Rooter (Double H Romance) (13 page)

Chapter 15
The Tease

I’m still on a high from last night’s date with Rooter. Ryan and I are both on break sharing a plate of sirloin tips and rice topped with an oriental sesame vinaigrette. I’ve just finished telling him all about the date. “It was perfect, Ry.”

“Damn, for someone who’s never dated, he sure does it well.”

“Right?” I chuckle and take a bite of the steak, savoring the flavor. If it wasn’t for Randy feeding me gourmet meals for free on work nights, I’d probably be on a ramen noodle diet.

“Sounds like he knows quite a bit more about you than you thought.”

“Yeah. Part of me would be glad if he already knows all my shit, but the other part—not knowing exactly what he knows—is somewhat embarrassed by it.”

Ryan is hogging the rice like he always does so I scrape some to my side of the plate.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, babe.” He squeezes the top of my knee. “A lot of really fucked up stuff happened to you and none of it was your fault.”

“I don’t want him to think I’m damaged or broken because of it.”

Nearly everyone who knows my story—and few do—thinks of me that way. Including Miranda and her parents when they were alive. It’s part of the reason she treats me the way she does. Miranda wants to control what I do and who I do it with so no one can hurt me again. She thinks being mentally and physically abused by my mom—the only family I’ve ever known—has left me emotionally inept. She thinks I tend to let the wrong people in push the right people out; that I’m not a good judge of character. Perhaps she’s right, but I’ll never admit it.

“I doubt he thinks of you that way.”

“It worries me because I want him to see
me
when he looks at me, not my past.”

“That might be tough, Soph. Our pasts are a part of who we are, good and bad.”

That’s what I know and I don’t like it.

“Take me for instance,” he continues. “My father stopped talking to me for three years after I came out. It’s why I have a hard time living out in the open as a gay man.”

“Wow, I didn’t know that.”

The sadness in Ryan eyes is overwhelming and my heart breaks for him. My issues with my mother and a lack of a father help me to understand what that derision must have felt like for him.

“It’s why Seth did what he did,” he continues. “I wasn’t comfortable living life together out in the open. He couldn’t take it anymore.”

It’s my turn to comfort him. I lean my head against his shoulder and hold his hand. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

He shrugs and wipes a stray tear from his cheek with his sleeve. “Nothing I can do to change it now. It’s a lesson learned. That’s all we can do. Learn and grow through the pain.”

I believe in soulmates. I always have. But I believe there are many kinds of them; not just romantic. Ryan is one of mine. He and I are kindred spirits. We understand and have empathy for each other’s pain. In the short time I’ve come to know Ryan, he’s become a positive, solid force in my life. When I’m down, he raises me up. When I’m happy, he shares in my joy. I’m eternally grateful he has come into my life.

“I love you,” I admit for the first time, knowing he’ll understand my meaning.

“I love you, too, babe.”

When I pull up, Rooter is standing in my driveway. My stomach does a little flip at the sight of him. He opens my door and helps me out of the car.

“Hi,” he murmurs and kisses me. His lips are light as a feather against mine giving me goosebumps.

“Hi.” I beam at him.

“How was work?” His thumb massages the top of my hand in gentle strokes.

“Good. Made a ton in tips.” Hand in hand, we walk to my front door, my eyes on him the entire way. “Want to come in?” I ask once we reach my door.

“Wish I could. I have to be at the shop by six. We’re running behind on a build.”

I feel guilty. It’s almost one in the morning. He should be sleeping. “You didn’t need to wait up on me.”

“I’ll always wait up on you, Sophie. Your safety is more important than sleep.”

Swoon. I place my hand on his cheek and he leans into it. His stubbly cheek is warm against my palm. “But you’ll be so tired tomorrow.”

“No worries. I napped earlier.”

Likely because he knew he’d be up late to make sure I got in safe. He really is too good to be true.

“Thank you for walking me to my door.”

“Maybe we can grab lunch together tomorrow. I’ll call you around noon.”

“Okay.”

He leans in slow for a kiss and my entire body goes haywire. My pulse speeds up, my breathing becomes uneven, and my stomach does somersaults. At first the kiss is soft and sweet, but then he takes my bottom lip between his teeth and licks it, erupting a fire inside of me. I moan a little too loudly. His smirk tells me he’s aware of the effect he’s having on me.

Rooter does something to me I can’t explain. It’s as though his entire being is a magnet that draws me to him. I can’t wait another second. I need to taste him now. I wrap my hands around the back of his head and pull him into me. He kisses me, but barely. He teases me with the tip of his tongue causing me to whimper. I need more. But he pulls away and removes my arms from his neck. There’s a gleam in his eyes.

“Don’t tease me,” I pant.

“But it’s so much fun.”

“Not for me.”

“No?” He leans in, the side of his face grazes mine. His breath is hot against my ear. His heat, his scent, is intoxicating. “I think you like it,” he taunts in a low voice. “Look at how you’re responding.”

My chest heaves and my breath is ragged. He laughs, mockingly. He has me right where he wants me.

“I hear payback is a bitch,” I threaten.

He pulls back and looks at me, amused. “Is that right?”

“Yeah.” Two can play this game.

He cocks his head to the right. “And exactly how do you plan on paying me back?”

“Maybe next time, I won’t
let
you kiss me.”

“Oh Sophie,” he takes a lock of my hair and twirls it between his fingers, “we both know better than that.”

“Guess we’ll have to wait and see.” I hate that I’m still panting.

“Good night, Sophie.” He winks and I nearly collapse.

“Good night.”

I watch him through the front door window as he walks away, finding it hard to comprehend how such an indecently hot human being exists. And finding it even harder to fathom that he’s mine.

“Holy fuck,” Miranda says and I jump two feet in the air.

“I didn’t know you were there.” I hold both hands to my chest.

She doesn’t notice she almost gave me a coronary. “I may not be completely sold on that guy, but he sure knows what the hell he’s doing.”

“Torturing me is what he’s doing.”

“I’d like someone to torture me like that.” We both laugh.

Rooter calls me at noon exactly to tell me he’s on his way to get me. He pulls in front of my house less than fifteen minutes later. I dart out of the house and upon seeing the look of amusement on his face regret my eagerness at once.

“Happy to see me?” He smiles wide making the skin around his eyes wrinkle.

I shrug. “Just hungry.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I’m
very
happy to see you.” He leans in to kiss me and I take a step back. “Playing it like that, huh?”

“Just giving you a taste of your own medicine. How is it?”

“Pretty damn good from what I can remember.” He winks.

My heart skips a beat. “Well, that memory is going to have to hold you over a while.”

“We’ll see.”

“Yeah, we will.”

Rooter secures his helmet to my head and I climb on to the back of his bike. He kisses the palm of my hand giving it a featherlike lick that sets my skin ablaze before wrapping my arms around him. He’s playing dirty.

We pull into Skyles’ parking lot and hop off the motorcycle. Rooter takes me by the hand and leads me into the bar. Joe Skyles, the owner, is working the bar. I’ve gotten to know Joe pretty well over the years. He used to ask me out all the time, but he’s way too old for me. I’d put him at thirty, at least, though he’s a very attractive thirty. When he sees me walking hand in hand with Rooter, he looks surprised.

“Hey Joe,” I say as we take a seat at a high topper near the bar.

“Hey, Soph.” He sets two menus before us and looks from me to Rooter and back to me again.

“Joe, this is Rooter.” I wave between the two men. “Rooter, this is Joe.”

“Nice to meet you, man,” Rooter says and extends his hand.

“I’ve seen you in here before. Nice to meet you.” Joe’s voice is flat as he shakes Rooter’s hand. “What can I get you to drink?”

“I’ll have my usual.” I smile.

Rooter looks at me with an expression I can’t decipher. “I’ll have a coke.”

Joe goes back to the bar and Rooter chuckles under his breath.

“What’s funny?”

“Joe doesn’t seem very pleased to see you with me,” he whispers.

“He’s probably just surprised. I usually come here with Miranda.”

“Yeah right. That poor man is heartbroken.” Rooter is simply delighted with himself.

Joe arrives with our drinks. “One sweet tea and one coke. Ready to order or do you need a minute?”

“Give us a minute,” I say.

Joe stands and stares at me a little longer than he should before returning to the bar.

“And I thought you came here for the food,” Rooter jests.

“I do!”

“Yeah, that and the exceptional service.”

I shake my head and smirk. “Jealous?”

Rooter shakes his head, his expression now serious. “Not at all. I simply find it interesting.”

“Find what interesting?”

He takes my hand and brushes his thumb across my knuckles. “The fact that you can have any guy you want and you chose me.”

“You should remember that next time you think about teasing me.”

He leans in close. “That a threat?”

I lean in to close the gap. Our faces can’t be more than an inch apart. “Try me and find out.”

“Sophie, if you want me to kiss you, I will. Right here. Right now.”

My stomach flips and my body tingles. God, I want him to kiss me. Badly. But I need to teach him a lesson so rather than give in to my desire, I sit back in my seat and cross my arms. “You just want to mark your territory.”

He sits back and shakes his head. “You and I both know I don’t need to.”

“What does that mean?”

“Simply that I know how much you want me.”

“You’re so full of yourself!” But he’s right. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want to be with him.

He cocks his head with a leer. “Just telling it like it is.”

I scowl and shake my head in mock disgust.

He leans in again, his expression profoundly resolute. “I want you just as much, Sophie. And mark my word, before this day is over I will kiss you.”

Chapter 16
Getting Comfortable

“Do you have a little time or do you need to get back?” Rooter asks after paying for our meal.

“I have time.” And if I didn’t, I’d make the time.

“Want to ride out to the Westlake Boardwalk?”

The Westlake Boardwalk is hands down one of the most beautiful lakeside destinations in all of Western Michigan, though somewhat overpopulated by tourists. Tourists from all over the US vacation there each year. Most people call ahead for reservations two and even three years in advance to secure their lodging; especially the campers. It’s also popular with photographers both local and from afar. But even the overcrowding can’t take away from its magic.

The boardwalk expands two miles with the lighthouse pier on the far northern end. It’s one of my favorite places on earth, not that I’ve seen much of the earth. I’ve never stepped a foot outside of Michigan.

“I’d love to go. I haven’t been there since last fall.”

Rooter nods. I can’t be sure if it means he knows when I was there last or if it’s in agreement that we’ll go.

The ride takes close to an hour because Rooter takes the scenic lakeshore route to get there. Whenever I drive up to the boardwalk, I take this route, but it’s a wholly different experience on the back of Rooter’s Harley. Riding on the back of his bike, I feel as if I’m a part of the scenery, even though it’s passing by at speeds upward of sixty miles per hour. It’s a little cooler along the lakeshore than inland, but the pure exhilaration I get from the ride is worth the shivers and goosebumps.

“Were you warm enough?” Rooter rubs my arms, his concern evident. “I wasn’t thinking about how much cooler it is along the lakeshore when I took that route.”

“It was p-perfect,” my teeth chatter. “So beautiful.”

“We’ll take the main roads home.”

He laces his fingers with mine as we walk through the parking lot. We’ve only been dating a few days and yet I feel completely at ease; as though we’ve been together for years. The main entrance to the boardwalk is to the right of the parking lot, but he guides me to the left.

“I thought we were going to the boardwalk.” I point toward the entrance.

“Going in the back way,” he says as though I should know this.

“There’s a back way?”

He looks at me with amazement, the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

The walk to the back entrance is long, maybe a half mile, but I don’t mind. Walking alongside Rooter is a fascinating experience. People’s expressions are priceless. They look from him to me and back to him again, trying to understand why we’re together. Rooter is wearing his club cut with a pair of ripped black jeans and a snug white t-shirt that showcases his tattoos. I’m in a pair of white skinny jeans, a coral colored floral blouse and a pair of Toms. Our arms are wrapped around each other’s waists signifying we are indeed a couple. We make quite an interesting looking pair, but the looks Rooter is getting bothers me. Women glare at him as though he’s a rapist or murderer. Men eyeball him like a dirty thug who has no right to be near me.

Who the hell do they think they are? They aren’t any better than he or I. Do they assume they look better in their capris and loafers? Do they believe their yuppie style makes them better people? Well, I hate to break it to them, but by the looks of them I’d say half of the women here suffer from a severe lack of self-respect and self-esteem, with the way their boobs are on display for everyone to ogle. And the husband’s? Please… Most of them are ignoring their breast baring wives and panting over girls half their age. I haven’t seen Rooter check out any other women, or their boobs since we got here. He’s twice the man any of these judgmental schmucks are.

Rooter comes to an abrupt halt causing me to lurch forward. Luckily he keeps a hold of my hand or my face would be plastered on the sand covered concrete.

“Do you want me to take you home?” He asks, out of the blue, looking straight ahead instead of at me.

I furrow my brow. “Why would I want that?”

“Please, Sophie. I can see how uncomfortable you are.”

“What? No.” I panic. What did I do to make him think that?

“Yes you are,” he insists and jerks his hand away from mine. “Everyone’s staring and judging you for being with me and it bothers you.” He backs away from me, offended.

“No. Rooter,” I grab a hold of his hand and hold it tight, “I don’t care what anyone thinks about me being with you. I don’t like the way they’re looking at you.”

“What?” His shoulders relax and he unclenches his jaw.

“These judgmental assholes are looking at you like they’re better than you and it’s pissing me off!” Each word escalates in volume until I’m hollering. One of the judgmental housewives gives me a dirty look provoking me to glower at her as she walks by.

Rooter cackles. His earlier irritation is long gone. “Whoa, killer. Back down.” He comes close and takes hold of both my arms as though I might pounce on someone at any second. “It doesn’t matter what they think.”

“But they’re wrong!”

“Again. Doesn’t matter.” He rubs my arms in a soothing fashion to calm me. “Don’t let it bother you. I don’t.”

This takes me by surprise. Rooter doesn’t strike me as the type to allow people to look down on him. “Never?”

He shakes his head emphatically. “I don’t care what strangers think of me.”

“It doesn’t piss you off even a little that they’re looking down on you when they don’t even know you?”

“They’re strangers, Sophie. I’ll never see any of them again, so why should it bother me?”

“Yeah, but it still pisses me off.”

Rooter smiles and leans his forehead against mine. “I like protective Sophie.”

His gaze holds a depth I’ve not yet seen. His face is at once serious and thoughtful, with the right corner of his mouth turned up diminutively. For a moment, I fully expect him to lean in for a kiss. Instead, he pulls his forehead from mine and brings my hand to his lips and places a gentle kiss on the top without ever taking his eyes off of mine.

My heart rate speeds up and I can barely breathe. Forget my earlier declaration that I won’t let him kiss me. I want him to. No. I need him to. Right here. Right now. In front of all these jackasses giving him dirty looks.

Rooter gives me a wink and gets up from the bench. Dirty devil. He knew I wanted him to kiss me.

We come to a small opening between two towering sand dunes. The opening is narrow, so I follow Rooter until we come to a small clearing of beach. Roughly a hundred yards to our right is the boardwalk and public beach. I’ve seen people on this side, but never knew how they got over here. There's a gate blocking access from the public beach side which is always manned by a guard so that no one can enter that side without paying the entry fee. There’s a few people here on the beach with us; a woman under a multicolored beach umbrella reading a novel, a few couples, and one family with a toddler, a boy not older than four.

“This is a private beach.”

“No one ever says anything,” he says dismissively.

“You come here often?” I never once pictured Rooter kicking back on the beach. I always envisioned him hanging out in his shop or in bars with his biker buddies.

“Mostly in the winter.”

“The winter?” I definitely wasn’t expecting that. The sole idea of it causes me to shudder. Lake Michigan winters are brutal to say the least. I’ve seen pictures of the ice banks on the lake. That’s good enough for me. I have zero interest in experiencing them firsthand. I don’t even want to witness my yard in the winter. I’m talking subzero temperatures and three feet of snow on the ground from the end of December throughout most of March. One of these days, I’m moving south where it never snows.

“Yeah. When the lake’s iced over, the sunset here is phenomenal. Have you ever seen it?”

I shake my head. “Not much of a cold weather person.”

He chuckles. “Well, I’m bringing you here this winter. You must see it.”

Although I like him talking about us in the future tense, there’s no way I’m coming here in the freezing cold to watch a sunset. I don’t care how amazing it is. I’ve seen a lot of sunsets I can’t imagine one pretty enough to make me brave getting frostbite. “Take a picture.”

“No pictures. You have to see it in person to really capture the beauty of it.”

I giggle at my hot, badass biker talking about capturing the beauty of a sunset. He never ceases to surprise me.

“What?” He asks.

“You and phenomenally beautiful sunsets seem like a bit of an oxymoron.”

“What? I’m not phenomenally beautiful?” He feigns offense.

Although he isn’t truly offended by my words, I am. The more I get to know about him, the more attractive he becomes. And I thought he was a God before I met him. “Actually, you are.”

Rooter cups my face with his large, callused hand and looks into my eyes. “I think you’re phenomenally beautiful.”

My breath hitches.
Kiss me, please.
Just when I think he might, something hits me in the head.

“Sorry,” the little boy says, embarrassed and runs off with his beach ball.

Rooter and I laugh. I gaze up at him, hoping for a kiss, but apparently the moment has passed.

I remove my Toms and Rooter follows close behind as I mosey to the edge of the water. The sand on this side is pristine. No bottle caps or toy cars pressing into my feet. No towels and chairs to maneuver around. No dogs or kids running into me full speed ahead. No one yelling at me for accidentally kicking sand onto them as I walk by. Only soft, white sand and the sound of the waves rolling onto the beach. The sun sparkles like diamonds on the water. I close my eyes and inhale as a gentle wind blows through my hair.

“I could spend all day here.” I open my eyes and look to my right to find Rooter gazing at me with a smile.

“I’m game.”

He takes a seat at the edge of the water and I do the same. I lift my face to the sky to absorb the warmth of the sun.

“I wish I could, but I have this thing called a job and unfortunately I need said job to pay another thing called rent.”

Rooter grins and laces his fingers with mine. “I’ll bring you back when we can spend an entire day together.” His grin turns mischievous. “Preferably with you in that yellow bikini.”

My mind goes back to the day we met and I flush. I lean into Rooter for a kiss, but my phone rings and interrupts the moment.
Dammit.

“I thought you weren’t kissing me,” Rooter jokes.

“I changed my mind.” My phone is still ringing with Miranda’s ringtone.

“Is that right?”

We’re still leaning into each other. All I’d have to do is inch forward and my lips will be on his.

“Yeah,” I breathe.

“Well, so have I.” He pulls away.

“What?” I stare at him, bewildered. Finally my damn phone shuts up.

“I’m going to make you work for it.”

“Work for it?”

“Yeah. You’re going to have to earn it.”

How am I supposed to
earn
a kiss? I’m not exactly the most experienced person in this thing called dating and I’m pretty sure I suck at flirting. Trying not to overthink it, I cross my arms and say the first thing that comes to mind. “I won’t go out with you again until you kiss me.”

He leans in close. So close I know he’s going to give me what I want. “Sophie, be realistic. You know you can’t stay away from me.”

Denied, yet again. I lean back and prop myself up on my elbows. “You so need to get over yourself.”

Rooter leans down further, hovering over top of me. “Actually, I think it’s
you
who can’t get over me.”

My heart palpitates and I can barely breathe. His face is inches from mine. I hate this game, but I love it. I lean forward to close the gap between us. “Kiss me,” I plead.

And then my phone rings again. He pulls away and sits upright with a smirk on his face.

This is the second time Miranda has called. Since she knows I’m out with Rooter it must be important, otherwise she’d just send a text. “Hello?”

“I need you to come home.” Her voice is laced with panic.

“What happened?”

Rooter’s head jerks in my direction.

“Mike just called. He’s wasted, and he’s pissed. Says we’re going to pay for kicking him out.”

“I’m on my way.” I end the call and turn to Rooter. “I need to get home.”

“What is it?”

“Mike just called Miranda and threatened her.”

When I open the front door, Miranda is sitting on the couch trembling as she cries. She stares at her phone on the table before her.

“Has he called back?” I ask and sit next to her.

“What did he say?” Rooter asks, taking the chair next to the couch. He hunches over and rests his arms on his knees.

“He said this is his house as much as it is mine and I had no right kicking him out. And said I was wrong to choose Sophie over him and he’s going to make both of us pay for it.”