by Staci Hart
My throat was tight, and I swallowed, feeling overwhelmed. “Thank you, Cooper. Thank you for asking me to be a part of this and for your faith and trust in me. I just need some time to process all of this as an actual possibility.”
His smile was crooked and easy. “Take all the time you need — there’s no pressure from me. The offer stands indefinitely.” He leaned back in his chair. “What are you up to today?”
“Staring at these papers until I have to go to work tonight. Are you guys coming in?”
“We’ll be there.” He pushed back from the table and stood. “I’m heading over to West’s for a bit, if you want to hang out. Otherwise, I’ll leave you to it.”
I stood too and stepped over to give him a hug. “Thanks, Coop. Really.”
He gave me a squeeze. “You got it, Rosie. I’ll catch you later,” he said before leaving me alone with my thoughts.
My own bookstore. My own bar. I sat back down at the table and pulled out the papers again, touching them all, imagining what it would be like. Could I do it? Could I really do it and run it well? I knew a lot from working at Habits, enough that I could handle the bar easily. If Cooper had advisors that could help with the rest … did I want to do it?
In a perfect world, the answer was hell yes. In our imperfect world, the question was could I do it.
The answer to that was, of course, that I wouldn’t know until I tried. I just had to be brave enough to take the leap.
ASS BUST
Rose
IT WAS LATE THAT AFTERNOON when Patrick and I walked through the park, holding hands with longboards under our arms for his first lesson. I was giddy, so giddy I could barely even play it cool, and not just because he’d finally agreed to let me teach him how to skate.
“So, Cooper came by today,” I started.
He glanced over at me, smirking. “Oh?”
“Mmhmm.” I took a breath. “He really wants to do Wasted Words. Like, he had a portfolio and charts and spreadsheets and …” I took another breath to stop my rambling. “He really wants to do it, Patrick. And he wants me run it.”
“That’s … that’s amazing.” His face was soft, full of wonder, and his fingers squeezed mine. “So, are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I really want to, but I also think it’s crazy and ridiculous. I mean, I don’t know the first thing about running a business, but Coop has people lined up to advise me on it. I just … I don’t know. What do you think about it? Do you think I should do it? Or am I just insane for thinking it could maybe work?”
We came to a stop on one of the less crowded, flatter paths, and Patrick turned to me, letting my hand go so he could cup my cheek. “I don’t think you’re insane or crazy or ridiculous.” He stepped closer, until our bodies touched, looking down at me with eyes full of adoration. “I think you can do anything, Rose. I think you should do it.”
I smiled, overwhelmed, and he kissed me, thumb stroking my cheek, lips giving me all the confidence I’d ever need.
When he broke away, I leaned into him, not wanting the kiss to end. His lips brushed my temple, and he stepped back to set down his board. I set mine down too and looked around. Golden sunshine poured through the trees as the sun began its descent, though we probably had a couple more hours before it would be gone for good. It was days like this that reminded me of home. My favorite kinds of days.
“All right, this looks good. Are you ready for this?” I found myself grinning like a teenager as I watched him put my spare board on the path and scratch the line of his jaw.
“I think so.”
“I can’t believe you’re finally going to let me teach you how to skate.”
He smirked. “Just promise you won’t judge me too hard when I look like a clown.”
“Okay, well, keep in mind that people falling happens to be one of my weaknesses, so I can’t make any guarantees. I will promise that I’ll feel really bad about laughing, if that helps?”
He laughed. “I guess I’ll take what I can get.”
“Probably wise.”
He was still smirking at me, and when he put one foot on the board and stuffed his hands into the pocket of his dark jeans, my heart did a flip flop in my chest.
I jumped into my teaching role, because if I kept standing there staring, I’d end up kissing him, which would lead to him kissing me, which would lead to me dragging him home so I could rip his clothes off.
I cleared my throat. “All right. So the good thing about longboards is that they’re easier to learn on and cruise, so you shouldn’t fall as much.”
“As much?” he asked as a brow climbed.
“Yeah, because you’re going to fall. Just get ready for that.”
He chuckled.
I shoved him hard in the shoulders, and he took a step back to catch himself, giving me a look.
But I smiled. “You’ll probably ride regular, since you caught yourself with your left foot.”
“There’s no other test for that?”
“There are, but that one was the most fun. For me, at least.” I put my right foot on the board near the back. “So your dominant leg will stay on the board closer to the back, and you’ll balance over your left leg. Rest it closer to the front, a little farther than shoulder width from your back foot, between the trucks.”
“The wheels?”
“The axles, yeah, where the bolts are on the deck,” I said as I pointed at the board. “Okay, go ahead and get on.”
“Where should I put my feet?” he asked.
“Don’t worry about it besides putting your right foot in the back.”
He got on, feet perpendicular to the board and looked to me for instruction as I got on mine, facing him. “All right. Now just get the feel for it. Crouch down and stand back up to feel where your balance is. Bounce a little so you can feel the give.”
He did as he was told, then shifted his hips, moving the board back and forth under him.
I smiled. “Good. Okay, now try moving your feet up and down the board a little without stepping off.”
He looked a little stiff as he tried to move around the board without falling.
“Bend your knees a little more, that’ll help. Think about which way you’re leaning and try to be aware of it. I used to lean back when I first started.
He bent a little. “Oh, yeah. That’s easier.”
“How’s it feel?”
He nodded. “Good.”
“Okay, so now, you push.” I took the stance. “Put your weight on your left foot, and push with your right. Just do one for now.” I pushed and cruised as he watched on.
He nodded and pushed once, looking pretty solid. I smiled wider as he cruised toward me.
“Think about where your center of balance is. The lower you are, the more comfortable you’ll be, so if shit gets real, get low to try to regain control of your balance, but watch out — you’ll go faster too.”
“Get low. Got it.”
“Push a couple of times this time and then cruise.”
He did, and I kept up with him, cruising beside him, riding goofy so I could face him. “What do you think?”
He smiled at me. “I like it.”
My heart fluttered again, like a skipping idiot in my chest, and I looked ahead of us as we pushed again. “Okay, so see that little slope coming up? Don’t push again, just coast down it and bend your knees as you pick up speed.”
He looked determined. “All right.”
I watched as he handled the slope like a boss, smirking at me once he’d slowed down.
“So, stopping?” he asked.
“That’s a little harder. We shouldn’t be going fast enough today for you to need anything more than foot braking. Basically, just drag your foot on the ground to slow you down. Or you could just ride out the speed. But if you lose control, just point yourself toward the grass and bail.”
“Like, jump off?”
“Tuck and roll, Tricky. Tuck and roll.”
<
br /> He chuckled.
“Just kidding. Usually you just hit the ground running, but if you’re going faster than you can run, definitely roll. You can slide to stop too, but that takes practice. Okay, come on. Let’s cruise again.” I kicked, and we got a good easy speed going. “So to turn, you carve — lean in whatever direction you go. That’ll also slow you down.”
He stared down at his Converse as he cruised.
“Try to keep your eyes up. Your feet know what to do, even though it feels weird.”
He nodded and looked up.
“Hanging in there?”
He smiled. “Feels good.”
“Then let’s ride.” I pushed our pace a little faster, and he kept up, finally getting to the point where he could talk instead of strictly concentrate. He looked good on a board, like he belonged there.
We rounded a bend a bit later to be met with oncoming traffic, two people riding bikes next to each other with a dog on a leash. Patrick had been comfortable enough that we were moving fast, for him, and his eyes went wide.
I braked, dragging my foot against the asphalt to put him in front of me. “Tricky, carve! Toward the grass.”
He leaned and headed for the grass, but he forgot to jump and the force threw him off the board just as the pack passed us.
“Assholes!” I called after them, giving them the bitchiest look I could muster, which meant I wasn’t paying attention. My board crashed into his, and I flew off. “Whoamagod!”
I hit the ground with an oof, landing on my stomach right next to Patrick, who lay on his back with his hand on his chest, laughing at me.
I couldn’t help but laugh too, dropping my head to my forearms as I tried to catch my breath, since it had been knocked out of me. I rolled over onto my back, our arms touching, and he threaded his fingers through mine. We turned and looked at each other, and his fingers grazed my cheek, my lips.
He wanted to tell me something — there was something behind his eyes that scared me. I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t think I wanted to know. So I kissed him instead, hoping to wipe away the thought, for a moment at least.
In that, I was right. When we opened our eyes again, it was gone along with my dread.
We skated a bit more, then went home, ordered in, and spent another evening blissfully alone — Ellie had been staying with Max almost every night. I lay with my feet in his lap on the couch, reading a book as he sketched. We brushed our teeth next to each other in the bathroom as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Over the last week, I’d forgotten the bad. I’d remembered how good we were together.
But I felt our past, always there with us, the subtext in each kiss, each word. As much as I hoped we’d just wake up one day with the whole mess behind us, I knew better than anyone that it would bubble up in every argument, every fight, every bad day. It wouldn’t leave us alone. It was the one lesson I’d learned from being a chronic avoider. The one thing I could count on.
Lying there with him, I realized our situation was about as stable as nitroglycerin, and I knew the explosion would be quiet and destructive, all at once. Because that was how he and I worked. And here we were, living together, pretending it was all just fine when really the gas just kept leaking and leaking into the room. I only wondered who would strike the match.
TICK TOCK
Patrick
I FELT GOOD AS I climbed the stairs of our building the next night. I’d decided to sleep on it, and this morning I woke up still feeling like moving in with Seth was the right thing to do, and what I wanted. I’d tell Rose tonight.
I smiled to myself. It was going to work out. Everything would work out.
I slipped my key into the lock of my apartment, opening the door to find Cooper and West sitting at the table with a bottle of scotch between them.
Cooper stood to grab me a glass as we said our hellos. “Have a drink with us before Habits.”
I settled into the chair as Cooper poured. “I’ve been waiting for one of these all day.”
“Well, I’m happy to oblige.” He took a seat and picked up his glass. “How’s it going, Trick?”
I shrugged, not sure if I wanted to talk about it. “Fine, I guess.”
West chuckled. “That was convincing.”
I smiled. “It’s complicated.”
“Isn’t everything?” Cooper asked and took a drink.
“Where are the girls?”
West leaned on the table. “At Habits with Rose.”
I relaxed a little, knowing Lily wasn’t within earshot. I rubbed my jaw. “Listen, West. We’ve got to talk about my place here.”
Smiles fell as we slipped into seriousness, and I took a pull of my drink.
“I think it’s time I moved out.”
West’s face was solemn, and he looked down at his drink. “This was your place first, Patrick. It’s still your place. Lily and I could move. Or we could relocate to her place.”
I shook my head and smiled reassuringly. “No. You belong here, together. And whatever Rose and I are, we’re not ready to move in together, not officially. I just need to take a step, because living in limbo is getting to be too hard.”
“Where will you go?” West asked.
“Seth needs a roommate. It’s close by, and he’s in a bind.”
Reproachful eyes met me from both sides of the table.
“You sure that’s a good idea, Tricky?” West’s dark brows were low, eyes a darker shade of blue than usual.
“No. But what I am sure of is that I can handle it. I trust him, but I’m not blind. It could be a chance to be an example for him. Be a friend to him now that he’s alone, sober. I think it would be good for him, but I’m not going into this with any delusions. Just hope.”
Cooper sipped his drink, and West rubbed his beard. “I’m not gonna lecture you, ‘cause I’m not your mother. If you think you’ve got a handle on it, and it’s what you want, I can’t tell you not to. Just know you’ve got a place here. We don’t want you to go, and I know Rose doesn’t either.”
“I know. But I’m ready to have a place of my own again.”
West shook his head. “I didn’t think it would turn out this way.”
I frowned. “What way?”
“I mean, I was glad you were staying over there, but I didn’t think Lily and I would lead to you leaving.”
The glass was cool in my hand as I took a drink. “It’s not just about that, West. I’m happy for you guys, and I’m happy with Rose. But this is the smart thing for me, and I can help a friend in the process. There’s nothing to fix. I just wanted you to know that it was happening.”
He sighed, his eyes sad. “Well, it’s been a good run, friend.”
West raised his glass, and Cooper did too, and I touched the rim of mine to theirs, smiling. “That it has.”
A few hours later, we all sat around the bar at Habits, just like always, watching Rose, feeling the shift again. Before, it was happening around me, and I was still, watching it all move farther away. But now I felt myself caught in the current, felt the change pull me, moving me whether I wanted to go or not.
I drank the tail end of my whiskey just as Rose passed me another. We shared a smile, the kind that can only exist between two people who’ve known and loved and hurt each other. And then I said a little prayer that everything would be all right.
KAMIKAZE
Rose
PATRICK STAYED UNTIL WE CLOSED down the bar, long after everyone had waved and smiled their goodbyes, and all the lights had gone down. We held hands as we walked home in content silence, both of us seeming to be lost in thought.
The apartment was quiet and dark, and we walked to my room in silence, not bothering to turn on the lights, just undressing before slipping into bed together. And then I was in his arms. His heart beat against my cheek, his legs entwined with mine. After a moment, I tilted my chin, leaning back to cup his jaw, and I kissed him.
It was simple, the easy way our han
ds moved, our lips, our bodies, the slow way we came together that night, when everything was exactly what it was for those moments. Connecting. Reconnecting after what happened. It all seemed so silly now, meaningless. Like the things you did when you were young that left a mark on you, but you couldn’t remember the details, only the result. And I could still feel the tear in my heart, the sting of the wound, even though it had healed so much.
I was beginning to convince myself that he wouldn’t hurt me, which was of course the moment when he did.
We were wrapped in each other, hearts finally slowed, his fingers in my hair as we lay there together, just breathing. And then he spoke.
“Thank you for letting me stay, Rose.”
I smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About how much I’ve missed you.”
“Me too,” I said softly. “So much.”
He took a breath, and I felt his heart beat faster under my cheek. “I had dinner with Seth the other night. He … well, he needs a roommate.”
I chuckled. “Tell him to get on Craigslist.”
“It’s not that simple. He can’t have a regular roommate who drinks and smokes weed and has liquor in the house, not when he’s trying to stay clean. And I’m in a position to help. I don’t really have a home anymore, and as much as I love being here with you, I can’t keep staying here like this.”
My entire body tensed. “You’re not seriously considering it, are you?”
“I already told him I would. I need a place of my own, and he needs the help.”
I sat up, pulling the sheets with me. “Seth always needs help.”
He clicked on the light and sat too, propped against pillows. “Yeah, well he’s sober and trying. It’s different this time, Rose.”
“You can’t be sure that’s true.”
“I have to believe that it is.”
My heart pounded. “You can’t live with Seth. I mean, what if he steals from you? It wouldn’t be the first time. Or what if he gets you caught up in something and you end up arrested again? He could have drugs in the house. You can’t put yourself in that position, Patrick.”
