by Laura Ward
Aveline pushed her glasses higher up her nose and smoothed her hair. “Can you sit with me in the car for a few minutes? It’s too cold to stand outside, and I have a few more questions for our assignment.”
“Sure.” Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I walked with her to her car. The air was frigid, and I hadn’t put on a jacket, but my blood was pumping hot from her proximity alone.
When she got to her Tesla, I opened her door and jogged around to slide into the passenger side. Her engine came on, heat pouring through the vents. I angled in my seat toward Aveline, who had her paper and pen out.
“Before you ask me more questions, I have one for you. Why didn’t you tell me that you speak fluent Española?” Squinting one eye, I lifted the other eyebrow higher. I never thought to ask her, just assumed she didn’t speak Spanish. The fault was mine, and the revelation a cool ass surprise.
She bit her bottom lip, her expression coy. “If you had asked me directly, I wouldn’t have lied. But I love languages. It’s a passion of mine. I speak fluent French and Italian as well and dabble with German. Keeping it to myself until the right time was fun. I thought you might get a kick out of it.”
Narrowing my eyes, I assessed her. I was an ass. I’d pegged this girl all wrong. Spoiled rich bitch? Rich, sure, but neither other descriptors were the least bit accurate.
“I did. You shocked me. Nothing seems to do that anymore. Well played, Gerard.” I sat back, motioning forward with my hand. “Hit me with the inquisition.”
Aveline didn’t look down at her notes. She knew exactly what question to start with. “What happened to your father?”
There it was. This was the moment I had been waiting for since I first recognized her. Why I had befriended her. Why I had asked to be study partners and share this project. All along I waited for her to realize who my father was and why he was hurt and how she connected to his story. This was it. I could tell her and demand her parents help. The time was now. My secret could be unveiled, and the fury inside would win.
Aveline looked up at me, her gray eyes wide behind her brown glass frames. She chewed on the corner of her lip, her nervousness covering her like a shawl. And for what? When she learned the truth, it would get much worse.
But everything would end. Our time together would end because she would realize that I knew who she was all along and that I’d lied to her. The girl with no friends and suffocating parents.
Me, her first kiss. First study partner. First friend. Her first liar.
And I was. A liar. Ignoring my horrible plan, I lied again.
“Accident. Fracture of the spinal cord. He’s a quadriplegic. Has been for eighteen years.” I held my breath, waiting to see if she would do the math, thinking back to the timing of her accident.
Aveline nodded, not focusing on the timing, but focusing on… me. “I’m sorry.”
I nodded, clenching my jaw so hard I feared I’d break a damn tooth.
“What about health care? And family support other than your immediate family? How are you getting your father the help he needs?” Aveline asked, uncapping her pen, to fill out the class paperwork.
“Mama works a menial job. We don’t have private insurance, only Medicaid. A health care social worker at the hospital helps us with the red tape to get Papa what he needs. But there’s out of pocket expenses. New developments aren’t covered for him, shit like that.” I rubbed at my neck, tension building from saying the words out loud.
“Like what?” Aveline asked, her eyes wide.
“Marcela’ll be pre-med in college. Her hobby is researching medical journals. There’ve been all kinds of experimental procedures done with success for quadriplegics. The coolest thing I’ve learned about is electrical stimulation. Stimulating the spine has been found to eliminate the need for a ventilator in some patients. Others have learned to control robotic arms with their brain. Crazy stuff.” My voice rose in excitement and Aveline grasped my hand in both of hers.
“That’s amazing! I wish that was available for your father.” Her lips flattened into a line. “But that stuff is really expensive, huh?”
I didn’t answer her. I couldn’t muster up the words to delve into the unfairness of it all. “As far as your other question, support is hard. You can’t find home agencies that will take Medicaid payments to come care for him here. Quads are too tough to manage. Mama, Marcela, Teresa, and I do it all. We have to hire transport to get him to doctors, but for everything else we take care of him here, where we know he’s most comfortable and would want to be. We have extended family, but they don’t know enough about his treatment and care to help. They’re mostly emotional and moral support to us.”
Aveline scribbled down a few notes, then capped her pen. “Thank you for being so open and honest with me.”
I straightened in the seat. “I never asked you that question. What extended family do you have in your life?” I didn’t need a notebook or a pen. I’d remember every syllable that Aveline spoke.
Her smile was sad. “I guess I never told you this. My parents are from France. They moved here for work before I was born and applied for citizenship later. All of my extended family is in France. We’ve been a few times to visit family on my father’s side, but for the most part, it’s just the three of us here.”
My eyes crinkled in the corners as I processed her words. “Why did they move here? Leaving all their family behind?”
She hesitated before speaking. “I guess the same reason all immigrants move here? A better life? More opportunities?”
For the first time ever, her words didn’t seem sincere. What was she hiding from me?
“I should go. My parents will be home soon, and they won’t be happy if I’m not there.” She tossed her papers and pen onto the back seat before looking at me again.
“Aveline,” I paused, not sure if I should continue. “Why do you let your parents have this control over you? You said it was your mom who kept you from getting your first job. You’re a smart, capable twenty-two-year-old adult, racing home to your parents. Why?”
I knew the accident had caused the over protective nature of her parents, but I truly didn’t know why she perpetuated their behavior.
She bit her lip, staring into my eyes for a few seconds before speaking. “You think I’m capable?”
Fuck, had anyone ever believed in her? “Yes, I do.” I leaned over the console, my hands holding her tiny face. “I watched you communicate with a man who can’t respond, and yet you were in tune enough with him to figure out that he was listening to you. You connected with three jaded women in that apartment, and hell…” I inhaled a shaky breath. “You’ve even made me smile and laugh more times than I can count. So, fuck, yes. I think you should do anything you want.”
Her eyes closed, and she pulled back.
Shit, I’d gone too far.
She pulled off her glasses, folding them and placing them on the side of her seat. When she looked at me, twin tears ran down her face.
“What I want? I’ve already told you. I want to be with you as more than study partners. And you said no. And now you say those things to me. The sweetest words I’ve ever heard. And you kissed me like you did. I’m so confused. What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to think? Do you want me or not?” More tears followed, racing down her cheeks and my heart shattered.
I pressed my forehead to hers, my thumbs swiping away the tears. “I do want you, mariposa. So much it’s killing me. But I don’t want to hurt you. I’m different from you… rough and raw, and you’re delicate and sweet. You can’t end up hurt.”
Her hands grasped my stubbled cheeks, and she placed wet, tear-soaked kisses on my lips. “I’ll take the chance. I’ll risk getting hurt. I will, I promise. I’ll risk it for a chance to live some of this life with you. I want to ride on your bike. I want to dance in your arms. I want to… touch you. Everywhere.” She shivered at her own words and my body became charged.
“Please,” she kissed me again.
“Please.”
Our lips met, chastely at first and then with more force as she opened her mouth, sliding her tongue over the edge of my bottom lip. My tongue met hers and we moaned at the same time, swallowing the sounds. And when our tongues slid together this time, I knew my fight was over. I had to be with her. I was too far gone. I’d have to figure out a way to make it all work. I would protect her, let myself be with her, and still help my father. There was no other choice. No going back.
Aveline was mine.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Aveline
“GUESS WHAT?” I slid into the seat next to Ricky a few minutes before Dr. Redmond’s class was scheduled to start.
“What?” he asked, jean-clad legs stretched out in front of him.
I took him in, losing my train of thought. He was gorgeous, heat coiling in my belly at the sight. His hair was pulled back, exposing all those glorious tattoos on his neck and he wore his signature t-shirt, allowing me to fully see the symbols and drawings on his arms and hands.
I wanted to know what each one meant and why they were important to him. I licked my lips and Ricky growled.
“Mariposa, you’re licking your lips. Cut it out.” His voice was gravelly, the sound gruff and restrained, I wanted to lick them again to see what he would do.
“Sorry,” I breathed out. “I’m looking at your amazing tattoos.”
Ricky grinned, melting my heart. I loved making this angry man smile.
“Glad you like them. Still on for a tour of my work after this?” he asked.
I nodded, grinning to myself as I pulled out my laptop. Seeing Ricky’s primary place of work was the last piece I needed in my half of the class warfare project.
Dr. Redmond marched onto the stage and I looked over at Ricky, surprised to see him intently watching me.
“What were you going to tell me?” he asked, leaning over, his lips close to my ear.
“I got a job! I was hired by a firm that places interpreters in businesses and at events when they require translators. I start tomorrow. I have a cubicle and everything!” I gave a little shriek of joy and Ricky chuckled softly.
“And another good thing, maybe even better, my parents are away this weekend for a conference. I’d like to cook dinner for you Saturday night to celebrate. Can you come over?” My smile was wide as Ricky’s eyes sparkled, flashing with what looked like heat. Time alone was what I craved, and I hoped he did too.
“Hell, yes. I’ll be over after work. Probably eight o’clock. That okay?” he whispered as Dr. Redmond lowered the white board and projected her notes.
I nodded pressing my lips together to hold back another shout. Was this my life?
“We’re talking about Freud today, ladies and gentlemen.” Dr. Redmond settled her papers on the podium and faced her audience. “This is always a favorite lecture for my college students. Today is all about sex. Prepare yourself, folks. Freud blames all of our issues on not getting laid.”
Laughter broke out around us, but my heart beat faster. How could I possibly hear about sex when I was sitting next to the hottest guy on the planet?
I chanced a look at Ricky, and his eyes were squinted. Was this weird for him, too? My throat was dry. I swallowed hard against it. What would it feel like to finally touch him? Be touched by him?
“Freud tells us his theory that life is built around tension and pleasure,” Dr. Redmond explained.
“Any tension or stress you feel is due to pent up sexual energy. And that energy needs to be discharged.”
My body zinged with adrenaline, heart racing and body heating.
“There are five psychosexual stages. We will learn about each of them today. Each stage represents a fixation of sexual desire on a different part of the body. Oral, involving sucking or swallowing.”
My breath quickened, my head light. I shook myself to get with the program. Fainting during a sex lecture would seal my fate as a hopeless virgin for the rest of eternity.
“Anal or anus is the second stage—I’ll explain further in a bit—and the third stage, phallic, focuses on masturbation.” Dr. Redmond pointed to a columned chart describing the stages that she had displayed on her whiteboard.
I squirmed in my chair. My hands were clammy. I released a breath, blowing it out and then rubbed my palms against the length of my thighs.
“Latent is the stage with no sexual motivation present. Followed by genital, the penis and the vagina engaging in sexual intercourse.” Dr. Redmond’s voice was strong and centered. Meanwhile, I felt like I was walking along the edge of a cliff.
This was mortifying times a million. Listening to a lecture on sex, next to my idea of sex personified? Torture.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Ricky, totally focused on me. His mouth parted, I could see the vein in his neck beating furiously. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and I could swear he even looked flushed.
We struggled through this heightened state of awareness, waiting for the lecture to end. When Dr. Redmond trekked off the stage, Ricky leaned close. “You okay?” His breath washed over me, and he smelled like spicy cinnamon gum.
“Mmm-hmm.” My non-committal agreement had to be proof I was in overheated la-la land.
Ricky’s eyebrows raised, studying me before standing up. “Let’s get to the garage.”
He walked fast, his long legs making quick work of the distance to the parking garage. I followed closely behind, grateful for the late February chilly weather than ever before.
“Ride with me on my bike?” Ricky asked, his jaw set.
“Sure.” I wheezed, winded from the sharp anticipation of cradling his body between my spread legs and the rumble of the bike pounding between us.
At my car, we tossed both our bags into the trunk. His bike was parked two rows down. He handed me a helmet and I secured it, watching as he removed a second one for himself. He got on first, steadying the bike. With an ease that surprised myself, I slung one leg over, scooting up to plaster my body against his back. My thighs hugged the outside of his and I slipped my hands under his jacket, fisting his shirt in my hands. He growled, and it reverberated through my chest, making me giddy. Anticipation flowed through my veins and my stomach fluttered uncontrollably.
The engine roared to life and it buzzed between my legs. I had to clamp my mouth shut to stifle my reaction from the stimulation.
Ricky took off, flying out of the garage and down the road. Minutes later, he slowed, turning into an auto body shop.
The signage over the storefront read Ed’s Bike Shop. I noticed a For Sale by Owner poster in the window. Ricky shut off the engine, and I climbed off the bike, taking off my helmet and handing it to him.
“This is the bike shop. The owner’s away this week, looking at properties in Florida where he’s relocating.” He slid a keychain from his pocket and unlocked the door. I followed him in, past a small, cluttered office and into the main bay where a bike sat, parts spread on a white sheet.
“Do you like working here?” I asked, pulling out my notes.
Ricky didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, of all the jobs I’ve had, this is the best one.” He strolled around the bike, his eyes focused on the shiny red metal. “Bikes are my escape. I bought the bike I have for next to nothing. Got a loan from Ed, here, and that’s how I got the job, too. He saw how much I dug working on it and that I was decent. He hired me and trained me.”
I took a few notes and then looked up at him. “But you’re majoring in business. Do you think you’ll like working in an office setting?”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter much. Most of what I do isn’t because I like it. A business job will pay the most and that will help my family. I’d rather work with my hands, sure. But what I want isn’t important.”
He circled the bike, standing in front of me, arms crossed over his chest. “What’d you think of that lecture, mariposa?”
My eyes slid to the side, the floor, the ceiling. A slow burn traveled up my neck, settling
on my cheeks. “It was… interesting, Freud, you know…” I laughed, a weird, awkward, uncomfortable sound escaping my lips. God, I sounded like a freak. Get it together, girl. Instead of wringing my hands together, I pushed my glasses higher up on my nose.
Ricky looked down at me, his eyes crinkling, and lips curved. “Interesting, huh?”
My hands shot out to the sides, “I’m sure you know all about that stuff… the stages and sex and… yeah.” I blew out a breath, my cheeks puffing, in what I was sure was the sexiest look I’d managed to pull off yet. “I’ve only done some light reading. That was new to me and frankly, a bit uncomfortable to hear around you because of your general hotness and all.”
Did I say light reading?
General hotness?
Oh. My. God.
Ricky threw his head back and chortled. “You are the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen.” His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip. He took the paper and pen from my hand, tossing them onto the floor. “I won’t touch you here. Although, I’ll admit it’s probably my biggest fantasy, but you aren’t ready for that.”
Bending down, he picked me up, his hands lifting under my ass until I wrapped my legs around his waist. “You’re so tiny.” He smirked, his eyes focused on my lips.
I took off my glasses, placing them on the metal tool shelf next to us. My body shook, and I knew Ricky felt it when his grip on me tightened.
“I won’t hurt you, mariposa. You have my word that I’ll protect you. I’m not a good man, but I’ll be good to you.” He looked into my eyes, his warm brown orbs like melted chocolate.
“You are a good man. I wish you saw yourself like I see you.” My words pled, begging him to hear me.
Closing his eyes and shutting me out, he pressed his forehead to mine. “I need you,” he whispered. “I’ve never needed anyone like I need you. You’re open and vulnerable, kind and innocent. You’re unlike any girl I’ve ever met, and all I want to do is learn more about you. Understand all the parts that make you whole.”
