Rooter (Double H Romance) (17 page)

“I hate men!” I bellow and fall back onto the sectional.

“Hey,” Ryan feigns offense trying to lighten the mood.

“All men but you,” I correct with a forced smile.

“I hate to do this to you,” he says, “but I need to leave for work.”

“You really don’t mind me staying here?”

“Absolutely not. Make yourself at home. There’s plenty of food and drink. Booze if you prefer. If you get tired, sleep in my bed,” he offers with a warm smile. “But save room for me.”

I laugh, but barely. “Thank you so much.”

“Do you want me to stay awhile?” Miranda asks after Ryan leaves.

She can’t stay with me. She has virtual class tonight. Virtual class is where she has to sign in and attend class online with the professor and other students. It’ll count against her if she misses. I don’t want her to get dinged on account of me and my boy problems.

“No. Go do your class thing.”

“I feel terrible leaving you here alone.”

“It’s okay,” I assure her with a smile. “It might do me some good to have time alone to think.” I don’t really believe this. In fact, I’m pretty sure being alone will be utterly miserable and could result in some sort of poor decision making.

“What should I say to him?” Miranda asks, standing in front of the door.

“Whatever you want, but do
not
tell him where I am.”

“I won’t,” she assures me.

“I’m serious, Miranda. You have to promise not to tell him.”

“I promise.” She starts out the door, but stops and turns around. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

When I wake I turn on my phone, curious as to how many messages and texts Rooter has left for me. My stomach is upset. I’m nervous about what he might say, but I’m more nervous about how I’ll respond to it. I can’t bring myself to check my messages. I need more time to calm down.

Finally, at ten thirteen I give in. The first message was left right after I peeled away from the shop.

“Listen to them with me?” I ask Ryan who is sitting across from me at his dining room table.

“Sure,” he says and scoots into the chair next to me.

I take a deep breath and count to ten in an attempt to control the roiling of my stomach. After several long moments, I push play.

Chapter 20
The Explanation

“Sophie,” Rooter huffs, out of breath, “baby I’m sorry. Just let me explain. Call me or come back to the shop, please.”

In the second message, he gets a little more desperate.

“Babe, I know you think you know what you saw, but it’s not what you think. You need to call me back. Now.”

By the third message, he’s all but given up.

“Sophie, since you turned your phone off, this is gonna be my last message. I understand what you think you saw. If it was me I’d probably be pissed, too. But I wouldn’t run away from you.” There’s a pause. “You can’t hide from me forever so when you get this message, call me.”

The next voicemail is from Miranda. “Sophie, I talked to Rooter. It was all a huge misunderstanding. I think you should call him when you get this message.”

“Wow, he must’ve seriously done a number on her,” I snort.

There’s one more voicemail and I almost don’t want to listen to it.

“I’m lying in your bed,” my heartbeat quickens, “and I hate that you’re not here. I hate that you’re out there somewhere so mad at me that you won’t talk to me. Sophie, I swear to God I’d
never
do anything to hurt you. I care so much about you. Knowing that you’re sad because of me is killing me baby. Please come home and talk to me.”

It takes everything I have not to get choked up. He sounds so sincere. But isn’t that what cheaters and liars do? Play on others weaknesses and emotions? My mother did it to me until the day she died. She’d lie and do horrible things to me and then tell me how sorry she was. That she didn’t mean to do it or that, as in this case, I misunderstood something. I can’t go through that again. I won’t go through it again.

“What should I do?” I ask Ryan.

“You live next door to the guy. You’ll have to face him at some point.”

I fiddle with the phone. “Do you think it might’ve been a misunderstanding?”

“If he convinced Miranda of all people, it might have been. There’s only one way to find out.”

“Okay.” I take a deep breath. “Take me home.”

On the way to my house, I absentmindedly gnaw on my lip while trying to mentally prepare myself for what’s coming.

“You won’t have any lip left if you keep that up,” Ryan quips, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

The buildings are passing by too fast. I need this drive to last a little longer. Will Rooter and I argue? Will he be able to convince me of his innocence or is this the end? Do I even want to hear what he has to say? Words are so feeble. They can be meaningless. A person can say anything. Actions prove our intent, our loyalty, and our trustworthiness. Yesterday, he let the girl he swore he was done with put her hand and her mouth on him. He even smiled for Christ’s sake.

“It’s like a Band-Aid. Just get it over with and rip it off.”

I didn’t get much sleep last night. Every time I nodded off, I dreamt of her touching him. Kissing him. Of him enjoying it. The way he seemed to enjoy it yesterday. The way he seemed to enjoy her touching him a few weeks ago. I’m not sure this is something I can forgive, regardless of how he tries to explain or justify it. But I’m also not sure I can walk away from him. We’re barely even an “us” and already we’re at the brink of ruin.

We’re three blocks from my house. I exhale sharply and pull down the visor to check my appearance in the mirror. Of course I look like shit. My eyes are puffy, skin is blotchy. My hair is piled on top of my head in a messy bun. This is not the way I want to look when arguing with my boyfriend over being fondled by chick who’s twice as good looking as I am on my best day.

“You’re beautiful,” Ryan declares.

I flip the visor up and lean my head against the headrest as we pull onto my street. Rooter is nowhere to be seen when we pull up in front of my house. His bike isn’t in the driveway which gives me hope he might be gone.

“Thanks for everything, Ry.”

“Call me if you need anything,” he says as I climb out of the car.

I hurry to the hide-a-key rock that’s buried in our mulch bed to retrieve the key to the front door. If I can get inside without Rooter seeing me maybe I can delay the inevitable a little longer. I open the door, close my eyes and take a deep breath as I step into the house.

“Sophie,” Rooter’s worried voice gives me a jolt. Dopey comes bounding to my side.

“What are you doing in here?” I snap and throw my purse to the floor. This is
my
house.
My
sanctuary. He has no right to be in here without my permission and he most certainly doesn’t have it.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come home.” He rises from the couch and rubs the back of his neck.

“Couldn’t you have waited at your own house?” I clutch the back of the chair, angry.

Rooter ambles toward me, slow and cautious. “I was afraid you’d avoid me.”

He’s right. I would have. The dog paws at me but I’m too irritated to give him any attention.

“Sophie, I’m so sorry.”

If I went by his tone and remorseful expression, I’d believe him. But I’m going by what I saw.

“You’re only sorry you got caught.” I squeeze the fabric tighter and deliver a warning glare not to come any closer.

“That’s not true.”

“You just stood there and let her…” I mimic the way her hands groped him because I can’t say the words.

“Listen to me, I know how it looked and I’m sorry but—”

“Stop saying you’re sorry,” I scream and slam my fists on top of the back of the chair.

Rooter’s eyes go wide, and he instinctively takes a step back.

“And don’t you dare say it wasn’t what it looked like!” I point my finger at him. “You fucked up.”

Rooter takes a careful half step forward. “But, it wasn’t what it looked like, babe.”

His use of the word “babe” makes my stomach turn. I wonder how many times he called Candace “babe.” I bet he called her that every time they fucked. The mere thought of it makes me want to vomit. “Don’t call me that! I’m not your babe.”

“Yes, you are.” He reaches for me with worry etched into his features. “And I’m yours.”

“No.” I jerk away. “If you were mine, you wouldn’t have let her touch you that way.”

He clasps his hands over his head. “I should’ve handled it differently, it’s just that…”

“No justs, no buts. It should’ve never happened. How’d you like it if you saw some guy do that to me?”

His jaw clenches and there’s a spark in his eyes. “Honestly, I’d probably massacre the guy.”

“Exactly, but now I’m supposed to say, oh, don’t worry, it’s okay.”

“No, you’re not,” he sighs, impatient. “That’s why I’m trying to explain it to you.”

“Please, by all means,” I wave my hand in the air, “let’s hear why you let your ex-slut kiss you and grab your dick.”

Surprised by my choice of words, he raises both eyebrows before answering. “What she did is something she’s always done—”

I cut him off midsentence. “So since she’s always done it she might as well keep doing it? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No. Sophie,” he rubs his face, “will you please let me speak without interrupting?”

“Fine. Go ahead.”

I walk around to the front of the chair and sit cross legged with perfect posture as though I’m at a job interview. Rooter takes a seat on the couch to my right.

“I’ve known Candace all my life,” he begins. “We grew up together. Her dad was one of the original club members. When he died a few years back, she ran off with a guy from school. About a year ago, she moved back here after he nearly beat her to death. We started hooking up a few months back.

Rooter stops as though to gauge my response. When he seems to be convinced I won’t fly off the handle he continues, “We made a deal. It was just sex. No strings attached. If either of us met someone new or if one developed feelings and the other didn’t feel the same, we’d stop. So, after the night of your break in, I ended it with her. She put two and two together and figured I’d met someone. She flipped out.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “She admitted she was in love with me. Begged me to give her a chance. She threatened to kill herself. Said I’m all she has. The club is her only family. I knew that if she saw me with you, she’d lose her shit. She’s not stable. She could’ve hurt you or herself. I was taking the path of least resistance.”

“And part of that path is continuing to let her kiss and touch you inappropriately?”

“No. I told her it had to stop.”

“Then why were you both smiling?”

“What?” He furrows his brow seemingly confused.

“After she grabbed you, she said something to you that had you blushing.”

He bows his head and looks to the floor. “I don’t remember.”

“Bullshit,” I snarl and lean in close. “Do
not
lie to me or you can leave right now.”

He looks up at me earnestly. “She said to call when I realize how much I miss her.”

I shake my head. “That wouldn’t have made you blush. Tell me what she said.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “You don’t want to hear it.”

I smack the arm of the chair. “Yes, I do!”

He speaks through gritted teeth. “She said to call her when I realize how much I miss pounding her tight pussy.”

We both stare at one another for a long moment. He’s gauging my reaction and I’m trying to calm down.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Do you miss it?” I ask pointblank.

“No,” he asserts as though I should already know this.

“Of course you do! Who are you trying to fool? Me or yourself?”

He’s certainly not fooling me. Rooter is the kind of guy who gets around. The kind of guy who is used to lots of sex with lots of women. And after my little freak out the other day, he’s got to be thinking he made a mistake with me.

“You want honesty? I’ll give it to you. If sex was all I was after I’d probably be with her right now.” His words cut me to the bone and I flinch. “But that’s not what I’m after, Sophie. I want something real.” He gets on his knees before me. When he places his hands on my legs I lean back. “I never thought I’d be saying this, but I want to be with someone I can fall in love with. That’s you. I want to give you my heart and I hope you’ll give me yours.”

Chapter 21
Forgiveness

I draw in a sharp breath and blink repeatedly while Rooter stares at me with hopeful eyes. I can feel my heart reaching for him from within my chest. Did I hear that right? He wants to fall in love with me?

I want him to fall in love with me and I thought I’d fall in love with him. But Candace is a huge complication. A complication I’m not sure I can accept. I can accept that he has a past. However, I can’t accept that past being a part of his present especially if it will be flaunted right in front of my face.

Worse yet is the idea of what goes on—and what will continue to go on—between them when I’m not around. I don’t want to deal with a slutty ex-whatever constantly throwing herself at my boyfriend. But if I continue this with him that’s what I’ll be signing up for. But then I see his gorgeous face anxiously staring at me, begging for a chance. Even though I believe what he said, I’m not sure what to do.

I fall back in the chair and rub my face. Rooter’s hands grip my legs conveying his panic.

“Please don’t let one mistake ruin everything.”

“That’s just it!” I exhale sharply. “This probably isn’t even the first time something like this has happened and I seriously doubt it will be the last.”

“I’ll handle her.”

“Like you did yesterday?” I push his hands off my legs. His touch is too much. I can’t think clearly when his hands are on me.

“Sophie, please.” He sits back on his haunches.

“Your situation with her is a lot more involved than you led me to believe,” I sigh. “You’ve known her your entire life which means she’ll always be around.”

He leans forward again, but I hold my arms out to keep him at bay. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about, I promise.”

“I believed that until yesterday.”

He shifts forward again and takes hold of my hands so I can’t stop him from getting close. “I won’t let that happen again. Sophie, please give me a chance.”

I must say something, but that something can’t be yes or no because I’m far too inclined to say yes. It scares the hell out of me. “I need time to think.”

Without hesitation Rooter shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

“That’s right. No.” He leans in temptingly close. “You want to pull back and be distant and pissed off, go ahead. But I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to stay right here and prove to you that this is where I want to be.”

Utterly fucking astounded, all I can do is blink and stare him in the face which isn’t even two inches from mine. If he kissed me right now I wouldn’t stop him. I wouldn’t be able to. His close proximity is jarring my senses and ability to think.

“So you go ahead and do what you need to do,” he continues, “and when you’re done being pissed at me, let me know.”

There’s nothing I can say to that so all I do is stare at him, mouth agape.

It’s a slow night at the Grand so it gives me and Ryan time to chat while I help him clean behind the bar. I’ve just told him about my conversation with Rooter and what he said at the end.

“Nice one, Rooter!”

I immediately stop hanging wine glasses and suck in a breath. “What? Nice one?”

“Not to excuse what happened, but the man is owning up to his shit and is willing to take whatever heat you dish out. Good for him.”

“I hadn’t looked at it that way,” I admit and go back to hanging the glasses while Ryan organizes one of the beer coolers.

“I’m not happy about what happened, Soph, but I think Rooter’s a good guy with good intentions.” He comes over, lays a hand on my shoulder and looks at me with caring green eyes. “I mean, he’s never had a girlfriend. He’s bound to cock up every now and again.”

Ryan and I exit the restaurant to find Rooter sitting on his bike next to my car. I won’t admit it to him—I have a hard enough time admitting it to myself—but I’m happy to see him. His being here to make sure I get home safe proves he does indeed care for me.

“Go a little easy on him,” Ryan whispers before heading to his car.

“How was work?” Rooter asks and dismounts the Harley as I approach him. He’s wearing a long sleeve, fitted black shirt that clings to his muscular physique. When he reaches up to rub the back of his neck it lifts just enough to reveal a hint of his midsection.

God why does he have to be so perfect? It’d be a hell of a lot easier to be pissy if he wasn’t so ridiculously hot. “Slow and very boring.”

“Want to ride home with me?” He puts his hands in his pockets and he rocks back and forth on his heels.

One moment I want to reach over and pull him in for a kiss and in the very next moment, I see Candace’s mouth on him and I want to slap him. I shake my head. “I have my car.”

“I can bring you back to get it tomorrow.”

I open my car door. “I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning.”

Rooter lifts an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

“Just an annual. But it’s an early appointment so I’ll need my car.”

“Okay, I’ll follow you home.” Rooter leans in for a kiss and I turn my face and give him my cheek. I can’t have his lips on mine when all I can think about is those same lips kissing another woman.

The drive home takes forever. I’m so tired that I have to blast music and bite my tongue to stay awake. Ryan’s words keep playing in my mind reminding me I need to take it easy on Rooter. It would be different had Rooter been the aggressor in the kiss, but he wasn’t. And I need to keep in mind I’m his first girlfriend. He’s not used to having to think of another person’s feelings when women hit on him.

But it’s thoughts like this that make it worse. He probably has tons of women throwing themselves at him. Women willing to do anything and everything for just one night with him. He says he wants to have a relationship with me and we’ve only made out once. And then I remember how he said he likes that I’m different; that I make him want things he’s never wanted. He said it himself, he isn’t after sex. He’s after something real. So should I suck it up and give him a pardon or do I take a few days to digest everything?

I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts I almost drive past my house. At the last possible second, I slam on the brakes and make a hard right into my driveway nearly smashing into the trash can.

“Forget where you live?” Rooter jokes, but his voice is thick with concern.

“Wasn’t paying attention.”

We walk in an awkward silence to my door. Walking side by side without holding hands or touching in some way feels… wrong.
Does he sense it too?
I blow out a heavy breath as I unlock my door.

“I’ll be right back,” he says when I step into the house.

I whip around to face him. “Rooter, you don’t need to stay tonight. Mike won’t come around here.”

“Sophie, you don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. And so do you.” I look at my feet. “The only reason you want to stay here is because of what happened.”

“Fine, you’re right.” He lifts my chin so I’m facing him. “I told you I wasn’t going to give you space.”

He’s making this so hard for me. My stomach is in knots. I want him to come in with me and hold me through the night. But every time I look at him, I see
her.
Her bouncy blonde waves, her perfect body, her red lips pressed against his.

“No, you said you wouldn’t give me time to think. You didn’t say anything about space.”

“Well, I’m definitely not giving you space.”

He’s got to be kidding me.
I’m elated and frustrated at the same time. But who is he to decide that he’s spending the night? “Well, you can’t stay in my house without my permission.”

He lifts his chin in consternation. “I won’t let you push me away.”

“I’m not pushing you away,” I half lie with a huff. “I’m tired. I want to go to my room and go to sleep.”

“Fine, then let’s go to your room and sleep. We don’t have to talk and I won’t lay a finger on you.”

Why lay your fingers on me when you can lay them on Cand-ass?
God, these thoughts need to stop. “Rooter,” I lay my head against the door jamb, “just go home. Please.”

“That’s what you really want?” He challenges.

No. I don’t know.
“That’s what I want.”

Rooter reaches out and cups my face with his palm. “There’s really very little I wouldn’t do for you,” he says with a sad smile before walking away.

What the hell does that mean?

The first thing I do when I get to my room is close the blinds. Seeing Rooter in his room would be far too tempting. I know I’d text him and tell him to come back. No matter how much I want him here, no matter how much I want to put this whole thing behind us and move on, if I give in this soon, he won’t take me seriously. I need to put my foot down now. He needs to know how much it hurt me to see him with Candace and he needs to know I won’t tolerate that kind of behavior.

Five minutes later, I’m lying in bed staring at the ceiling wishing Rooter was here with me. I don’t want to talk and touching would be a really bad idea since it clouds my judgment, but I want him here. I want to be near him. Close enough to feel his warmth and smell his scent without any words or contact. I peek out of my blinds and Rooter’s window is dark.
Is he in his bed? Is he doing the same thing I’m doing right now?

I grip my sheets tight and exhale in frustration when I hear the wood floor creak outside my door. Miranda must be up. Maybe talking to her would help. As I sit up my door opens and Dopey trots over and pokes my arm with his wet nose. Rooter’s silhouette stands before me in the dark. Happiness, relief, and astonishment cascade over me.

“What the—” Rooter’s fingers gently brush my lips to hush me. His touch relaxes and excites me all at once.

“Remember me saying there’s very little I wouldn’t do for you?”

I nod and inhale deeply allowing his scent to envelop me.

“Well, I refuse to give you time or space.”

“So you break into my house?” I ask, trying to sound annoyed when he removes his fingers from my lips. I can’t let him know how happy I am he’s here.

He chuckles. “I didn’t break in. I used the hide-a-key.”

“I honestly don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. Let’s go to sleep.” Rooter kisses my forehead and crawls past me into the bed against the wall. I remain upright staring at him in disbelief. He pulls me into a spooning position and drapes a protective arm over me. “Good night, Sophie.”

“Good night, Rooter,” I say, hoping he can’t hear the relief in my voice.

Somehow, in the night, I must’ve turned around. When I’m woken by the sound of my alarm, I’m tucked face first into Rooter’s bare chest with our legs intertwined. His head rests on the pillow above mine. I suck in a deep breath and inhale his masculine scent. It feels so good to be in his arms. Actually, it feels better than good. It feels
right.
Rooter reaches out and shuts the alarm off. When I try to roll over I’m stopped by two strong arms pulling me tight against him.

“Stay here a little longer,” he murmurs and I happily obey. He reaches down and massages my back and I can’t stifle my moan. “I like waking up like this,” he admits.

Me, too.

“I need to get up,” I say after a few minutes.

I tear myself from the bed and rummage through my closet for something to wear while Rooter leans back against my headboard and watches me. I force myself not to stare at his perfectly sculpted chest. I bet he wouldn’t stop me if I touched him. I bet he wouldn’t stop me from straddling him and licking his neck, and collar bone, and earlobe, and…

The sound of his raspy morning voice snaps me back to reality, but I don’t know what he said. “What?”

“What time is your appointment?” He asks.

“Nine thirty.”

Rooter snickers as I pair a bra and panty set together to match my outfit and I flash back to him helping me fold them.

“Want to grab lunch afterward?” He asks and swings his legs over the side of the bed.

“What part of I’m mad at you do you not understand?”

“I understand it perfectly, babe.” He reaches for me and pulls me to stand between his legs. “What part of I’m not giving you time or space do you not understand?”

“You’re not going to be one of those possessive, clingy boyfriends are you?”

“So you’re saying you’re still my girl?” He smirks. His callused hands feel incredible as they travel up and down the backs of my legs.

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.” He chuckles as if he’s joking, but he’s being completely serious.

His touch is driving me crazy. I try desperately to keep my breathing steady, but my heart is racing. “I’m meeting Ryan after my appointment.”

His hands stop moving and his expression changes from amused to worried. “For real? Or are you blowing me off?”

“I really am meeting him,” I assure him with a smile while fighting the urge to reach out and touch his face. Rooter in the morning is a magnificent sight with his sleepy eyes and morning stubble. “We’re going shopping for Miranda’s birthday.”