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Fight for You

Page 23

by Charisse Spiers


  "Put it on."

  "No."

  "Piper...."

  "Haddox...."

  "Put the fucking helmet on, Piper. I'd rather see your beautiful face alive and free of scars with messy hair than for it to be perfectly fixed with you lying in a casket...so put the damn helmet on. Now." I trust myself with her safety, but not that much. I can only control my own driving skills. I can't control everyone else's.

  She growls out her frustration and snatches the helmet from my hands. "You are so frustrating sometimes. Do you have to control everything? Girls need to feel pretty. You're totally ruining that for me."

  She places the helmet on her head and I smile. Damn she looks sexy. "Baby, you want the honest truth? From a man's point of view, a girl is either pretty or not. No amount of hair care or makeup can change that. You look hot right now, but personally I prefer you more natural, so the desired effect you have when you add all of that doesn't alter my perspective of you at all," I say and wink as I place my own helmet on my head, but wait on sliding it down and in place. My eyes lock with hers through the clear face shield. "Hold on tight," I say and push it all the way on.

  I turn and start the engine as she wraps her arms around my waist, pulling her feet onto the foot pegs. The garage door starts to rise at the push of a button, revealing the driveway. I push down with my left foot, balancing the bike on the wheels while I lift the stand and start to walk us forward, rolling through the garage.

  We get outside the door and I close it. She presses her body against mine, tightening her hold. I can feel her plump, round breasts against my back, moving each time she breathes, making me want to grab them and put them in my mouth. The girl has an amazing rack. They’re the perfect size. I need to get my mind off of her beautiful tits and focus on my plans for tonight.

  I shift and start to release the clutch as I press the gas, the bike rolling forward now on its own. I raise my legs and replace my feet onto the pegs. We start to ride, exiting onto the main street. I've never allowed a girl to ride with me before. This is so new to me, but I can't deny that I like it. I love feeling her body pressed against mine, her giving me her trust in protecting her. It's foreign in comparison to the structured life I'm used to; everything in a timed order all the way down to the women I was involved with sexually. If I was honest with myself, I'm not sure that I would want to go back to the way it was before. I'm not even sure what that means exactly. I like her; maybe even a little too much.

  I increase speed as we get onto the straight road ahead. She clutches the fabric of my shirt in her fists and squeezes me tightly. The restaurant isn't far from my house, because I live in a subdivision not far from town. I like it here, because it's a different world from the city without being across the country, but it's also populated enough that it's never boring being here. I was hooked on city life from the time I arrived. The more people the better. Small town gossip and people wanting to stay in your business is not for me. I like the fact that people don't give a shit in the city. It's too fast paced for them to care.

  I turn onto a side street instead of staying on the main drag. I think I'm going to take the scenic route and prolong the ride as long as I can. I have her to myself for two days. I'm trying my hand at dating, though I doubt I'll be any good at it. I have to give it a try at least. I'm going to find out more about her while we're here with no distractions, because in two days life will be back on course.

  I'm not sure what will happen when we return to the city. She has her home and I have mine. She has school and I have to deal with the repercussions of my actions at my last fight. I'm about to start traveling with my fights and I'm sure the nightmares are about to start back up when we sleep separately. That thought doesn't sit well with me. I kind of like the mystery of not knowing, but it also sets me up to wonder. I don't like my head running wild with possibilities. It's never a good thing. Ever.

  I slow my pace a little so that we don't have to lean forward and let the wind roll off our backs. Holding the bike steady with one hand, I place my hand on her leg with the other, just outside of her knee. I like touching her. It soothes me. My plan is to have no plan. It seems to be working out for me so far. It's probably the only time in my life I've been able to say that. The only option is to see where this goes. There are no other options, because I'm slowly becoming addicted to living my life with her in it...

  We pull into a parking lot already half filled with vehicles. I can hear music playing over the loud speakers: blues music. The wood on the building looks aged, giving it a vintage feel. It makes me feel more comfortable knowing he didn't bring us to a five star restaurant on our first official date. It actually makes me smile as I take it in, because this looks more like Haddox's personality.

  The name on the side of the building reads – Marlin’s seafood bar and grill - crafted from iron and aluminum, topped with a Marlin fish jumping over the name. He kills the engine of his bike in the lined space at the end of the row facing the building, and removes his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar. He turns to look at me, sporting a serious demeanor.

  His hair is slightly messy and sticking up in the front, closest to his forehead. It should be illegal to look that fine. I've been trying to stay mad at him all day, because I really don't like being told what to do. It's not so much that I ended up missing school, although I don't like, but it's the fact he told me I was going to. It's really not okay for a man in any situation to boss around a woman. We should be equal, partners, lovers, and friends, but not one better than the other. The days of women bouncing babies on hips and walking around barefoot and pregnant are over.

  The problem is being mad at him is harder than I imagined it would be. I had to constantly bite my tongue and think of ridiculous things to keep from laughing each time he tried to butter me up. The fact that he actually tried to put me in a good mood versus just saying fuck you, says a lot. Even I was tired of my bitchy behavior and I wasn't on the receiving end.

  Movies always take my mind off of whatever it's on, allowing me to become lost in the characters, especially in a romance. The Notebook is one of my favorite movies. No matter how many times I watch it, I still have the same reaction. I still fall hopelessly in love with their love story over and over again, as if watching it for the first time.... except for today. Damn him. The entire movie all I wanted to do was snuggle into his arm and lay my head on his shoulder, wishing he would rub my arm and whisper sweet nothings in my ear as Noah and Ally pined for each other. Am I really turning into that girl?

  One week. One fucking week and I'm turning into this weak, love-struck girl that is hopelessly stuck in the world of a boy, wanting him to fall for her. Oh geez. Someone slap me and bring me back into the world of the rich city girl with Mommy problems, longing to be the next big fashion designer. At least that girl knew where she was going from minute to minute. This one is living more like a gypsy.

  He grabs the bottom of the helmet and slides it up my face, removing it completely. The side of his mouth starts to pull up as he looks at me, showing that sexy, half smile, half smirk thing he does. It's unforgettable. I'm going to cave. I'm about to cave. Don't do it, Piper. Stay strong. You've worked hard all day...

  "Are you going to stay mad at me all day?" That voice: low, sexy, raspy, and seductive. I'm a goner. I can't do it. My body is already starting to deceive me. I can feel it in my facial muscles. I can't stop it. It's like a contagious disease. It hits you before you know it's coming.

  "Maybe." My lips start to mold into a broad smile, my teeth becoming visible. Dammit to hell. "What's it to you?"

  He discards the helmet to mirror the other one, his face never leaving mine. "Because I'm extremely hard to be mad at. I'm good at making up for things."

  Do I sense a double meaning there? It's hard to tell. Either way, I can't help but to notice the contraction starting between my legs. I want to shake my head at myself right now, but I'd look like a psycho. I'm turning into a damn horny teenager. I don't
think I've ever liked sex this much...and that even blows my mind. There is no reason to lie to myself. I accepted that I'm not a saint a long time ago. "Is that so? Do I get proof of this claim that you're making? You know...because you could be talking shit and all."

  He winks. "You bet, beautiful. I was hoping you would ask." He holds out his hand palm up. I look at it and back at him, trying to hold out for a few more seconds. His lips turn up when our eyes lock: a victorious gleam. Mine resembles that of defeat. He knows he has me. It's no secret.

  I place my hand in his for balance. "I'm holding you to it, Hayes. You have some brownie points to earn. Right now, you're in the negative after this morning."

  He places his other hand on my waist, helping me off the bike until I'm standing on the pavement, waiting for him. He kicks out the stand of the bike and stands, letting the bike's weight fall on the stand, before getting off himself.

  I discretely try to fix my hair. I have no idea what I'm about to walk into that restaurant looking like. The term helmet hair is invading my mind, terrifying me. He turns, placing his hand at the small of my back and starts to walk forward, toward the steps leading to the porch. "Brownie points, huh? I suppose I better start brainstorming."

  "They aren't easy to come by. You better think hard." We walk up the steps until we're standing on the wooden porch. "What is this place, exactly?"

  He grabs the fish shaped door handle and pulls it open, allowing me to enter first as he usually does. To be such a bad guy he sure is a gentleman. I'm starting to think he's more of a martyr than a monster. "I think it used to be a general store that's been bought out a few times. This place has occupied the building about three years now. I hope you don't mind. It's laid back and has really good oysters."

  I stand in place, looking at him with a look of disgust. He looks at me, waiting on me to walk through the door. "What?"

  "You eat oysters...as in raw?"

  "Yeah. They're good. Don't you?"

  My mouth falls slightly, trying to remove the vision of that beautiful mouth being tainted by something so disgusting. "Um, no. They're filter feeders, disgusting things that serve no purpose outside of their natural habitat. Do you know what kind of diseases you can get from raw oysters? I mean, we're talking Hepatitis A, E Coli, other things I am failing to remember from Microbiology. It wasn’t my best subject. I thought you were kind of weird about germs."

  He shrugs his shoulders and places his arm around me as another couple starts to ascend the stairs behind us, no doubt giving me a little push to move from the doorway. I step forward and realize the hostess has been waiting on us to enter. "Oh, sorry." I'm such a ditz sometimes.

  I say nothing more as he gives her the information and we follow her to our table next to the sidewall. I look around the room at the place, taking it all in. I kind of like it here. It's definitely different than I'm used to, but it has an old homey feel about it. The floor is an unfinished wood, probably worn from being walked on for years. The walls are also a rough-cut lumber, discolored from years of wear, but covered in various signage, photographs, and wall art from different types of things, but mostly nautical and fishery, matching the name.

  We are sitting in the bar area, I assume, from the obvious bar to my right against the back wall, filled to capacity with various forms of alcohol and glasses. I turn back to Haddox, sitting directly across from me with his forearms on top of the closed menu, staring at me. I notice a stage behind him against the wall, set up for a band I would guess. It's empty and music is playing throughout the restaurant. "What's with the stage?"

  He links his hands together, drawing my attention to them. They are strong without being oversized, long but lean, with a thick frame. I love his hands. They are magical on a woman’s body. I wonder what it would feel like laced with mine as we walk. The closest I came was spooning in my bed, one laced on top of the other. "Karaoke starts at ten."

  That word reverts my attention back to his face and my gut gets a bad feeling. "Karaoke?"

  He sits back and opens his menu, unfazed. "Yes. When the older crowd has cleared out it becomes more of a bar than a restaurant, and participants are chosen at random. Those still in the building after 9:45 are basically signing up to take part if called upon. It's one of the rules," he says and points to the small metal sign hanging on the wall next to the table. In large white lettering it reads - House rules.

  This has to be a fucking joke. There is no way in hell I'm getting on a stage and singing along to karaoke. I can't sing to save my life. I love music. I spend a lot of money on it. Hell, I could probably buy stock in iTunes, but it benefits my ears. My mind works and stays focused on the creative side, but a good voice wasn't something I was graced with.

  I'm silently freaking out, terrified that I'll be called upon like a student in class. That's the kind of luck I have. The waitress in khaki shorts and a company tee shirt walks up with a notepad and pen, breaking my internal debate as she introduces herself. "Can I start you guys off with something to drink?"

  Well, I was going to take it easy tonight considering the series of recent events, but that has just been thrown out the window. I look up at the pretty redhead with her medium length hair loosely pulled back in a ponytail. "I'll take water as well as a vodka and cranberry, please. Make it stout."

  I turn to Haddox, waiting for him to answer. "Are you sure?"

  "Of course. I'm with you."

  He nods and looks at the waitress. "Water as well and Bud light, draft."

  She wastes no time in walking away to fill the order. "They don't check IDs?"

  He smiles. "I'm a friend to the owner. He knows my age and I would never be with someone under the age of twenty-one. You're the youngest one yet." Finally, a little bit of himself is slowly emerging; although, I won't lie and say that last line didn’t stir an increment of jealousy. I want to know more, so much more.

  ***

  I've barely touched my salad. I feel kind of bad about that, but it's hard to eat across from someone like Haddox. He has these intense stares as if he's studying me. I can't be that interesting of a subject. It's a little intimidating when bringing food to your mouth. Instead, I just continue to sip on my drinks that I continue to order from the bar. My nerves are causing me to sip faster than I probably should. I can always say it's his fault.

  Just as I finish the last sip on my drink, a guy sets down a full glass and a beer for Haddox. "What's up, buddy?" His tone is a playful laughter in greeting. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Next time, don't stay away for so long."

  I look at him. He's an attractive guy, probably a few years older than Haddox, but no older than thirty-five. He's wearing a band on his left hand. Maybe he's the owner, but I'm not sure.

  Haddox raises his right arm and they lock hands. "Been busy, man. Why don't you come back to the city already," he asks playfully. I watch the two of them interact. Even though I don't know this guy I like him, for the simple fact that Haddox is smiling and his face is relaxed and happy. It makes my heart warm. He doesn't even appear this way around Reese.

  "You know the city is no place to raise a family unless you want to spend a fortune; besides, I kind of like it here. If you would come more often you would probably feel the same." He looks at me as I sit here staring at the two of them, sipping on the freshly made drink that was sat before me. Who am I to waste it? "But I can see that you've been busy," he says as he smiles, and now I'm feeling slightly awkward.

  I straighten my posture, my buzz now consuming my mental state. I hold out my hand to shake his. "I'm Piper. I guess Haddox has forgotten his manners," I say with a smile on my face. He takes my hand in his as I continue to introduce myself. "I'm his fr-"

  "Girlfriend," Haddox says interrupting me. My eyes widen at his sudden outburst. The man that has remained nameless takes notice and his smile enlarges. Holy shit. Haddox just categorized me as his girlfriend in front of someone he knows. I don't care where you're from or who you are, guys don't do that on a whim. I
t's a thought out thing. I look over at Haddox and his eyes lock on mine. My brows crinkle in the middle from my confusion, but then he smirks and simply shrugs his shoulders as if this isn't a big deal at all. "You are. I've come to terms with it.... Might as well own up to it. You're off the market. It should be known."

  This night just took a turn and I'm dying inside, but in a good way. I feel like I just won a date with an actor I've been crushing on since I was a silly little girl discovering the opposite gender, and that they really don't have cooties after all. My heart is pounding and my buzz has me grinning from ear to ear, reflecting my emotions as if they're written on my forehead in lipstick.

  "No shit. I might need to mark this down in history." My hand falls free as he speaks, causing me to look over in remembrance that it's not just the two of us. "Someone so important to Haddox is important to me. I'm Marlin. Marlin Bankston, hence the name," he says as he circles his index finger in the air.

  Marlin places his arm around my shoulders and leans forward, whispering in my ear. I look at Haddox and smile as the words and recognition flow through my ears. "That five hundred dollars you owe me for this stubborn ass' loss the other night.... call it even. Any girl that can catch his ass deserves it. That boy defines a high speed chase, and you just broke a record."

  He squeezes my shoulder and stands upright, making me feel like a movie star. Someone could rob me right now and my mood wouldn't be affected. I stare at Haddox heatedly, draining my glass through the small straw. A new set of hormones rush through my veins. I'm going to need more alcohol to tame what's brewing inside.

  "Another drink will be here shortly. Everything is on the house tonight." Marlin slaps Haddox on the back and says one final thing, clearly about to move on to someplace else. "Bring her to meet Kaitlyn before you go back to the city. As a matter of fact, bring her tomorrow afternoon. We'll put some steaks on the grill and play a few games of pool and darts. It's been too long. Don't let me down. I'm expecting you by five. Maggie has been asking about you. You wouldn't want to disappoint her, would you?"

 

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