Chapter Twenty-One
Roman
I looked over at the flowers in the passenger seat next to me. It had seemed like a good idea picking them up, but now, sitting outside her building, I had to wonder whether it looked like I was trying to buy her with them.
The truth was I was ready to do anything to get her back, but at the same time, I had to be honest with myself that she wasn't. I felt like we wanted the same thing when we were together. All I wanted was to stay that way, and I'd put money on her wanting that, too. There was something there, though, something standing in our way.
Me. I was what it was. Not really me, but what I did. It just became me by extension because now, Ron thought the way to make sure she never got hurt again was to avoid me. It made sense. It was the normal, rational conclusion anyone would come to after being through what she had. But right now, I needed her to stop listening to her heart and just... Fuck, just listen to me.
Listen to whatever she had inside her that meant we could still go on dates, talk, and have sex, and she could be comfortable doing it. I knew it was going to be an uphill battle with her, and I got it. Giving up just would have been easier. Not what I wanted, not satisfactory, or smart, or even what I needed to do. Just easier.
Well, this is what the fuck happens when you break something. You put it the fuck back together again, I thought, heading up to her place. I knocked and waited for her, the flowers were in my hand, hanging at my side. I wished I hadn't gotten them; they weren't going to fix this.
The door opened and there she was. The first thing I noticed was her hair. It wasn't straight this time. Soft, bouncy curls tumbling down her shoulders, the way I liked it. Her dress was simpler, white fabric coming down to just over her knees. She crossed her arms looking at me.
"Hi," she said softly.
"Hey. You look good," I said coming in. I cupped her face and kissed her. She didn't pull back or turn away, but her body language was reserved. I had seen this coming. She thanked me and invited me in. I gave her the flowers, getting a small smile out of her, but that was it before she disappeared into the kitchen to put them in a vase. I stood in her living room waiting for her to come back.
"Are you ready?" I asked her when she was out again. She moved the vase inches left, then right, then left again over and over till she was satisfied with its spot on the table.
"Yeah. Let me just grab my purse," she said. Would some enthusiasm kill her? I thought darkly. After that phone call yesterday, this was going to be hard. I knew where she stood now and it wasn't where I wanted her to be. It was my fault that she wasn't, but that didn't change that it was true. I didn't want her to be scared and uncertain when it came to me. I wanted her to feel like she could rely on me.
"Should we leave?" she asked, making for the door. I held her hand, stopping her.
"Wait. Ron," I started. She looked up at me. "What we talked about yesterday?"
"Yeah?"
"I know it's going to take more than me just telling you that you have nothing to worry about. I still want to say it, though. I need you to know that I love you, Ron, and I never stopped. This is probably more than I deserve from you, but I love you for giving me a chance. All I want is you back in my life and I am going to do whatever I have to do to deserve you again."
"It needs to happen naturally," she said to me. "We're not in the same place right now, and if it's going to work at all, then you need to allow me to catch up."
"All I want is for you to trust me again."
"Then you need to give me time to get there. I'm not going to lie and say that it will happen fast or easily, but I'm here, and I'm open to trying again. My feelings didn't fade, either. I just need to be in a place where I can feel comfortable again." She paused and sighed. "I don't know what I'm doing."
"It'll be fine. Just trust me. I want you to."
"I'll try," she said quietly, shrugging. That was all I was getting. I knew that. I didn't even have the right to try to ask for more.
"Thank you," I said, kissing her forehead.
"Where are we going tonight?" she asked once we were in the car. She hadn't complained or asked to take separate rides. That was a small win, but still meant she was putting in effort.
"I was thinking that one place we went to for Tiff's birthday that one year," I said, pulling out onto the street.
"Before you left? The Mexican place when she was turning nineteen?"
"That's the one," I said, almost proud that she remembered so well.
"Are you set on having Mexican tonight?"
"Not really. Why? You want to go somewhere else?"
She did. It was this place a lot of the guys I used to play with used to come – buffet, cheap food, as much as you wanted, a great deal for packs of hungry football players, especially when we were bulking. I had taken her before, a few times because after the first time she hadn't been mad about sharing a dining room with the kind of people who you usually found at an all you can eat buffet. Part of the territory when you're a broke college student, but we weren't slumming all the time.
As soon as we walked in, she seemed overdressed. It was a huge, badly-lit dining area with the food lining one wall. Periodically, a person in a dirty apron would come through a pair of swinging doors and refresh the food that was running out. It made me think of the cafeteria on campus, but with more screaming children and more overweight people who had to use those buggies in the supermarket.
Ron was a creature of habit. On her plate when we finally sat down were potato skins and the awful, thick, soggy crust pizza they served that she loved for some reason. Her usual. It felt good that I knew that about her, especially for those times that she felt distant and I felt like I was fighting a losing battle.
"I can't believe you still eat that shit," I quipped.
"I like my pizza with girth," she said, taking a bite out of a slice. It was bread at that point. Bread with cheese and pepperoni on it. This was part of the reason why we never got pizza together, she hated thin crust and pineapple, while I couldn't stand the thick crust. She took another bite happily.
"I can't afford to eat like this every day, let me enjoy it while I can," she said.
"If it makes you this happy, why not?"
"Long as I'm happy weighing fifty more pounds than I do now. You boys have it so good."
"Just come to the gym with me," I suggested.
"Not a chance in hell. Not again," she laughed. She worked out, she was small, but she liked to take care of herself. She did it mainly from home; those easy at-home videos you can get online. Or at least that was what she had preferred doing before. Once I had managed to convince her to come to the gym with me... Let's just say that was the last time she ever did.
"You still do those little work out videos?"
"Are you saying I need to? Are you calling me fat?" she teased.
"You're trying to get me in trouble. You know I didn't say that."
"Choose your next words wisely," she said, peeling a pepperoni slice off the pizza and eating it on its own.
"I think you look great. Just ease up on the bread. It makes you bloat." She looked shocked for a second before she noticed my smirk.
"Just for that I'm getting another slice," she said.
"Just one. I still want to be able to carry you."
"If that gets hard for you, I think you should be the one who has to do something about it," she said, smiling at me. I laughed.
"They didn't feed us enough in Afghanistan to keep my weight up."
"You can still play though, can't you?" she asked. I said that I could, and then we got into MREs. She had heard about what they were but it was a different story actually eating them and hearing about what they might be like from a person who might or might not know.
At first, I was a little cautious talking about my deployment, but she was interested in finding out. It had been the thing that had sort of spurred the breakup. I had actually done it, but if I had never had to go, who knew where our relationship would be by now. I wanted to be able to talk about it with her. In some fucked up way, it was part of our history, even though we were apart the entire time. She never ended up getting that second slice.
It was around ten-thirty when I parked in front of her building and stopped the car.
"I had fun tonight," she said. She was looking at me. Her seatbelt was off and her body was turned in the seat, knees up against the center console.
"I did, too."
"Thank you," she said flirtatiously. It was pretty warm outside, but that had nothing to do with the warmth spreading through my chest. The whole car felt like it was heating up. I touched her knee, brushing my thumb against her unblemished skin.
"Anytime," I said. She held my hand in both of hers, turning it palm up. I watched her for a few seconds, letting my hand warm between the two of hers. The movement made the skirt of her dress fall down her thigh a little. She looked up and our eyes met. We hadn't had anything to drink that night, but her cheeks were flushed and her lips parted.
"Come here," I said to her. She let go of my hand and held the back of my seat, climbing into my lap. Our lips met, hard, and I pushed my tongue into her mouth. There wasn't much foot traffic this time of night, but anyone who was curious could look through the window and probably call the cops on us for indecent exposure.
She moaned softly as our tongues collided. I ran my hands up her thighs, squeezing her ass cheeks in my palms. I wasn't going to try to fuck her in the car – we were both way too old for that – but the night had been on a steady upswing since we had gotten to the buffet. You knew a date was good when you got to a girl’s house to drop her off and she didn't want to leave. We stopped before we started fogging up the windows.
"Let me walk you up," I said, opening the door and letting her climb out first. I followed, taking her hand. Our fingers laced together like they knew that that was what they were supposed to do. I always used to hold her right hand so she was on my left; that meant I wouldn't have to let go if I needed to use it. She let go, though, because she needed hers to unlock her apartment. I walked in after her. I could pretend that I didn't want to finish what we started in the car, but I wasn't going to lie.
"Are you in a hurry?" she asked, slipping her purse off her shoulder.
"Nope. Not at all. Why?" I asked.
"I don't really want you to leave," she said after a pause. I walked over to her.
"I'll stay as long as you want me to."
"Would you leave if I asked you to do that?" There was about two feet between us.
"If you asked me to, yeah," I said, wondering where this was going. "Do you want me to go?"
"No, but you have to, don't you?"
"What? I don't have to be anywhere tonight, Ron."
"Not right now, I mean later. After you go to the combine and someone gives you a contract, and you have to relocate to play on their team," she said.
"Ron, the combine only lasts a week. Nothing after that is set in stone. I can't say any of that is going to happen. Chances are that it won't."
"Yes it will, Roman, you're a fantastic player," she said, a little annoyed like it hurt her to say it.
"Even if something did, what's wrong with that?"
"You would leave. You wouldn't be able to turn down the offer."
"I wouldn't just leave. I'd talk to you about it first. We’d figure something out."
"Just like last time?" she snapped.
"Last time was a mistake. I know I didn't do the right thing. I paid for that for a whole year, and I'm still paying for it now."
"The end result would still be the same, whether we talked or not. You'd still leave me, and I don't want that. Not again." She turned her back to me.
"Ron. Ron, please, look at me," I said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"Am I wrong?" she asked, refusing to turn around.
"I used to think that leaving had to mean the end of a relationship, too. I was wrong, Ron. Even if I did end up having to leave, we could work something out." Her head fell forward and her shoulders shook. Shit. I circled her body to face her again. She was wiping tears from her eyes.
"Where was this a year ago?" she said sadly.
I felt like shit. She had cried that time, too, but that had been because I had told her it was over and I didn't love her anymore.
"I know I fucked up. I should have come to you instead of making that decision for us."
"I felt so stupid. Like I thought we were doing so well, but then you did that and then suddenly you were gone." I was holding her before I could stop myself. She was stiff and small in my arms. She didn't fight me, though. She let me comfort her through her tears.
"I wasn't thinking. You were there for me and instead of talking to you, I took matters into my own hands and fucked everything up."
"You really hurt me, Roman," she said. Her tears were soaking into my shirt, and her voice was muffled against my chest. I squeezed her tight, kissing the top of her head.
"And, I hate myself for it, Ron. I hate what I did to you and what it did to us."
"I can't go through that twice," she said quietly. She pushed away from my chest, eyes trained on the ground. "If this is going to happen, I have to step away, Roman. If we say our goodbyes now, we-"
"No," I said, cupping her face so she looked up at me.
"Roman-"
"Veronica, please," I said. She looked down, shaking her head. "I fucked up and I made a bad decision, which lost me the woman I love. I'm not going to make that mistake twice." More tears flowed down her cheeks.
"I really want that to be true," she whispered.
"It is, baby." I kissed her softly. I just wanted to comfort her, stop her crying because I hated making her upset. It was all my fault, so it was my job to fix it. She pressed her full lips into mine again, wrapping her arms around my neck. I hugged her close. One of her hands ran down my chest, all the way down my abs to the waist of my pants.
"Will you stay with me tonight?" she asked.
"Of course. Whatever you want." Her other hand ran over my shoulder. Our eyes locked again.
"I want you," she said simply. Her hands were at the waist of my pants, pulling the belt free. She unsnapped the button, and her hand was closing around my cock through my underwear.
"Fuck," I groaned. She dropped to the ground, tugging my pants and underwear on her way down. She gripped my semi and jerked the tip, slowly. Those clear green eyes stared up at me. It had been a fucking year since I’d had my dick sucked. I hoped I could last long enough to enjoy this.