chapter 22

shine

“Do you know where you’re taking her, Trevor?”

This is the first time I’ve seen my dad since he told me the news of his impending divorce from my mother. He’s not as tired looking as he was. In fact, he looks well-rested and at ease as he sits across from me on the couch. The bags he had underneath his eyes have disappeared, and the color has returned to his face. He looks like my dad again and I’m glad to see it. I was so worried that, in her anger, my mother would drag him down with her. Realizing that I’m staring at him, I think back to his original question. Where the fuck am I going to take Ronnie? I want to impress her, but I also want tonight to be the best night of her life. We’ve seen and done just about everything Evergreen has to offer, so I was considering driving to Denver. Ronnie rarely goes there, despite the fact the drive is less than an hour.

“I’m not sure, Dad.” God, do I feel young discussing my date with him. “I was thinking about driving into Denver.”

“There’s a lot of great places there. Do you know what kind of food Ronnie prefers?”

I’ve seen Ronnie eats lots of things but I’m not sure what her favorites are. Most of the time, she shops for groceries depending on her budgets and what’s on sale at King Soopers. “I’m not sure,” I finally say. “I was thinking about taking her someplace with a ‘romantic’ atmosphere.” To get her in the mood for later. I just want tonight to be as nice as possible.

Dad stares at me for a long moment before a smirk appears on his face. “Trevor, you don’t have to be so nervous. She’s already your girlfriend, so you don’t need to worry about winning her over.”

“It’s not that,” I mutter.

“Oh.” Now Dad gives me a knowing grin. “So, tonight’s the night.”

My face is quickly aghast and I look away. This is so fucking awkward. He doesn’t need to know I’m going to try to bang Ronnie tonight. I run my right hand nervously through my hair, avoiding eye-contact at all costs. I don’t know what my problem is; it’s not like my dad believes I’m still a virgin or some shit like that. He knew I came home at odd hours of the morning during high school. Even though he turned a blind eye to my fucking around, it wasn’t like he didn’t know what was happening.

“Go to Guard and Grace on California Street. I’m sure Ronnie will love it.”

I smile, happy he’s not giving me any other type of advice. I thank him before heading out to my truck. I pause long enough to Google the restaurant’s number and call ahead to make a reservation for tonight. I want to have ample time to get home and clean-up. Quinton and Eden are keeping Grey for the evening. I’d feel strange leaving my son with a couple I’ve only known for a brief time but being Ronnie’s family, I know I can trust them implicitly. Besides, I gave them multiple ways to contact me in case of emergency. They laughed at how flustered I was, but I’ve never left him alone with someone other than his grandmother and Ronnie. As much as I love having the little guy around all the time, I didn’t need him crashing my date.

I think about Ronnie on the short drive back to my apartment. Her beautiful face, the curves of her body, and her smile which lights up any room she enters. I allow my thoughts to drift further on the “ungentlemanly” side. Like when I got a the few glimpses of the sexy curve of her plump tits and the one time she bent over, completely unaware of how her dress rode up just enough for me to see her panties. I lick my lips at the thought and feel my cock start to throb against the zipper of my jeans as my imagination runs wild. I dream of what her voluptuous body must look like without any clothing. I bet it’s beautiful, creamy, and flawless. I can’t wait to get her naked and feast on her. When my erection begins to get uncomfortable, I direct my thoughts someplace a little tamer.

I want tonight to be perfect, but I also don’t want to force Ronnie into doing anything she’s not comfortable with. As much as I want her in every possible way, I won’t force her into doing something she’s not ready for. I’ve never had a romantic relationship, so I have no idea how to time this shit. How soon is too soon? In pretty much all my past “experiences” with women, we rushed directly into sex. I never cared enough for any of them to take them on a date first, nor did they ask for anything from me. I was a whore, they were all easy sluts. Therefore, taking them out on a date first wouldn’t have really made a difference. We all wanted sex, why put a pretty bow on it and pretend it’s something it’s not?

I’ve never felt ashamed of my past until I met Ronnie. Only then did I realize how fucking disgraceful it was. Even though I enjoyed myself at the time, if I’d known I’d meet such an incredible girl one day, I’d never would’ve fucked around with that many women. I’d take it all back if I could. My past makes me feel like a douchebag, and Ronnie deserves so much better than that. She deserves someone better than me. However, I’m who and what she wants. How strange and fucked up is that? Even now, I can’t wrap my head around the fact that she wants me as much as I want her.

Right when I get home, I jump straight in the shower. The images of her that played in my head on the ride home still have me riled up. Taking that into consideration—and the fact that I might have to behave tonight—I’ll need to get myself off at least once. I’ll behave tonight, or at least, until she tells me not to. My muscles relax under the hot water, which is welcomed after a day of feeling tense. I run a bar of soap over my body, imagining it was Ronnie’s hands doing it instead of mine. With her hands in mind, I trail my hand down my body until I’m gripping my throbbing cock. It doesn’t take long for me to find my release, especially since my sexy-ass girlfriend is the star of my fantasies. I come on the tiles of the shower wall and close my eyes as the euphoria washes over me. I wash my hair and rinse the suds off my body before stepping out of the shower, realizing if I spend any more time in the bathroom, Ronnie will be wondering where the fuck I am.

As soon as I have a towel wrapped around my hips, I begin styling my hair. It doesn’t take long for the agitation to seep back in as my mind reels with all the possibilities of how I could fuck-up tonight. I don’t know why I’m so fucking antsy because Ronnie is, after all, my girlfriend. It’s not like she’ll dump me after one bad date, or at least, I don’t think she would. Putting this much effort into something makes me feel so exposed. If I actually try to achieve something, I might fail. I think if I disappoint Ronnie, the feeling of rejection will be more painful. Failure and rejection is inevitable when it comes to me. I’m so invested in her already, I know that if things don’t work out, it’s going to fucking gut me.

After several attempts at trying to tame my unruly hair—which could definitely use a cut—and a thorough shaving off my five o’clock shadow, I decide this is as good as it’s going to get for tonight. I cleaned up fairly well and realize this is as “handsome” as I’m ever going to look. Unlike Dean, I’m not a fucking “pretty boy” by any stretch of the imagination. I’m certain I’m too rough to really be considered handsome. It’s not just the tattoos because people were shying away from me long before I had any ink. I suppose it could be my strong features and dark green eyes that cause people to keep their distance. That’s one reason I’m surprised Grey warmed up to me the way he did. And Ronnie, too, for that matter. Most girls just look at me as someone they want to fuck, not as someone to take home to their family.

I take one final look in the mirror, running my finger over the scar that runs symmetrically over the corner of my left eyebrow. I smile as I remember earning that scar in a fist fight with Dean. It wasn’t anything too serious—but we were beating the shit out of each other. He punched me and his nails gouged into my skin deep enough to cut me, therefore causing the jagged scar. I’d forgotten about it because I rarely look at my reflection in the mirror. This must be the first time I noticed it since Dean’s death. It’s like a little piece of him is still with me. This scar is by far my favorite mark on my body. It’ll always remind me of him—as well as the masterpiece on my back.

Noting the time, I hurry up and finish getting ready, knowing that if I don’t pick up Ronnie soon we’ll be late for our reservation. I throw on a black button up shirt and black slacks because I know the color puts all the focus on my tattoos. I roll up my sleeves and leave the top button of my shirt undone to show off the black and gray lotus flower I dropped a good chunk of money on a few years back. I’m hoping I look good enough for Ronnie. Although, I’m sure whatever I do, she’ll manage to outdo me completely.

As soon as I cross the hall to “pick up” my date, all my suspicions are confirmed. Not a single person is going to look at me when I’ve got this fuck-hot woman on my arm. Ronnie looks absolutely incredible. I close my mouth to avoid looking like a complete imbecile because my jaw dropped open like a cartoon character as soon as she opened the door. Her black dress is so tight it fits her like a second skin. I want nothing more than to peel it off her and end the night before it’s begun. The dress makes her tits look amazing and her legs look a mile long. I can’t stop the dirty thoughts from running through my head as I gaze at her.

“Do I look all right?” Ronnie asks with a nervous giggle.

Is she being serious? I give her an incredulous look before assuring her, “You look sexy, baby. Very sexy.”

She’s shy all of a sudden. I can’t fathom why; she’s beautiful inside and out. I reach for her hand and pull her out into the hallway, bringing her soft body against mine. Her curves rub against me in all the right ways and I feel my cock begin to harden in my pants again. I bring my lips down to meet hers and kiss her with a well contained passion. I know if I don’t keep myself under control, she’ll be on her back before she knows it. With what little cool I have left, I pull away and promise her “later” before ushering her down the hallway.

We drive to the Guard and Grace in Denver with our windows down, letting the crisp, early fall air flow through the truck. It helps ease the sexual tension that’s building between us. Despite the cold air, I can feel the warmth radiating off her body and I wonder if she wants me as desperately as I want her. She turns her head and smiles at me and if I weren’t driving, I wouldn’t be able to look away from her. I take her hand and hold it over the console, watching her out of the corner of my eye as she sways along to the classic rock that’s softly playing through the speakers. I take a deep breath, wanting to remember this perfect moment. The cold air stings my lungs and a smile tugs on my lips as I realize this is the happiest I’ve ever been. I have a girl I’m in love with who wants to be with me and a son who’s my heart—the center of my universe. I don’t think my life could feel any fuller.

As soon as we pull up street side in front of the steakhouse, my girl perks up in her seat. I can tell she’s impressed and I can’t help the smug smile that appears on my face. It feels fucking fantastic to know I made her happy. I lean across the console, intending to quickly kiss her—but the kiss lasts far longer than expected. If it weren’t for a horn blaring, we probably would’ve remained in the truck making out all night. 

“You go ahead,” I tell her with a smile. “Go wait inside and I’ll go park.”

She kisses me one last time before sliding out of the truck and when the car behind me honks again, she flips him the bird before curtseying and continuing onto the restaurant. I smile as I watch her ass sway back and forth as she walks away before putting the car in drive and moving before the dickhead behind me has an aneurysm. I park on the street and hurry inside—not appreciating the chilly air without Ronnie at my side to warm me up. I can see the restaurant’s modern interior design from the street and it’s fucking gorgeous. It’s obvious—by the looks of it—that it’s going to be expensive, but I want to make this night a special one. I don’t really give a fuck how much it costs. I want my girl to feel like the princess she fucking is. I find her waiting by the hostess stand, gazing around the restaurant with wide eyes and an impressed smile.

“This is incredible, Trev,” she whispers with a child-like grin as I lead her to the podium to claim our reservation.

The hostess’s eyes widen as she takes in the sight of me. If her appraising look is good or bad—I don’t know. I tell her my name, and she almost sputters a response. I swear it’s like some of the women I deal with have never seen a man in their entire fucking life.

“Right this way, Mr. Warren,” the young hostess says while giving me a speculative look.

I always get a kick out of being called “Mr. Warren.” It makes me feel so much older and more mature. I know I’m twenty-four and I should be used to the feeling, but so many people take one look and sum me up as someone who’s not responsible and not worth their fucking time. I’m so thankful Ronnie was never judgmental. If she was—I probably wouldn’t be here with her tonight. I’d be crushing on her from afar, hoping one day she’ll notice me the same way I do her.

As we’re ushered to our table, I take in the crowd. The dining room is gorgeous and filled with—what looks to be—the wealthiest fucking populates of the city of Denver. The men regard my girl in appreciation and when they finally acknowledge me—her fucking boyfriend—their eyes squint in disgust. The women on the other hand, look at me with a very different emotion in their eyes. I know lust when I see it because it’s often how I look at Ronnie. I ignore them, and spend my time serving up death glares to anyone that dares to look at my girl. Thankfully, we’re seated at a nice table in the corner, far removed from the assholes who were checking her out. And now that I can sit down and block Ronnie from everyone else’s view—I feel a hell of a lot better. Those pricks can see my back and nothing else. They’re old enough to be her father for fuck’s sake. While my fighting days are behind me—I don’t want to spend the duration of my date wanting to strangle a bunch of old fucking geezers.

“So, what do you think of this place?” I ask, wanting to make sure she’s okay with my choice for the night. It’s a step up from our usual chain restaurants, that’s for damn sure.

She stares at the menu for a moment, looking concerned as if she’s wondering whether I can afford this or not. “It’s great,” she finally says with a somewhat sincere smile. I know she loves it, but she’s obviously uncomfortable with how expensive it is. She’s worth every penny. “It’s just so fancy,” she continues as she peeks up at me from over her menu.

I chuckle at her adorable smile and shake my head. “Well, I thought my beautiful girlfriend deserved to go someplace nice.” She blushes and looks down at her lap, another smile playing on her lips. “Besides, I put some cash aside just so I can take you out. I just wanted to treat you like a princess, I guess.” While it sounds cheesy, it’s fucking true. “I wanted to make tonight special for you.”

“It is,” she says seriously as her eyes bore into mine. “It was going to be special no matter what you had planned. I’m having a wonderful time already, Trev.”

I love how she says my name, so softly, as if I’m all fucking hers.

“I don’t think you realize how special you are to me. Seriously, Ronnie. I’ve never been good about putting my emotions into words—but you mean everything to me.”

Her doe-eyes are glistening with emotion and a small smile is tugging on her lips as if she’s trying desperately to keep herself composed. Finally, she bites down on her lip and runs a shaky hand through her curled hair. “Trev, I do realize that—and I feel the same about you. You’re all I think about; all I—”

Our waiter for the evening unintentionally cuts her off. I shoot him a death glare out of impulse because he ruined such an intimate moment. I sit back in my seat and sigh—trying desperately to not pay any mind to the bottle he’s holding in his hand. He presents it to us, but I’m not listening. I stare off into space and try my damnedest not to think about how wonderful one sip of alcohol would fucking taste. My mouth grows dry just thinking about it. As a result, I grab the small glass of water to take a drink—nearly knocking it over in the process. I don’t dare look at Ronnie. I don’t want to see the look of concern I know will be in her eyes. Despite temptation being practically shoved down my throat, I take a deep breath and focus all my energy on the beautiful girl sitting across from me. I’m desperate to not allow alcohol’s power over me to ruin our evening.

He asks for our drink order and when I say we’ll stick with our waters, he gives me a disdainful look. It’s the look that so many servers give when they feel they aren’t going to make jack shit off a table. I understand that look because I used to be a server myself back in California. Whenever someone would order two entrees and two waters—I knew my tip would be about four bucks if I was lucky. Of course, I’d been high all of the time back then and messed up my orders constantly—so I barely made a dime waiting tables. Despite my understanding of the look, it still bothers me. It’s as though he’s summed me up already and will be adjusting his service accordingly. I grab the drink menu and take a quick once-over, knowing most of the options aren’t really options for me. Finally, I come across the non-alcoholic drinks at the very bottom.

“We’ll have two espressos as well, thank you,” I say somewhat spitefully.

As soon as the waiter walks off, Ronnie straightens in her seat and asks, “What was that all about?”

“Nothing,” I shrug, not wanting my quick temper to ruin our night. “I just didn’t like the way he was looking at me.”

“He’s an asshole,” Ronnie agrees, surprising me with her language. She’s not one to curse, but when she does it’s fucking hot. “He’s probably just jealous,” she smugly states.

I snort at her assessment. “Jealous of what?” How hot my girlfriend is? I’m sure the whole room is feeling that sort of jealously, then.

“He’s probably just jealous of how hot you are.” She winks at me. She’s never called me hot before! I’m still reeling from her words when she continues, “Actually, I’m just a little annoyed with his timing. What I wanted to tell you was how important you are to me, too. You and Greyson are my world, Trev.”

“You’re my world, too,” I say without hesitation. “If it weren’t for you and Grey… I don’t know what type of man I would’ve turned out to be. When I’m with you, I feel better. I feel like you allow me to be a better version of myself. You see the man in me that I never imagined I could be.”

“You’re a good man,” she says, her voice heavy with conviction. “You’re too hard on yourself. Yet, you’re such a wonderful father, and such an amazing boyfriend. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

My heart swells at her words. Judging by her opinion of me now, I can’t help but wonder what she’d think about the man I once was. He wasn’t a hero. Hell, he wasn’t an anti-hero either. The man I once was… wasn’t anything. You couldn’t put a label on me because nothing I did fucking warranted one. I just existed and thrived off of harming myself. If Ronnie knew the person I had been, maybe she’d understand why I have to be hard on myself. I fear that if I start lightening up on myself, I’ll fall right back into my old, shitty habits.

The waiter returns with our drinks. I take a sip of my espresso, pretending as though I’ve had something other than shitty ass coffee my entire life and that I actually have some knowledge of fancy-ass espresso drinks. Truly, though—I have no idea what espresso is supposed to taste like, but I imagined it would taste… better. This tastes like bitter—but expensive—garbage.

As the waiter gets ready to take our order, I quickly encourage Ronnie to get whatever she wants on the menu. Ronnie being Ronnie, doesn’t want to order anything too expensive, like a steak, and settles on Scottish Salmon. I can’t tell whether she ordered it because it sounded good to her or if she ordered it because she wanted something moderately priced. I guess I now have money to get us a nice dessert. And then maybe later—if I’m lucky—she’ll be my dessert, as well.

I’m off in fantasy-land—where Ronnie’s naked pussy is in my face—when the waiter gives me an expectant look. “We’ll take the Maryland Crab-cakes as a starter, and I’ll have an eight-ounce New York Strip for my entrée and a Loaded Baked Potato for my side.” The waiter smiles, obviously pleased with the amount of our bill so far.

As soon as we’re alone, we fall into an effortless conversation as we sip our espressos. Conversations are always easy with Ronnie—even for an introvert like me. We can go from one topic of conversation to the next so seamlessly. It’s as if we were the same person, or two people who’ve known each other their whole lives. Maybe our souls have known each other for a long fucking time. I’ve just never met someone I wanted to open up to and bear my soul to. Of course, there’ll be no soul bearing tonight. Only easy conversations about our hobbies—which for me is taking care of a baby and for her it’s writing a children’s book—and our love for all things geeky. She seems impressed that a “guy like me” used to be into those sorts of things, but I assure her, I’m full of surprises.

Our starters arrive but we’re so deep in conversation, we barely notice our waiter coming and going. I can’t take my eyes off her as we begin to dig in. I gaze at her as though if I looked away for one second, she’d disappear, and I’d discover this night isn’t real. It does seem like a dream, but I know it’s because I’m with Ronnie. She makes everything feel like a fucking fantasy. We finish our starters and begin to discuss movies as we wait for our entrées. She’s hilarious because she’ll love these mainstream, romantic comedies one day, and then she’ll like the most obscure and horrific shit the next. I’m thrilled she’s so into science fiction and horror because most girls can’t stomach that shit. However, she isn’t most girls; she’s my girl.

“Don’t look so shocked, Trev. I told you before, my dad really would watch those movies with me growing up. How’d you think I heard about most of them?”

She’s got a point, it’s not like she was alive in the 1970s to know which horror films were amazing, but ill-received back then. While part of me is terrified to meet her father—part of me is also excited to meet the man who introduced this girl to Alice, Sweet Alice and Night of The Lepus.

“So, what’s your dad like?”

“Well, you’ll be meeting him soon enough, so I suppose you’d want to know,” she says somewhat teasingly.

I nearly choke on my water. “How soon is ‘soon’?”

Ronnie giggles and leans back in her seat, jutting her tits out in my direction. “Not that soon, so don’t look so terrified. My dad’s a good man, I promise. He’s busy with work right now—but he’ll come up to see me eventually. When he does, he’ll want to meet my boyfriend.”

Okay, so not that soon. “What does your dad do for a living?”

“He’s a fire chief in Austin, Texas,” she answers with a proud smile.

A fire chief and a Texan… Well, this is fucking great. I hope a man like that will like me. “He sounds really cool,” I respond, not wanting to sound too worried.

“He is. And he’ll love you, Trev.”

Before she continues to prattle on about her dad—which I love to listen to since I’m curious about the most important man in her life—the waiter serves our entrées. We take one look at our food and dig right in—talking to each other between bites. The food is incredible; I can easily see why it’s so damn expensive. It’s worth every penny I’ll pay for it. As we eat our dinner, I notice that night seems to be falling early. It’s just past six o’clock in the evening and it’s nearly pitch-black outside. I noticed it started to drizzle earlier, but as soon as I hear the wind start to pick up, I know a storm is brewing. Of. Fucking. Course. Ronnie shivers as she looks out the restaurant’s windows at the promise of severe weather.

Reaching across the table, I take her hand in mine. “Are you afraid of storms, baby?”

She blushes and shakes her head—which I know is a weak attempt at masking her emotions. As much as I would like to have dessert, I flag down our waiter for the check instead. Ronnie’s still staring out the restaurant’s windows, her nerves apparent on her beautiful face. I just want to get her into bed and “comfort” her. We quickly finish our food and I pay—leaving the waiter a generous tip, despite the shit way he treated us at first. Ronnie’s antsy to leave and I don’t blame her because I’m ready to bounce, too. It looks horrendous outside.

“Ronnie, everything will be okay,” I say as I rub comforting circles against her palm with my thumb. “Besides, you’ve got me to comfort you.” I wink and she blushes.

“Sir.” I look up to find a worried looking hostess, her eyes dart skittishly between Ronnie and me. “A really bad storm has moved in from the west and some of the roads are beginning to flood. Our manager has made the decision to close early this evening. I’m sorry for any inconvenience this may cause you.”

I look around and find the other patrons paying and heading out. “That’s fine. We were about to head out anyway.” I stand up and walk around the table to help Ronnie out of her chair. She smiles at the gesture before I take her hand in mine and lead her to the door.

It’s pouring by the time we get outside. I pause at the door to keep her out of the rain. She put so much effort into looking fucking sexy for our date tonight; I don’t want the rain to mar that. “Just wait here and I’ll pull the truck around and pick you up!” I yell over the sound of the downpour as I zip my leather jacket all the way up to protect me from the harshness of the autumn cold. She rolls her eyes at me and gives me the sweetest fucking smile. Although, she’s obviously frightened by the storm—I know she must hate looking weak.

“I’ll be fine, Trev. Let’s make a run for the truck together. It’s not like you parked far away. I can see your truck from here.”

I give her a dubious look before shrugging my shoulders. I guess if she wants to get nice and wet for me, I won’t stop her. I take her hand tightly in mine as I gaze out at the downfall. It pounds against the pavement in an unrelenting manner. I look back to her and the expression on her face shocks me. She’s smiling. She looks fucking exhilarated. She squeezes my hand and I yell over the sound of the rain, “On the count of three we’ll make a run for it together.” She throws her head back and laughs before nodding and counting with me. “One! Two! Three!” We take off running as fast as we can toward my truck.

I keep my eyes on my truck as I run, with her hand safely laced with mine. I can hear the sound of her laughter as it rises over everything else. She sounds so happy and carefree. I wish I could bottle the sound and listen to it forever. As soon as we reach my truck, I open the passenger door for her and help her inside. With my hands on her waist, I hoist her into my ride but find that it’s hard to let go. My hands can’t help themselves, they run from her waist to the curves of her hips and squeeze. A small moan escaped her lips before I bring them to meet mine. I don’t care that the rain is pouring down on me and soaking the upholstery of my truck because all I fucking want is her. All I want is this moment. Lightning strikes the ground causing Ronnie to jump in my arms. I pull away, quickly shutting her door and running around the front to get into the driver’s seat.

Ronnie’s giggling as she looks down at her outfit. She leans forward to check her makeup in the rearview mirror. She finds makeup is smeared all over her face. Now that she’s wet, her dress clings to her body like a second skin, allowing me to see every delicious curve she has. Seeing her like this—in close quarters with the possibility of sex on the horizon—I wonder how I’d stayed away from her for so long. I watch her chest heave as she tries to regulate her breathing. I can’t help but stare, transfixed by the way her tits jiggle a little with every breath. I want nothing more than to pull the top of her dress down and wrap my mouth around one of her perfect, pink nipples. They’re so pebbled up they’re straining through the fabric of her dress, obviously chilled by the rain. I know my mouth could easily warm them up.

I can feel that she wants me, too. Her need is palpable, and her gaze is trained on my body. She’s worshiping me with her eyes as I worship her with mine. Her lustful look alone is enough to cause my cock to come alive in my pants. It’s throbbing against the zipper, begging to be released and she hasn’t even touched me yet. Lust fills the air like electricity crackling. We eye-fuck each other for a long time, as if we were asking ourselves if we’re really doing this. That moment ends for both of us at the same time when our lips meet, our bodies crashing together. She tastes as fucking amazing as she looks and feels better than any fantasy I’ve ever had. As much as I want to take her right here and now—making love to her until she’s shouting my name—I know we can’t do it here. I’m not going to let our first time together be in my truck parked outside a fucking restaurant. So, we kiss slowly, yet hungrily until the rain slows down. Which leaves my cock throbbing at the thought of what the night has in store for us.