He was standing in his kitchen, wearing a frilly apron and holding a spatula, one arm extended out so he could take the picture.
A mother’s work is never done.
I snorted with suppressed laughter. I messaged him back asking where he’d gotten the apron and set my phone back on Lottie’s desk.
“What’s that?” Lottie said as I resumed doing her hair. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” I said in what I hoped was a convincing voice.
“I’ll guess it begins with a Stryk and ends with an er,” Trish said, doing the patented Grant eyebrow raise.
“It’s nothing. Just let it go.” All the ladies in the room shared a collective look at my expense.
“Whatever. Just whatever.” I finished another braid and pulled the rest of Lottie’s hair into a low, loose bun and secured it with an elastic band and some pins.
“There. You’re perfect,” I said, tapping Lottie on the shoulder to tell her she could get up. She did and stood right in front of me.
“He’s a good guy. You deserve a good guy who makes you laugh.” She grinned and went to admire her hair in the mirror with Trish and Audrey.
I just nodded. He was a good guy, but I didn’t deserve him at all.
***
“Okay, you two need to stop taking up all the cute. Leave some for the rest of us,” Trish said as Brady and Simon argued about what kind of pasta they were going to share at the restaurant. Brady was shorter than Simon, but just as adorable with blond-tipped hair and a preppy fashion sense. They held hands, swinging them as they walked, and I couldn’t help but smile. I was still laughing to myself about Stryker’s little picture message. Already this ‘group hang’ was turning out much different than I expected.
When Will had suggested the place I hadn’t objected, but being in the same restaurant I’d once been to on a date with Zack turned out to be a not so great idea the minute I walked in, and then my smile about Brady and Simon froze on my face. Shit. I’d been doing so well.
Stryker’s hand rested lightly on my back as we went inside. “I hope I’m supposed to ask you if you’re okay tonight, because I’m going to. Are you okay?”
“Not really. But keep that to yourself. Please.” I looked over my shoulder at him and met his eyes. He toyed with his lip ring and that made me think about kissing him.
“Sure thing.”
We pushed three small tables together to get all of us in. Simon wouldn’t settle for us being in separate booths. The waitress turned out to be a girl from my anthro class, but I couldn’t remember her name until I read “Carrie” on her nametag.
It was complete chaos with everyone talking at once and she looked overwhelmed. Of course they had all engineered it so I had Stryker on one side and Lottie on the other. Trish was right across from me and looking grumpy about the fact that she was the only one who didn’t have “someone”‘ Stryker’s foot kept bumping against mine under the table and I knew it was deliberate, so I banged my foot against his, only harder. I had heels on, so if worse came to worse, I could always stab him with one.
It was completely different from the last time I’d been here with Zack, and I tried to relax and let myself sink into the moment.
“Be nice,” he muttered at me when Carrie brought our drinks. He ordered a beer since he was the only one who was old enough. “Want a sip?”
“No, thanks.”
“So I think we should toast,” Simon said, standing up. Brady tried to get him to sit down since the entire place was staring at us, but he wouldn’t.
“I think we need to toast to friends and good people and love and…anyone?”
“New beginnings,” Will said as he stared at Audrey.
“To Rumi and escapes and Pop Tarts,” Lottie said, winking at Zan.
“Okay, sure. Anyone else?” Simon said, looking around.
“To drugs and sex and rock and roll,” Stryker said, raising his beer mug.
“I second that,” Trish said, raising her glass. Stryker put his other hand on my leg and squeezed.
“To a**holes getting put back in prison where they belong,” I said. Everyone cheered at that and we drank.
I was pretty sure the restaurant was regretting letting us sit down because we were the loudest group in the place. Volume control wasn’t one of our strong suits as a group.
I hated to admit it, but Lottie had the right idea. It was impossible not to smile and laugh when Simon started doing impressions of Will and then Lottie and when Stryker kept making silly little comments that only I could hear.
“Will is going to touch Audrey’s hair in three, two, one. See?” He was right. Audrey blushed as Will made sure her hair didn’t fall into her pizza.
“And Simon is going to kiss Brady in three, two, one.” There was a collective ‘aw,’ when they did kiss. Even Trish had a wistful look on her face.
“How are you doing?” It was a different question than asking if I was okay.
“I can truthfully say that I’m enjoying myself,” I said.
“I can tell.”
“Don’t.” He’d been walking his hands up and down my leg. Not in a sexual way, but in a way that told me he was aware that I was sitting next to him and he wanted me to be aware of it, too. I’d told him to not be an a**hole, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to treat me like…like we were dating.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, marching his fingers as if they were feet.
“Stryker, stop it.” I made sure I wasn’t looking at him when I said it so no one would get any ideas.
“Fine.” He removed his hand and started drumming it on the table with the rhythm of the song that played over the speakers hidden behind tacky plastic plants that were supposed to look like olive vines. “Then I’ll tell you that it’s not just the sex.”
“What?” Everyone else was distracted by Will and Lottie team-telling a story about how they were when they were growing up and she knew he’d fallen out of a tree. That twindar really freaked me out.
I looked up to meet his eyes. He’d been waiting for that.
“It might not just about the sex, although that is nice.” I stared at him and then my eyes moved down to his lips. The memory of kissing him that first time and feeling his lip ring press into my mouth was fresh and delicious.
I’d been afraid of that. The moment this crossed into boyfriend/girlfriend territory, I was going to bail.
“It has to be this way, Stryker,” I said, touching his lip ring and remembering how nice it felt to talk to him and listen to him sing.
“But we can talk. And I can sing to you. And paint your nails, right?” he said.
I nodded. I’d miss those things too much.
“Good.”
Chapter Six
Stryker
After the group thing Katie relaxed her rules a little bit. I didn’t mind her constant rule changes because they never stuck for that long. She got mad when I asked her to write them down one afternoon while I was working on Zan’s present for Lottie, a 1970 red Datsun we’d bought for next to nothing.
“I just think we need to set some rules when it comes to sex. What is so crazy about that?” I lifted my head from the engine I was cajoling into both running and passing a state inspection. Katie’d been sitting in the driver’s seat with the door open, wrapped up in a blanket. November was turning out to be especially harsh in Maine this year.
“Because it’s just weird. It makes it into something that it’s not,” she said.
“Then what is it? To you?”
I took my gloves off and blew on my hands.
She shook her head, as if she’d changed her mind. “I don’t know. I was just saying.”
“No, I knew what you were doing. I find it interesting, Katie, that you can have casual sex, but you can’t really talk about it.”
“Whatever. Forget about it.”
“Like, for example what would you say if I wanted to go down on you? Or kiss your stomach? Or even just take it slow? Not that angry revenge sex isn’t great.” I’d tried all of those things, but she’d always stopped me.
“Angry revenge sex?”
I sighed and closed the hood of the car. I wasn’t going to get anything more done today until we got everything out in the open.
“You have sex with me because you’re hurt and you’re mad and you’re looking for a distraction. You even said so yourself. A physical distraction.”
“And your point is?”
I leaned on the door and stared down at her.
“My point is that just because you say you’re going to have casual sex with no attachment, that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”
She pulled the blanket tighter. “So, what? You want to be my boyfriend now?”
I shook my head. I’d really walked into that one. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Forget it. You hungry?” I grabbed my tools and started to walk back upstairs, but she stopped me.
“I can’t do non-angry revenge sex. I can’t. I can barely do…whatever this is we’re doing. Not after everything with Zack.”
I put the tools down and swung to face her.
“See? That’s your problem. I’ve told you. I’m not him. Stop treating me like I’m going to beat the shit out of you and leave you in a f**king parking lot. I’ve never hit a woman. Not even Trish. You think that everyone is going to screw you over. It’s a bad way to live, sweetheart.”
She glared at me. “Aren’t you? Aren’t you going to screw me over?”
“I might. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let me in. You have some really good people in your life and all you do is wait for them to hurt you instead of enjoying it. God, I don’t know how you got started on this f**ked-up path, but I wish I could kick his teeth in.”
“What about you? You show me your suicide scar and tell me that you’ve tried more than once? What the f**k is up with that?” We were both in each other’s faces.
“Do you really want to know? Because I thought we weren’t doing that heart-to-heart shit. If you want to know, I’ll tell you.”
She jutted her chin out and met my eyes.
“I want to know.”
“Fine, but let’s go inside. I’ll make you some coffee.” Her teeth had started to chatter.
She nodded and let me lead her inside. I got her on the couch with another blanket and a hot mug of coffee in her hands before I sat down next to her.
“So, where do you want me to start?” She swirled the cup and stared into it.
“What were you like as a kid?”
We were starting at the beginning. They said it was a good place to start, but not for me.
“My parents were both drug addicts. Meth heads. They had a lab in our basement. Trish and I used to play with some of the equipment. It’s a miracle the place didn’t blow up. There were always people coming and going and I remember not eating a whole lot. Dad split pretty early on and Mom was high or drunk or both most of the time.”