Perfect Collision (11 page)

“That's new,” Eliza said when she came in and noticed what he was looking at.

“What story is it from?” He didn't recognize it, and he usually did.

“One we came up with together about a princess. Her dad wants her to marry a prince, but she doesn't want to, because she thinks love is stupid and runs away. She crosses a river, and meets this guy and they fall in love. Then she finds out it's the prince!”

“Nice.”

“I know, I came up with it.”

He chuckled since it was a very typical Eliza comment. He read the story she'd asked for, and she fell asleep while he was reading.

Then he lay there, looking around her room at Vi's paintings. One of them was Eliza and Vi as fairies. It looked exactly like them, and he wondered how she could paint herself and not see how beautiful she was. With a sigh, he got out of Eliza's bed and snuck out of the room to find Mitch on the deck.

“Where's Dad and Mel?” he asked, and Mitch rolled his eyes. He knew what that meant. “Fucking rabbits. Wanna head up to the river?”

Mitch nodded as he stood up and put out his smoke in the ashtray. “I was gonna suggest it.”

They made sure everything was locked up and the alarms turned on before they left. Their dad and Mel tended to not come back down once they'd gone to bed.

Mac enjoyed the ride out to their spot. They'd gone there often. It started when they were kids, when either their dad, Bear, or both of them took them there. Once they got older, they caught a lift with anyone who had the time and spent the night alone. The last few years, they rode. Often taking long detours.

Once the campfire was lit, they got down next to it, and Mitch handed him a joint. They lay in silence and watched the stars as they took the first drags.

Mac needed to talk to someone, and Mitch was the natural choice. There was no one he trusted more. Mitch wouldn't tell anyone else, and he had a way of looking at things the opposite way of how Mac did. He needed that at the moment, since he was stuck in his own train of thought. He needed a different perspective.

“I kissed Vi. About a month ago, when she did my ink.”

Mitch looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yup.”

“Was wondering what crawled up your ass. Since I haven't seen you with two black eyes, I'm guessing no one else knows.”

“Not unless she told them.”

“And she obviously didn't tell Bear.” He laughed and shook his head. “Shit, bro. Now what?”

Mac sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees. “She's so much younger. She's... fuck! She's Bear's daughter and... it's not going to happen. I don't see how it could.”

Mitch looked at him for a while, meeting his eyes and then he smiled. “You're a total goner.”

He rubbed his hand over his face with a sigh. He already knew that.

“Doesn't matter. It's not gonna happen. I can't do that. It would fuck up the club, I'd piss everyone off, and I can't fuck
her
up.”

“Jesus, Mac! What is it with you and that head? Don't you think you're overthinking this a little? I mean, she'll be eighteen in... what? Just over a month? ” Mac nodded; he knew very well when Vi turned eighteen. Mitch continued. “She's not jailbait, and she's smart, calm, and all the shit you are, and I'm not. If it'd been me going after her, it sure as shit would piss people off, but not when it's you. You'd treat her right, and Bear would know that, too.”

“Okay, maybe I'm overthinking a little, but you're not thinking enough. It's not that easy.”

“I never think enough,” he smiled. “Is this about her crushing on you?”

“Yeah. That too.”

“So you think because she's been crushing on you, is younger, and
very
innocent—you'd be taking advantage of her?”

“Something like that.”

“That's bull and you know it. You'd figure out pretty fucking fast if it's still just a schoolgirl crush, but I don't think it is.”

Mitch was one of those people who slid through life and got by through pure fucking luck. There wasn't much he took seriously except the club and his family. He'd been much more sure than Mac about becoming a Marauder, too. He hadn't hesitated for a second, and definitely didn't see any point in doing it anywhere but home. He'd been a prospect by the time he was twenty-one and was already close to patching in. They were different in many ways, but at the same time there was no one who knew Mac better. No one he was closer to.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” Mitch asked.

“I kissed her when she inked me, then I freaked her out, and that was pretty much it.”

“Freaked her out?”

“I shoved my dick against her.”

Mitch stared at him. “Tell me you didn't whip it out?”

“Jesus,
no
!” He couldn't help himself; he laughed so hard, and when he finally calmed down he dried his eyes. “I'm not that fucking stupid.”

“Good. Got worried there for a second. Is this why she's avoiding the clubhouse?”

“Think that's a safe bet.”

“Seriously, you need to do
something
. You can't leave her hanging. You need to at least talk to her.”

“I know.”

Of course he knew that. He just had no fucking idea what to say, and he was definitely not convinced he would be able to talk to her without trying to kiss her and freaking her out again. He could hardly think about her without wanting to kiss her. But Mitch was right. He needed to talk to her, it wasn't right to leave it like this. He decided to do it the next day. Just get it over with.

-o0o-

It had been a month since that stupid kiss, and I was still avoiding the clubhouse in general and Mac in particular. I'd also been thinking a lot about sex and the fact that I'd never had it, and—just a lot.

More than usual.

A lot
more than usual.

Sex was very confusing to me. I lived around guys who had it all the time. Girls were hanging in the clubhouse, just waiting for one of the men to want them.

I wasn't stupid. I knew life wasn't like in the movies, where people struggled to get together, and the happy ever after with a beautiful sunset behind the kissing couple as the movie ended. From what I could, the kiss wasn't the end. The kiss was when things started to get complicated. Or when people got married. That seemed to be the really hard stuff—to make it last.

I felt like I had some idea about relationships, how they worked, or... were supposed to work in theory. The sex part on the other hand... that confused me. Especially how it seemed to be my main focus in life. Which didn't seem like a very girl thing to think about. Like, when a cute guy walked into the shop, and I immediately thought about him naked. Neither did touching oneself. All that seemed to be more of a guy thing.

When it all made my head feel like it was about to burst, I waited until Trixie and I were alone at the shop, but before Dad came to pick me up, and then just went for it.

“This might sound weird, and you can tell me to go fuck myself, but do you... you know... touch yourself?” She looked stunned, and I just kept going without waiting for her to answer. “Just, 'cause, you know, guys talk about jerking off all the time. How they jizzed all over the bathroom mirror, or jerked off thinking about a girl, or how some girl's ass is in their spank bank. Girls never talk about it. I've
never
heard a girl say, 'hey, look at that bulge, I'm gonna put that in my rub scrub.'”

It bugged me, that guys were so open—too open—about their masturbating, and I'd honestly never heard a girl talking about it. When teachers had talked about in school, it was to tell us it was perfectly natural and nothing to be embarrassed or worried about. Which made me think I probably should worry about it, since apparently everyone else did. I knew it happened in porn, but I found it unlikely the only time a woman masturbated was in front of a camera.

Once again, I didn't let Trixie answer. It wasn't sure if I'd be able to continue and get it all out if I stopped talking now. So I kept going.

“They talked about it in sex-ed, that it's normal for guys to jerk off, and then they talked to us girls about our period. They said to the guys that it was okay to be curious about stuff and want to touch girls. And they told us that it was okay to not be ready, to want to wait.”

That had been so confusing, too. I was curious about sex, I wasn't sure if I was ready, but I was curious, and no one had said that it was okay for girls to touch themselves and be curious. The only girls that seemed to be really open about wanting to have sex were the sweetbutts at the club and Trixie. And there was no way in hell I'd talk to any of the sweetbutts about sex. I was sure Trixie wouldn't judge me no matter what I said.

Before I totally lost my nerve, I got to the last part I really wanted to ask her.

“Because, I mean, I am curious about stuff, and I do touch myself.” I was whispering. It happened often when I'd planned a speech or was upset. I had a flying start and lost momentum towards the end. “And I've never really seen that anywhere, like on TV or in movies. Teenage girls doing... that, or being curious. They're all nervous and stressed about guys pushing them...” I finally managed to look at Trixie. “Am I a complete freak?”

She shook her head and took a step towards me.

“Listen to me, honey. Being curious is normal. Touching yourself is normal, and
wanting
to touch yourself is normal, too. It's even
good
that you do, because it helps you to understand your body and what you like. All of that is normal, no matter if you have a dick or a pussy. I do it, too, and as far as I know, all my girlfriends do.” She put her hands on my cheeks and made me look at her. “I don’t know why no one ever talks about it properly in school, or why they always portray girls as uncertain about sex on TV, but it pisses me off that they do. But you are
not
a freak! You have a healthy curiosity about sex. I’m glad you masturbate. It’s good that you do. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said after a relieved sigh. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

“No prob,” she smiled and kissed my forehead. “Wish someone had said it to me when I was your age.” Then she let go of my cheeks, took a step back and laughed. “Look at that bulge, I'm gonna put it in my
rub scrub
. Where the fuck did that come from?”

“I don't know. Dad's gonna be here soon to pick me up.” I looked at her. “Thank you. I needed to hear those things.” I wasn't convinced, but at least I knew of one other normal woman who did it.

“Any time, kid,” she said with a smile.

Once Dad'd dropped me off at our place, he left for the club. I tried to focus on my homework, which wasn't all that easy even normally, but lately it'd been even worse. I actually felt glad when I heard the doorbell, because it gave me a reason to give up on my feeble attempts to write an essay about Anne Boleyn.

I opened the door, and when I saw who it was I choked. Why was he here?

“Hi, Vi,” Mac said with a smile.

“Dad isn't here.”

“I know. Can I come in?”

I hesitated and then backed up while opening the door wider. He walked past me, and then turned around to watch me close the door.  I clasped my hands in front of me, looking at them. Maybe hearing whatever he had to say would be easier if I kept my focus on them rather than him. I
wanted
to look at him, but I couldn't. My head was such a weird place when he was around, and looking at him made it even worse.

“Vi, I’m really sorry for what I did. It was wrong, and I’m sorry if I upset you.”

I shook my head. “You didn’t upset me.”

It didn’t sound as if he'd come to tell me he liked me or to kiss me again.
That u
pset me a little bit, but what he'd done at Wicked Ink, it didn't upset me. It did other things to me, though. Things I was still trying to understand.

“Listen, you’re a beautiful girl. I meant that, and one day you'll make some guy really happy.” He went quiet, but I kept my eyes on my hands, and eventually he continued. “But you're so much younger, and... and your dad is my brother. He'd kill me. I can't...”

I'd never known something could hurt like I was hurting, as if someone was sitting on my chest—it was painful to breathe. My heart was pounding hard enough for me to
hear
it.

I'd kinda hoped he'd come to... well, basically anything but what seemed to be the reason for him to be here. Even if it had been just to talk to Dad and completely ignore me, it would still have been better than this.

The only thing I wanted was that he'd kiss me, just one more time—when I was prepared for it. I wanted one kiss from him that I expected to see if it was different that way. And that he'd call me Katze.

“Vi, please look at me.”

Once again I shook my head, but I couldn't answer. I seemed to have lost the ability to form words, and for the first time I fully understood what 'tongue-tied' meant. Because that's how it felt, as if my tongue was tied down.

I heard him walk over the floor towards me, and I thought he was leaving, which felt horrible and was a relief at the same time. Then I felt his hand on my cheek, gently tilting my head up. Surprised, I opened my eyes, and the pressure on my chest increased when I stared into his eyes.

“Oh, fuck,” he mumbled. “I'm a fucking ass. I'm so sorry.”

I wasn't sure what he meant, what exactly he was sorry about. I hoped he meant he was sorry for what he was saying just now rather than what he'd done, but I didn't think so. He was still sorry about the kiss. He stroked my cheeks with his thumbs and it felt... good, nice...

“Vi, it wouldn't be fair to you, and I really came to tell you to come back to the clubhouse. I don't want you to lose that. They're your family, and I'll stay out of your way. I promise I won't bother you.”

I closed my eyes again. I didn't want to watch him when he said those things. It was bad enough he was so close to me, but looking at him might make me lose it completely.

“Mac, could you do something for me?” If he was gonna do this, like, for real, it didn't matter anymore. I might as well ask. Not like things could get any worse.