Rock Chick Regret
Page 20
I lifted my head again and looked at Ralphie who was still at the window.
“Nothing,” Ralphie replied.
I put my head back on Buddy’s thigh as Buddy muttered under his breath, “Jesus.”
My mind was occupied with Veronica’s episode-to-episode dilemma.
See, Veronica was torn between Duncan, the high school class president good boy and Logan, the high school ne’er-do-well bad boy. Personally, I was kind of rooting for the bad boy because he was great at delivering a one-liner. However the good boy was so sweet. The wildcard was Weevil, the leader of a high school, car-stealing, Hispanic, biker gang. I thought Veronica had good chemistry with Weevil and Weevil had great eyelashes and fantastic tattoos.
Therefore, my mind on Duncan, Logan and especially Weevil, I didn’t have time for Ralphie’s antics.
I heard, but didn’t pay much attention to, Ralphie leaving the room.
I heard, but didn’t pay much attention to, Ralphie opening the front door.
Lastly, I heard, but didn’t pay much attention to the murmur of male voices. Ralphie and Buddy had a big g*y posse and this g*y posse showed up loads, usually this degenerated into copious French martinis or lemon drops or cosmos and impromptu viewings of Auntie Mame (the Rosalind Russell version, not the Lucille Ball version) or Steel Magnolias.
Alternately, this could degenerate into a round of arm wrestling. It was anything goes at Ralphie and Buddy’s house.
“Look who finally came in from the cold,” Ralphie announced and my head came up when Buddy muttered, a lot louder this time, “Jesus.”
I stared, mouth open and everything, at Hector “Oh my God” Chavez standing in Buddy and Ralphie’s living room.
He was wearing jeans, black boots, a flannel shirt (untucked) and you could see his white t-shirt at the open collar. His thick, black hair needed cutting and he needed a shave.
He’d never looked better.
I kept staring as Buddy gently pulled me up to a seated position then stood up slowly and Ralphie started the introductions.
“I’m Ralphie and this is my lover Buddy and I think you know Sadie,” Ralphie said as I reluctantly got to my feet.
Hector had a small grin playing at his mouth. He shook a smiling Ralphie’s hand. Then he shook a frowning Buddy’s hand. Then his eyes cut to me.
I’d checked the Ice Princess at the door. She wasn’t allowed in, not to Buddy and Ralphie’s house.
What did I do now?
I didn’t have a chance to figure it out.
Hector moved, came right to me, right in my space, one of his arms slid around my waist, he pulled me to his warm body, gave me a gentle squeeze and he kissed my temple.
That’s right. He kissed my temple.
“Sadie,” he said against my temple.
I tilted my head back and stared at him.
I couldn’t speak. At least my mouth was no longer hanging open, for that, I could be grateful.
While Hector looked down at me and I stared up at him silent, Ralphie decided to speak.
“Sadie, what’s the matter with you? Hispanic Hottie has been out with his posse of cute boys, warning off the bad guys for weeks and now he’s in here and you have your chance to say thank you and you’re silent as a ghost,” Ralphie snapped.
“Ralphie –” Buddy said warningly.
Hector moved to my side. Close to my side and he looked down at me.
“Hispanic Hottie?” he asked, brows raised and lips still struggling to hold back a grin.
Oh my God. I wanted to die. Go live with the doves and the angels and leave this world forever.
Instead, my eyes sliced to Ralphie and they narrowed. Ralphie ignored my narrowed eyes.
“I know!” Ralphie exclaimed. “We’ll have a drink and all watch Veronica Mars. I think in the next episode she gets roughed up in a pool hall. Anyone would need a drink while watching that.”
I didn’t want to have a drink while watching Veronica Mars with Hector “Oh my God” Chavez. I wanted Hector to disappear in a puff of smoke and then I wanted to give Ralphie what for.
Hector didn’t disappear in a puff of smoke, instead he said, “That’d be good.”
My heart sunk, Ralphie clapped in delight and grabbed Buddy who was still frowning and dragged him from the room.
“What should we do? Martinis? Margaritas? I know! Beer!” I heard Ralphie say as he and Buddy disappeared into the kitchen.
I stood frozen to the spot, staring in the direction of the kitchen and wondering what the heck to do.
Hector’s flannel shirt filled my eyesight and I began to panic.
I wasn’t me. I was kind of Sadie-in-the-making when I was in Buddy and Ralphie’s house. Therefore, I didn’t have my armor.
I wasn’t wearing head-to-toe designer. I was wearing faded jeans and one of Buddy’s hooded sweatshirts and it was huge on me. I didn’t have on my Manolos or Jimmy Choos, giving me four inch heels and a little height. I was barefoot, French pedicured toes on full display. My hair wasn’t arranged perfectly, it was pulled up in a messy knot at the crown of my head.
At least I still had on my makeup from working at the gallery all day, thank God.
“Sadie,” Hector called, breaking into my frenzied thoughts about my appearance and further what he’d think about my appearance.
My eyes travelled up his shirt, the column of his brown throat, past his strong chin and his full lips to his black eyes. My heart skipped when I saw what was in his dark eyes.
Oh darn.
“How you doin’?” he asked softly.
“I’m fine,” I answered immediately.
His eyes flared with annoyance and without hesitation he got in my space.
And then (no kidding), his hand came to my jaw and his thumb trailed across the cut on my cheek (it was fading, very, very slowly, but it was still there and would be there until I made an appointment with the plastic surgeon).
I held my breath while he watched his thumb trace the scar then his palm moved along my cheek, his fingers slid into the hair at the side of my head and his hand cupped me behind my ear.
His eyes came back to mine.
“Mamita, I asked, how are you doing?” Hector repeated, his voice was calm but he was enunciating his words clearly, indicating he cared about my response and further, I better not try to blow him off again because he wasn’t going to like it.
I hesitated then, do not ask me why, I whispered, “Better.”
It was then, close up, I saw his eyes get warm and my stomach pitched at the sight.
Right after that, still standing frozen, Hector close, totally in my space, hand still in my hair, I watched his head start to tilt down.
“Nothing,” Ralphie replied.
I put my head back on Buddy’s thigh as Buddy muttered under his breath, “Jesus.”
My mind was occupied with Veronica’s episode-to-episode dilemma.
See, Veronica was torn between Duncan, the high school class president good boy and Logan, the high school ne’er-do-well bad boy. Personally, I was kind of rooting for the bad boy because he was great at delivering a one-liner. However the good boy was so sweet. The wildcard was Weevil, the leader of a high school, car-stealing, Hispanic, biker gang. I thought Veronica had good chemistry with Weevil and Weevil had great eyelashes and fantastic tattoos.
Therefore, my mind on Duncan, Logan and especially Weevil, I didn’t have time for Ralphie’s antics.
I heard, but didn’t pay much attention to, Ralphie leaving the room.
I heard, but didn’t pay much attention to, Ralphie opening the front door.
Lastly, I heard, but didn’t pay much attention to the murmur of male voices. Ralphie and Buddy had a big g*y posse and this g*y posse showed up loads, usually this degenerated into copious French martinis or lemon drops or cosmos and impromptu viewings of Auntie Mame (the Rosalind Russell version, not the Lucille Ball version) or Steel Magnolias.
Alternately, this could degenerate into a round of arm wrestling. It was anything goes at Ralphie and Buddy’s house.
“Look who finally came in from the cold,” Ralphie announced and my head came up when Buddy muttered, a lot louder this time, “Jesus.”
I stared, mouth open and everything, at Hector “Oh my God” Chavez standing in Buddy and Ralphie’s living room.
He was wearing jeans, black boots, a flannel shirt (untucked) and you could see his white t-shirt at the open collar. His thick, black hair needed cutting and he needed a shave.
He’d never looked better.
I kept staring as Buddy gently pulled me up to a seated position then stood up slowly and Ralphie started the introductions.
“I’m Ralphie and this is my lover Buddy and I think you know Sadie,” Ralphie said as I reluctantly got to my feet.
Hector had a small grin playing at his mouth. He shook a smiling Ralphie’s hand. Then he shook a frowning Buddy’s hand. Then his eyes cut to me.
I’d checked the Ice Princess at the door. She wasn’t allowed in, not to Buddy and Ralphie’s house.
What did I do now?
I didn’t have a chance to figure it out.
Hector moved, came right to me, right in my space, one of his arms slid around my waist, he pulled me to his warm body, gave me a gentle squeeze and he kissed my temple.
That’s right. He kissed my temple.
“Sadie,” he said against my temple.
I tilted my head back and stared at him.
I couldn’t speak. At least my mouth was no longer hanging open, for that, I could be grateful.
While Hector looked down at me and I stared up at him silent, Ralphie decided to speak.
“Sadie, what’s the matter with you? Hispanic Hottie has been out with his posse of cute boys, warning off the bad guys for weeks and now he’s in here and you have your chance to say thank you and you’re silent as a ghost,” Ralphie snapped.
“Ralphie –” Buddy said warningly.
Hector moved to my side. Close to my side and he looked down at me.
“Hispanic Hottie?” he asked, brows raised and lips still struggling to hold back a grin.
Oh my God. I wanted to die. Go live with the doves and the angels and leave this world forever.
Instead, my eyes sliced to Ralphie and they narrowed. Ralphie ignored my narrowed eyes.
“I know!” Ralphie exclaimed. “We’ll have a drink and all watch Veronica Mars. I think in the next episode she gets roughed up in a pool hall. Anyone would need a drink while watching that.”
I didn’t want to have a drink while watching Veronica Mars with Hector “Oh my God” Chavez. I wanted Hector to disappear in a puff of smoke and then I wanted to give Ralphie what for.
Hector didn’t disappear in a puff of smoke, instead he said, “That’d be good.”
My heart sunk, Ralphie clapped in delight and grabbed Buddy who was still frowning and dragged him from the room.
“What should we do? Martinis? Margaritas? I know! Beer!” I heard Ralphie say as he and Buddy disappeared into the kitchen.
I stood frozen to the spot, staring in the direction of the kitchen and wondering what the heck to do.
Hector’s flannel shirt filled my eyesight and I began to panic.
I wasn’t me. I was kind of Sadie-in-the-making when I was in Buddy and Ralphie’s house. Therefore, I didn’t have my armor.
I wasn’t wearing head-to-toe designer. I was wearing faded jeans and one of Buddy’s hooded sweatshirts and it was huge on me. I didn’t have on my Manolos or Jimmy Choos, giving me four inch heels and a little height. I was barefoot, French pedicured toes on full display. My hair wasn’t arranged perfectly, it was pulled up in a messy knot at the crown of my head.
At least I still had on my makeup from working at the gallery all day, thank God.
“Sadie,” Hector called, breaking into my frenzied thoughts about my appearance and further what he’d think about my appearance.
My eyes travelled up his shirt, the column of his brown throat, past his strong chin and his full lips to his black eyes. My heart skipped when I saw what was in his dark eyes.
Oh darn.
“How you doin’?” he asked softly.
“I’m fine,” I answered immediately.
His eyes flared with annoyance and without hesitation he got in my space.
And then (no kidding), his hand came to my jaw and his thumb trailed across the cut on my cheek (it was fading, very, very slowly, but it was still there and would be there until I made an appointment with the plastic surgeon).
I held my breath while he watched his thumb trace the scar then his palm moved along my cheek, his fingers slid into the hair at the side of my head and his hand cupped me behind my ear.
His eyes came back to mine.
“Mamita, I asked, how are you doing?” Hector repeated, his voice was calm but he was enunciating his words clearly, indicating he cared about my response and further, I better not try to blow him off again because he wasn’t going to like it.
I hesitated then, do not ask me why, I whispered, “Better.”
It was then, close up, I saw his eyes get warm and my stomach pitched at the sight.
Right after that, still standing frozen, Hector close, totally in my space, hand still in my hair, I watched his head start to tilt down.
