke once we’re in his room. My parents went back to their hotel before we meet again for dinner at an Italian restaurant in a couple of hours. I loudly close the door behind me. “You have no right to force me to talk to them about Sean!”

He throws his leather jacket on his bed and faces me with his dark eyes pinning me close to the door. “I’m not the one bringing him in to the conversation. Your father did!” he snaps back, his index finger pointing at my face.

“You should have said something else, anything!”

“And lie to your parents?”

I lean against the closed door. All the fight inside me vanishes. I’m just so tired after such an afternoon. It’s draining. I forgot how draining it is to face my father’s piercing gaze from whom I have to hide tons of things. And for the first time ever, I’ve brought someone into this mess.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, not looking at him.

He walks over to me and cages me between his arms on each side of my head. I should be afraid or uneasy to be imprisoned by his arms, but I’m not. I think I trust him much more than I thought. I lock my eyes with his black ones and suck in my breath. He’s so intense sometimes.

“Never say sorry when the reason is Sean.” He brushes several strands of my frizzy hair away from my face. “He’s the one who put you in this position and you’re the one trying to piece yourself back together. I shouldn’t step in and tell you what to do.”

“Are you trying to apologize?” I whisper, conscious that my breath brushes his face just like his brushes mine. Goose bumps appear down my neck and under my oversized sweater.

He doesn’t move away, nor is he moving closer. His eyes never leave mine. “Between the lines, yes.” His dazzling smile freezes me more if it is possible. “I just want so much more for you. You deserve to reconnect with your parents and not have to hide.”

“Why are you so set on seeing me as the girl I used to be?”

It’s weird we are both whispering when there’s nobody beside the two of us in his room, but I can’t find it in me to talk above a whisper. It’d break the atmosphere and I don’t want it to. I like how it makes me feel, how I remember what it feels like to just be attracted to someone even if the guy doesn’t feel the same because he’s still grieving his girlfriend buried three years ago.

“Because you’re already so much more than anyone else, you must be breathtaking without all the pain still darkening your features.”

I blink twice, or maybe it is three times. I don’t know.
Breathtaking
. I blush and it seems to break the spell. He steps away and turns from me, giving me a good view of his strong back. I recompose myself and chuckle nervously, catching his attention. He looks back at me, a question on his flushed face.

“It was weird,” I offer in explanation and laugh like a maniac, making him laugh, too. “I really think the nerves are driving us nuts,” I mutter between laughter. I dry my face of a happy tear that has escaped.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to frighten you,” he says after he sobered up.

“I wasn’t afraid.” And I bite on my tongue, annoyed at myself for not thinking before I spoke. It’d be better if he thought I was frightened and not almost panting from desire for him, the guy I should only see as a friend and not like a potential sexual partner. “I should go back to my room.”

“I’ll walk you back.”

“No, I’ll be fine. See you,” I say, opening the door and walking away before he has enough time to object. I need some time alone before going to dinner with my parents, where we will probably talk about Sean and Duke, which won’t be a good thing for my nerves.