“I’d empty out the sea just so you could sink in me.”
Hayley Stumbo~
“Oh, how the righteous have fallen.” Liam snickered as he sat in the cab of my truck.
“It’s ‘oh, how the mighty have fallen’, jackass.”
Liam’s laugh had the corners of my mouth twitching, but I shook my head as he shrugged. “What the fuck ever. You were just in a strip club, little brother. You hit a stranger, and the chick you’re dating was practically wearing underwear as a uniform.” He clapped my shoulder but I shoved it off. He laughed again when I started the truck. “It’s fucking hilarious.”
I didn’t answer him and maybe it was the set of my jaw, but Liam left it alone. He was right, though. What the hell had just happened? Melissa worked at a strip club. My mind was still working through all that pink light and naked flesh. I’m not a stripper. She wasn’t, and I didn’t think it really mattered anyway, but she’d technically lied to me. She was a bartender, I told myself. A bartender in the hottest damn shorts I’d ever seen, and that top she had on… it wasn’t difficult to see what Mel was working with under that thin fabric. It was a testament to my own personal strength that I hadn’t immediately gotten hard when I’d looked at her. After I’d walked into the club, and I’d seen that asshole’s hand on her hip, every vessel in my body had quaked as the beat of my heart raged. It was barbaric, but the four letters had formed in my head, hovering in my brain like a dense fog of testosterone and idiocy. Mine. She wasn’t mine, though, and I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
I’d met her at church so I assumed a lot of things, wanted a lot of things, but Melissa had told me herself that I didn’t know her, and clearly I should’ve listened. I’d let my physical need, this strange-as-hell attraction I had for her blur all the lines I’d always held in perfect fucking rows. I liked her and I needed to focus on that instead of thinking with my dick.
I cleared my throat. “Has Kelly said anything to you… you know about—”
“Mel? No. I wonder if Kelly even knows she works at a titty bar.”
I cringed. “The way you say it makes it sound so seedy.”
“Those places are seedy, man…back room blow jobs and shit.”
I eyed him. “How do you know?”
“Keep your eyes on the road.” He sighed. “I just know.”
My eyes widened, and I was grateful I was looking straight ahead because I wasn’t sure I wanted to see his expression.
“Personally?” I asked a little incredulous.
“If by personally you mean have I had my dick sucked in the back of a strip club? Then no. But I’ve been to a few clubs, and it’s not really a secret, but yeah, that shit goes down.” He chuckled. “Am I fucking up your rose-colored glasses, little man?”
I let out a long breath. I didn’t know why but, the thought of my brother paying for sex, it got under my skin. If he’d taken advantage of a woman like that, there was no way I’d be able to look at him the same. I couldn’t imagine what a girl’s life would have to be like for her to think selling her body was her only option. Kelly sometimes would talk about the women who came into Lifeline all hooked on drugs, prostitutes so beaten up they had to be taken to the hospital. It’s terrible to think people live like that. I was so damn naïve.
“It bothers me... that she didn’t straight up tell me. Lying by omission is still lying.”
“Look, Kieran. You just met the chick. She’s not going to throw all her dirty laundry onto the table on the first date. Would you?”
My laundry wasn’t necessarily dirty, but I’d told her about my virginity. I’d trusted her enough for that. But I guess that was on me, and I couldn’t hold her to my own expectation of what I wanted her to be.
“No… I wouldn’t.”
I could hear the smile in his voice. “You really like this chick?” he asked, and I nodded, keeping my eyes on the road. “Then you have to let her open up to you when she’s ready. Not everyone wants to confess their sins like you do.” I could feel his eyes on me as he said, “If you like her, then like all of her, no one is fucking perfect. She’s going to disappoint you, and you’ll disappoint her, but hell, if she’s worth it, you’ll get over that shit. Don’t let one lie, technicality, or whatever the fuck you want to call it stop you.”
I hadn’t planned on letting it stop me. I’d meant what I’d said to her in the club. I didn’t care that she worked there, I was only pissed that she hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me. What Liam was saying made sense, though. Why would she risk her heart on a guy she’d just met? I was too easy for her, and I needed to slow myself down.
“I won’t.”
Liam relaxed into the seat. “Good. Because you’re not getting any younger, kid.”
I laughed and then winced when I tightened my grip on the wheel. My knuckles were swollen and split but I didn’t regret a thing. That guy deserved it. Piece of shit. Melissa didn’t deserve to be talked to that way just because she worked at a strip club. That asshole wished he could get a hand job from a woman like her.
“How’s your hand?” Liam asked.
“Hurts.”
He chuckled again. “I bet.”
“Don’t be too proud.”
His laugh hitched my lips into a smile. “Oh, but I am.” I chanced a glance in his direction and, even if his expression was painted with a smartass sideways smile, his eyes never lied to me. Liam was proud, and damn it if that didn’t feel pretty awesome.
As tempted as I’d been to attend the Spanish service, like I’d teased Melissa last night via text, I didn’t intrude. I’d see her tonight and tomorrow night per our little agreement. My lips stretched into a grin as I headed toward the cathedral doors. The soft murmur of voices surrounded me with each slow step. Mr. Franks and Mrs. Detwiler were deep in conversation, and I didn’t want to be rude and shove past them. Besides, Father Becker had just spoken about how the world was changing, moving too fast, and I had to admit, for a second, I’d felt like he’d been talking to me.
Shame filled my veins as I thought about how I’d asked Melissa to come home with me after our date. I couldn’t say that I hadn’t wanted her to, and I couldn’t deny that I still wished she had, but after everything that happened at the club the other night, I’d made a choice to rein myself in. I wanted her. Just thinking about what it would be like to have her poured liquid heat down my spine. She ignited forgotten temptations, setting fire to the standards I’d kept in place in order to stay chaste, in order to stay on the path I’d once believed had been my only answer. And just because I’d changed course, later than I probably should have, didn’t mean I had to throw myself into the blaze.
One step at a time.
I’d almost made it out of the church without getting trapped by Mrs. Detwiler, but when she turned and faced me I didn’t have a chance to avert my eyes. She was a nice lady and everything, but she always had a way of making me feel…
“Kieran, did you know my daughter is coming home for Christmas next month? She’s not opposed to dating an older man.”
I swallowed down my retort. Her daughter wasn’t opposed to most things, I’d heard. Guys liked to talk a big game, but the two who’d helped me organize last summer’s benefit barbecue had a lot of interesting things to say about Mrs. Detwiler’s daughter.
“I’m not sure I—”
“Now don’t be shy. You were always too shy. I used to tell your mother she shouldn’t have—”
“My mom was always big on letting us boys steer our own ships.” I gave her a half-hearted smile in hopes she’d take the hint.
“Well… that was exactly where she went wrong. I always say…”
I tuned her out as I grit my teeth. I didn’t want to hear her theories on how my mom could’ve done a better job. My mom had done what she could. Sure, she should’ve thrown my father’s ass to the curb, and maybe she should’ve put Declan in therapy sooner, instead of relying on Father Hollard, but she’d done what she’d always felt was right. Mom hated that Liam had to run the house, hated that I didn’t get to be a priest, but we all made it, we were all living and happy, and she was the one responsible for that. She’d given us everything, made us a cohesive unit. The whole “you die, I die” sort of attitude, and I’d never change a thing about it, because then I wouldn’t be… me.
Without really caring if she was finished, and not really knowing what the hell she was saying anymore, I excused myself. “Always good to catch up, Mrs. Detwiler. See you next Sunday, as usual.” I gave her a wave and walked away, letting myself feel the joy her dumbfounded expression had given me.
My eyes turned to slits as the sun spilled through the church doors. The cold air hit me in the chest as my feet hit the sidewalk. The sky was a deep, open blue, absent of clouds, which had made it even cooler. Liam had told me once when I was little that the clouds were like blankets keeping in the warmth. On cold days, if the sky was clear, the temperature dropped quickly. Today was no different, the frigid temperature crystallized my breath and made my eyes water. My fingertips were almost numb by the time I’d gotten into the truck.
I turned on the ignition and flipped the heat to high as I pulled my phone from my pocket.
Me: Can you meet me at Kangaroo Castle around seven?
I smiled down at my phone like a dumbass as I awaited her reply. I had no idea if she knew where or what Kangaroo Castle was, and I sort of hoped she didn’t. The place was just a few blocks away from the university. It was open late and pandered to the collegiate crowd. A lot of the college kids went there after getting drunk at the pub a few streets over. From outside, if you looked through the storefront windows, you’d think it was a place for toddlers, and maybe it should’ve been, the huge space was filled with blow up bounce houses. The majority of the clientele, though, consisted of adults.
Melissa: Kangaroo Castle… are you joking?
Me: Nope.
Melissa: Bounce houses? Should I bring my imaginary friend?
Me: Is she hot?
I huffed out a laugh and pictured her irritated smirk in my head. It was a sexy smirk.
Melissa: Your maturity level astounds me. You claimed two nights, all for you, and you pick bounce houses.
Me: Come on, it’ll be fun, and then I’ll cook dinner for you at my place.
I hovered my thumb over the send button. I originally was going to take her out for pizza after, to complete the whole ridiculous college date I’d never had the chance to go on, but having her all to myself, no outside distractions, a chance for her to open up, it was too tempting. I pressed send.
Melissa: Are you making me SpaghettiOs, too?
My lips spread ear to ear.
Me: I think I might surprise you… you in?
Melissa: God, help me, but I am.
Me: Seven o’clock.
Melissa: See you there.
Me: She made him smile, and it was enough… to make him feel real in a world full of fiction.
I hit send and then locked my phone. It had become a thing now, I ended every text between us with words I’d chosen only for her. I stopped worrying what she thought of them. Part of me enjoyed imagining what my words made her feel. If they scared her, made her think, made her feel… special. She was though. She was special because she was the first woman to change the season of my sentences. Thinking of her, her lips on mine, her fingers in my hair, her nails on my neck, her ass in those damn shorts from The Western, she’d turned my words into a living, breathing fire storm. Her burn had changed the color of each thought, made them speak the syllables I wouldn’t, couldn’t say aloud.
Not yet.
I took a deep breath, shifted the truck into drive, and reminded myself…
One step at a time.