Rock Chick Regret
Page 37
I lifted my head to look over Hector’s shoulder and saw Ralphie disappear toward the kitchen, wearing his robe and scratching his behind.
I settled down and stared at Hector, torn between laughing, crying and panicking.
“We just got caught making out on the couch,” I informed him on a whisper as if he hadn’t been present at the event.
“Yeah,” Hector agreed, his lips doing that fighting-a-grin thing again.
Then it happened. I kind of exhaled sharply, through my nose and unable to control it I pressed my face in his throat and started to giggle. Within seconds, I was beyond giggling straight to laughter, my body shaking with it.
Hector rolled to his back, taking me with him so I was on top. The whole time, I kept laughing.
Later, when I was kind of laugh-hiccoughing, I lifted up, my forearm on his chest, my other hand coming up to wipe my eyes.
“That was funny,” I told him, eyes rolled to the ceiling, swiping underneath my right one.
“I can see,” Hector said.
I looked at him. He was grinning but I realized belatedly he hadn’t been laughing.
“Didn’t you think it was funny?”
“Mamita, it was funny but I’ve never seen you laugh like that before. No way in hell I was missin’ the chance to watch that.”
My stomach pitched at what he said and I was left speechless, the smile dying on my face.
“And there it goes,” he mumbled, watching my mouth.
“Do you laugh a lot?” I asked but for some reason I didn’t expect him to answer. Maybe because it was kind of a personal question.
His arms were around my waist and he gave me a small, affectionate squeeze.
Then to my surprise, he answered, “On a scale of one to ten with one being Sadie and ten being Indy, I’d say I’m at about a five.”
“Does Indy laugh a lot?”
“All the time.”
My body, which had gone tense, relaxed and I smiled at him.
“That’s good. I like her,” I told him. “She’s nice. She deserves a life of laughter.”
Mr. Mood Swing’s face grew dark and his voice sounded angry when he asked, “And you don’t?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It was implied.”
I thought about what I said then my eyes narrowed in confusion. “I didn’t imply that either.”
“Wasn’t it you who stood in this room last night tellin’ me you didn’t belong with ‘my people’, sayin’ you were Seth Townsend’s daughter and that’s the reason you didn’t belong?”
“Well, I am Seth Townsend’s daughter.” And I was!
“Tu padre was drug dealer, you were a drug dealer’s daughter. You can’t pick your father. No one blames you for the choices he made. You did the best you could with the hand you were dealt.”
I tried to rewind our morning from kiss to now to see where we went awry but Hector gave me another squeeze and the rewind hit pause. This squeeze was affectionate but it was an annoyed affectionate.
“Your lot in life is not payin’ for what your father did. You got a different lot in life, you chose your path the minute you started feedin’ information to me through that drawer.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means a lot of girls livin’ your life wouldn’t make that decision if it meant they couldn’t live in big houses, wear designer clothes and drive expensive cars.”
I blinked at him. “Hector, I don’t know if you know this but I do have a trust fund.”
“You got three million dollars in a trust fund. That is not gonna give you the kind of life you lived with your father.”
He was right, of course. Three million dollars was a lot of money but my father was worth loads more (before the Feds seized it, of course).
This was all making me a bit uncomfortable so before I could think better of it I blurted, “Can we go back to the jovial, fun-loving portion of the morning?”
He stared at me, still angry for a minute then his face cleared and he blew out a sigh.
“Wish you’d picked the tongue in my mouth, hand up my shirt portion of the morning.”
I kind of wished I picked that too.
He gave me another squeeze, I caught his grin and I realized that now he was teasing me.
My stomach did another pitch.
“Sweet ‘ums, I know you’re going for the world record for longest date in the history of man but we have paintings to sell so we can pay on our Z Gallerie credit card,” Ralphie said from the door to the kitchen.
Hector and I turned our heads and looked at Ralphie.
“I don’t have a Z Gallerie credit card,” I told Ralphie.
“Yes, but I do. Come on you two, up and at ‘em.” Ralphie clapped his hands. “Chop chop.”
This time, I blew out a sigh.
Hector did an ab curl, I came up with him, ended up on his lap, he stood and set me on my feet. I realized then I was shoeless and Hector was bootless.
“How did my shoes get taken off?” I asked, staring at my feet.
“Buddy and I woke up Hispanic Hottie when we got home,” Ralphie said. “Well, Buddy did, he was being really loud. Anyway, I got Hector a blanket, he took off your shoes and that’s all I saw. I had a hunk a burnin’ love to get to bed before he hurled on the hall carpet.”
I looked at Hector. “I slept through that?”
Even though I asked Hector, Ralphie answered, “Like a baby.”
I was a light sleeper; I’d wake up at a kitten’s mew. How could I sleep through that?
“Come on, I made coffee and I’m thinking toasted brioche with marmalade. Yum-a-licious!” Ralphie went on.
“Thanks but I have to go,” Hector said and Ralphie’s eyebrows went up.
“Have you had brioche?” Ralphie asked.
“No,” Hector answered.
“You don’t want to miss brioche,” Ralphie advised him.
Hector threw Ralphie a smile and then turned to me. His arm went around my waist and he pulled me gently to him so our sides and parts of our fronts were touching.
His head bent to mine, he gave me a quick kiss and he looked into my eyes.
“I’ll go home, shower, change. I’ll call Eddie and Shirleen. Shirleen’ll call Daisy. You call your friend Bex. I’ll come back and take you to the Station. Tell Bex to meet you there in two hours,” Hector told me.
Oh no.
In all the goings-on, I forgot I promised him I’d go to the Station.
I settled down and stared at Hector, torn between laughing, crying and panicking.
“We just got caught making out on the couch,” I informed him on a whisper as if he hadn’t been present at the event.
“Yeah,” Hector agreed, his lips doing that fighting-a-grin thing again.
Then it happened. I kind of exhaled sharply, through my nose and unable to control it I pressed my face in his throat and started to giggle. Within seconds, I was beyond giggling straight to laughter, my body shaking with it.
Hector rolled to his back, taking me with him so I was on top. The whole time, I kept laughing.
Later, when I was kind of laugh-hiccoughing, I lifted up, my forearm on his chest, my other hand coming up to wipe my eyes.
“That was funny,” I told him, eyes rolled to the ceiling, swiping underneath my right one.
“I can see,” Hector said.
I looked at him. He was grinning but I realized belatedly he hadn’t been laughing.
“Didn’t you think it was funny?”
“Mamita, it was funny but I’ve never seen you laugh like that before. No way in hell I was missin’ the chance to watch that.”
My stomach pitched at what he said and I was left speechless, the smile dying on my face.
“And there it goes,” he mumbled, watching my mouth.
“Do you laugh a lot?” I asked but for some reason I didn’t expect him to answer. Maybe because it was kind of a personal question.
His arms were around my waist and he gave me a small, affectionate squeeze.
Then to my surprise, he answered, “On a scale of one to ten with one being Sadie and ten being Indy, I’d say I’m at about a five.”
“Does Indy laugh a lot?”
“All the time.”
My body, which had gone tense, relaxed and I smiled at him.
“That’s good. I like her,” I told him. “She’s nice. She deserves a life of laughter.”
Mr. Mood Swing’s face grew dark and his voice sounded angry when he asked, “And you don’t?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It was implied.”
I thought about what I said then my eyes narrowed in confusion. “I didn’t imply that either.”
“Wasn’t it you who stood in this room last night tellin’ me you didn’t belong with ‘my people’, sayin’ you were Seth Townsend’s daughter and that’s the reason you didn’t belong?”
“Well, I am Seth Townsend’s daughter.” And I was!
“Tu padre was drug dealer, you were a drug dealer’s daughter. You can’t pick your father. No one blames you for the choices he made. You did the best you could with the hand you were dealt.”
I tried to rewind our morning from kiss to now to see where we went awry but Hector gave me another squeeze and the rewind hit pause. This squeeze was affectionate but it was an annoyed affectionate.
“Your lot in life is not payin’ for what your father did. You got a different lot in life, you chose your path the minute you started feedin’ information to me through that drawer.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means a lot of girls livin’ your life wouldn’t make that decision if it meant they couldn’t live in big houses, wear designer clothes and drive expensive cars.”
I blinked at him. “Hector, I don’t know if you know this but I do have a trust fund.”
“You got three million dollars in a trust fund. That is not gonna give you the kind of life you lived with your father.”
He was right, of course. Three million dollars was a lot of money but my father was worth loads more (before the Feds seized it, of course).
This was all making me a bit uncomfortable so before I could think better of it I blurted, “Can we go back to the jovial, fun-loving portion of the morning?”
He stared at me, still angry for a minute then his face cleared and he blew out a sigh.
“Wish you’d picked the tongue in my mouth, hand up my shirt portion of the morning.”
I kind of wished I picked that too.
He gave me another squeeze, I caught his grin and I realized that now he was teasing me.
My stomach did another pitch.
“Sweet ‘ums, I know you’re going for the world record for longest date in the history of man but we have paintings to sell so we can pay on our Z Gallerie credit card,” Ralphie said from the door to the kitchen.
Hector and I turned our heads and looked at Ralphie.
“I don’t have a Z Gallerie credit card,” I told Ralphie.
“Yes, but I do. Come on you two, up and at ‘em.” Ralphie clapped his hands. “Chop chop.”
This time, I blew out a sigh.
Hector did an ab curl, I came up with him, ended up on his lap, he stood and set me on my feet. I realized then I was shoeless and Hector was bootless.
“How did my shoes get taken off?” I asked, staring at my feet.
“Buddy and I woke up Hispanic Hottie when we got home,” Ralphie said. “Well, Buddy did, he was being really loud. Anyway, I got Hector a blanket, he took off your shoes and that’s all I saw. I had a hunk a burnin’ love to get to bed before he hurled on the hall carpet.”
I looked at Hector. “I slept through that?”
Even though I asked Hector, Ralphie answered, “Like a baby.”
I was a light sleeper; I’d wake up at a kitten’s mew. How could I sleep through that?
“Come on, I made coffee and I’m thinking toasted brioche with marmalade. Yum-a-licious!” Ralphie went on.
“Thanks but I have to go,” Hector said and Ralphie’s eyebrows went up.
“Have you had brioche?” Ralphie asked.
“No,” Hector answered.
“You don’t want to miss brioche,” Ralphie advised him.
Hector threw Ralphie a smile and then turned to me. His arm went around my waist and he pulled me gently to him so our sides and parts of our fronts were touching.
His head bent to mine, he gave me a quick kiss and he looked into my eyes.
“I’ll go home, shower, change. I’ll call Eddie and Shirleen. Shirleen’ll call Daisy. You call your friend Bex. I’ll come back and take you to the Station. Tell Bex to meet you there in two hours,” Hector told me.
Oh no.
In all the goings-on, I forgot I promised him I’d go to the Station.
