After Tuesday (26 page)

“Sorry. I needed to do that,” he admits.

“I needed you to do it, too,” I say as I realize it.

“C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Walking into his house without his parents at home feels strange. It’s late, and we’re alone. I’m used to an empty house where I live, but being here almost seems wrong. I keep looking over my shoulder, waiting for his parents to come out and catch us.

Obviously sensing my anxiety, Brent says, “Don’t worry. Nobody’s here. They’re in Chicago. My brother sent me a text as soon as they got there. They’re likely asleep already.”

We make our way into the living room. I take a seat in the wingback chair as Brent sits on the couch. He laughs a little, shaking his head.

“What?” I ask.

“You look like you’re waiting for an interrogation. You can sit next to me. I swear I won’t bite you.”

Am I nervous? Hell yeah, I am.

I move over to join him on the couch. “Brent…” I begin and then pause to clear my throat. “I’m so sorry about the other night. I never wanted you to see any of that.”

“Hold on.”

Scooting over on the couch, he puts one arm around my shoulder and places his other hand on top of the clasped hands in my lap. His eyes bear down on me until I meet them with my own.

Looking into my eyes, he says, “I’m sorry. We can talk about what happened in a minute. I really do want to know what’s going on since you tell me I have it all wrong, but I need to say something first.” He takes a moment looking up at the ceiling before returning gaze to me. “That night, when you and I were together, meant more to me than I think you’ll ever know. Being with you really was something more than amazing. God, I
never
wanted to hurt you. I don’t know if you can ever see that…if you
will
ever see that. The way everything went down later that night and then when we, I guess, broke up the next day was just all wrong. I wish it never happened. Truly.”

“I wish it never happened either—I mean, after we were together. The next day, I—”

“I told you what you meant to me. I still mean it. That didn’t change.”

“Yeah?”

The word barely crosses my lips before he gently and briefly kisses me.

“Absolutely.”

Then, he gives me another kiss, prolonging on my lips this time. I keep my eyes closed until there’s some distance between our mouths once again.

“But after?” I question.

He leans back. “I’m so sorry. I hate that I hurt you like that.”

“Everything else about that night
killed
me.”

“I never wanted that. That wasn’t what I wanted at all. All I wanted was to be with you in that moment. I handled this badly.”

“Me, too.”

Unable to look at him, I lean my head on his shoulder. I know it’s time to tell him everything. I’m really nervous about putting it out there, but I need to have faith that it’s for the best of everything.

“I need to tell you about that night. I
was
keeping something from you.” I breathe deeply. “Nights like that happen a lot at my house. I’m kind of regular at that bar, but I wasn’t there with my dad. I was there to get my dad. They know me there because of that. Nothing else. He’s got a problem. He was getting help, but he relapsed that night. He’s trying, but I don’t know. Last weekend, I think I was a little too hard on him. He really hasn’t been able to stay sober since then. His sponsor told me he’s been going to meetings, but I don’t think they’re doing any good.”

“Like a drinking problem? Drugs? Jesus! Does he hurt you?” Brent questions with raging concern.

I sit up to look at him. “No.” I sigh. “It’s nothing like that. I told you what happened to you at the bar was an accident. He wasn’t trying to hurt you. If he picks a fight, it’s usually with things that don’t move. Did you see his hand was bleeding?”

Brent raises his brow.

“Well, that was because he decided to punch the mirror in the bathroom. He does stuff like that. I’ve learned to just stay out of his way. I should have told you that, especially since you were there with me. That was my fault.”

Brent closes his eyes. I think he’s trying to process my explanation.

“Ruby, what happened to me that night isn’t your fault. Don’t ever think that. Ever.”  He audibly breathes through his nose. “So, I guess that’s why I never met him? I don’t know why I’m just now realizing that I never met your parents. What about your mom? Does she have a problem, too?”

Fuck. I really have been leading a secret life.

“I…I just never talk about them. I tend not to stay at my house much. My mom… she died when I was little, so I never really knew her. I wasn’t trying to keep all this from you. I just don’t talk about it…with anyone. I should have told you a little more about myself, but I didn’t think it mattered.”

“It does matter, but it doesn’t change the way I feel about you. It’s part of you. I want to know all the parts of you.” Leaning back into the couch, he rubs his hands through his thick hair. “I’m sorry about your mom, and I wish I would have known about your dad. I can kind of understand why you don’t tell people. Maybe. I can’t believe I didn’t realize that I’d never met him before until that night. I never even thought it was weird that your parents didn’t ask to meet me. My parents were dying to meet you. I always talked about you, and then they saw you at the game. Didn’t you ever talk about me with your dad?”

Maybe parents actually speak to their kids about things other than making sure the electric bill is paid.
That’s not my reality though.

“No, I didn’t tell him about you. Don’t take it personally, but I don’t talk to him about much of anything. We kind of lead separate lives. I don’t see him that often. It was getting better for a while, but after last weekend, I don’t know if it will ever get better.”

He pulls me in close, wrapping both arms around my body. “I had no idea your home life was anything like that for you. I would’ve never guessed any of that was going on. So, you’re kind of on your own for everything then?”

“It isn’t forever. I’ll be leaving when school is out. I’m just sorry that I dragged you into my mess. It isn’t fair to you…and you got hurt.”

“C’mon, Ruby. You didn’t drag me into anything. I just wish I knew earlier. You can’t do everything all the time by yourself.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Everyone has something,” he admits.

“Yeah, but most people don’t have to deal with my father, who put my boyfriend in physical danger.”

“Am I still your boyfriend?” he probes with sincerity.

“Do you still want to be? I’d hate for anything, like last weekend, to happen again. You don’t deserve that.”

“And you think you do?”

“No.”

“You don’t, and by the way, I am sticking around if you want me. I want to be with you. Just don’t keep me in the dark, okay?”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“You better not,” he says, pulling me into him.

 “Just so you know, I want to be with you, too.” I close my eyes, feeling at home in his arms. “With everything that’s happened, I can’t believe you still want to be with me,” I say quietly. I’m embarrassed by my insecurity.

“Ruby…” He waits until I look up at him. “Maybe I haven’t been clear, and maybe it’s time that I am. I want to be with you because I need to be. Those other things don’t matter. I can handle all of them…because they’re part of
you
. I want to be with you because when I’m with you, near you, around you, I’m better than any other version of me.”

Why does he say such amazing things? What am I supposed to say after something like that?

“Thank you. You make me better, too.” I wish I could say more, but sometimes, it’s best to keep it simple.

We sit together, silently holding one another, for a while longer. I begin to yawn when my body starts to register the hour. It’s been a long week of stress and unknowns.

“You look tired,” Brent says against my ear.

“I am tired. Can you take me home?” I ask, standing up from the couch.

“Do you need to go home?”

“Not really, but I should go. Why?”

“Can you stay the night? With me? Here?”

I blink, allowing his words to sink in.
Did I just hear him right?

He continues, “I’ve missed you, but if you need to go home—”

“I have to work really early in the morning,” I tell him tentatively.

“I don’t mind. I can take you in the morning.”

My heart is pounding in my ears. “Are you sure you want me to stay with you?” The thought of sleeping next to Brent, holding each other all night, sounds like the sweetest form of medicine to mend all of this week’s heartache.

“C’mon.” He grabs my hand and pulls me to the stairs.

We walk upstairs, slowly, hand in hand. He then leads me down the hallway to the last door on the left.

When we enter his room, his bed looks so inviting. Overwhelmed by my unbelievable exhaustion, I walk over and crash on top of the comforter. I guess I’ve just been pushing through the week, and it’s finally taking its toll.

“Here, you can wear these,” he says, tossing an oversized T-shirt and boxers into my lap. “I’ll go change in the bathroom.”

When he leaves the room, I change quickly. As I crawl under the comforter, I relax completely. The covers lift, startling me from my near slumber, as he joins me in bed. When I roll over to face him, his arms circle around my body, pulling me closer to him. His warm breath lingers in the small space between us.

He whispers, “I’ve really missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too…a lot,” I whisper back. After I clear my throat, I say, “Brent, I am so sorry.”

“Shhh, it’s not your fault. You can’t change it. You can just do the best you can and let me love you.”

I can do that. I can let him love me because I need his love.

“I love you,” I declare. Closing the gap between us, I kiss him gently on the lips. I pull back slightly. Against his lips, I softly say, “So much.”

Brent kisses me back. He’s gentle at first, but then he deepens the kiss further. His mouth opens, and his tongue searches for my own. I open my mouth in response, our tongues meeting, as I push my chest against his, sealing our bodies together. His hands float up inside the back of my shirt (
technically, his shirt
) before he presses his palms to my skin.

Finding the hem of his top, my hands move underneath to feel the warmth on his back. I trace my fingers along his spine, up and then down, and then I place a hand between us on his bare chest. With a groan, he pulls me toward him tightly, grinding his body against mine.

Desperate to be close, I need to feel him again. After helping him out of his shirt, I pull off my own. His hands are quick to remove the boxers and panties from my body, and then he takes off his boxers as well. We kiss again for an eager yet quick and heated moment.

Rolling away from me, he opens a drawer in his nightstand. He turns back to me with a condom in hand. I can see the want in his eyes, but he hesitates, not moving.

“I didn’t ask you to stay for this,” he manages to say through the anticipation. “We don’t have to—”

I lick my lips and then gently seal them to his. The kiss I give him is steady, sure, and confident, drawing the moment out. I pull back a little, searching his eyes. I feel so complete. He wants me, all of me—my baggage, my body, my heart, my soul—and I want everything that he is.

So, that’s what we give to each other.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Three Weeks Later

I’m restocking the straws in the back of the restaurant.

“Ruby,” Sarah calls to me, “you have a table.”

“Tell someone else to take it. My shift’s over,” I tell her as I finish putting the box away.

I turn around to see her leaning against the entryway, arms crossed in front of her. She chortles a little before pushing off the doorframe.

“They asked for you. It’s your table. Sorry,” she says through a breathy laugh.

Why is she laughing?

“All right,” I relent. I’m guessing it’s likely a regular, so at least, the tip will be good. Not to mention, I like my regulars. “I’ll do it, but no more.”

“Table seven,” Sarah says as she turns around to head into the dining room.

I follow her, and when I round the corner, I head straight to my table, which I already cleaned.
At least the rest of my section will stay clean.

These don’t look like my usual customers at all. Two young guys and a girl are sitting in the booth. The couple faces me while the single guy has his back to me. Leaning back, the blonde girl smiles, full of teeth, with excitement. It’s Lexi, and she’s sitting next to Owen. The dark-haired guy across from her turns around to face me, eyes lighting up. I smile, seeing Brent.

I stop at the end of the table and don’t even reach for my pad to take their order.

“Hey, Ruby. We missed you this morning,” Owen says while playing with a sugar packet.

Reaching down under the table, Lexi pats Owen’s leg. “Hi,” she says.

“Hey. Are you guys here to eat?” I question skeptically.

“No,” Brent chimes in, dimples ablaze. “We just came by to see you. Can you sit?” He pats the area next to him.

“Just for a minute. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Brent scoots in, giving me space to sit down next to him. I still get chills every time we’re close to one another. This is no different.

Brent leans in to breathe against my ear. “I wanted to see you in your uniform.” He laughs a little.

I can feel my face flush. Leaning back, I observe every inch of him. He’s wearing cleats, socks, shin guards, shorts, and a matching shirt.
What is it about a uniform?

“I like yours, too.” Looking back over to Owen, I ask, “So, did you guys win?”

“Nope. Cromwell blew it in the last half,” he kids. “He was probably daydreaming about girls.”

“Shut it. You know Liam was open. I don’t care what he says. He was off today, not me.”

“Chill,” Owen hoots. “Damn, I’m just kidding with you. Relax.”