Rough & Real

by Hayley Faiman

  I gaze at myself in the mirror, holding my shirt up to my waist so that I can see the full length of the skinny jeans. They have accented my now leaner legs and trimmer waist, without even an ounce of muffin top. I’m unable to hold back my smile as I look at myself.

  “Those look so awesome on you. Let me get you some different cuts though, that way you can find your favorites. I usually rotate between, straight and skinny legs, depending on my shoes,” she smiles.

  I thank her and watch as she walks around the store. “I’m going to get you some tops too,” she calls out.

  That’s how I spend the rest of my Friday afternoon. Shopping. I buy more than I need going to several different stores, including Victoria’s Secret. By the time I need to head back to start the pick-up rounds with the kids, I feel a lot better.

  In fact, I feel almost rejuvenated.

  I make an appointment with my hairdresser to finish out my new style. I decide I need to change my hair as well. I don’t know if West will like it, if he’ll even care, but I’ve decided I can’t worry about him anymore. I need to focus on myself, on what makes me happy, and on my children.

  My babies will always, always come first for me. They have since the moment I knew they existed and they will continue to. That doesn’t mean that I have to let myself go though. I need to find a healthy balance, and I’m starting now.

  Walking into the clubhouse I head toward the bar. My only thought is to drink and do so heavily. It’s pretty quiet right now, but it’s Friday, so I know in a few hours a party will assuredly take place. Right now, all I can think about is the bottle of tequila I’m going to decimate.

  Pulling the cork out of the top, I take a healthy swig straight from the bottle, then I walk over to one of the tables and chairs and sit down. Patron is my drink of choice, so I plan on drinking as much of my bottle as possible tonight. “What happened? Wife or kids?” Torch asks as he sinks down into the chair next to mine.

  “Wife,” I grunt.

  Torch, the clubs current Sergeant of Arms, clears his throat but doesn’t say anything. I can tell there’s something on his mind. “Spit it out.” Taking another swig of booze, I turn to him. I shake my head as I wait for him to speak.

  “You been spending a lot of time down here. She’s been spending a lot of time at the gym,” he points out.

  “Thanks, Captain Obvious,” I growl.

  Torch lets out a bark of laughter. “What I’m saying is that you two aren’t spending a whole lot of time together.”

  I lift my chin in acknowledgment. He’s right. We don’t. I don’t hate her, and I don’t dislike her. The truth is, that I love her, and I will always love her. She’s still sexy as ever, even if she’s lost some of the curves I enjoyed. It’s just, that, I’m not sure we’re sexually compatible anymore.

  Sure, she’s comfortable, she’s my home, being inside her still feels incredible, but I want different things—things I couldn’t ever tell her. Things I wouldn’t tell her because she’s my wife, and you aren’t supposed to want those things with your wife. We are not Grease and Serina, being on display like they are, isn’t something she would be okay with.

  “We aren’t the same,” I murmur as that truth slams into me like a freight train.

  We are not the same. I am not the kid I was when I met her. We are not the same people now. She’s the mother of my children, she takes care of the house and the kids. I can’t do to her what I want to do. It somehow doesn’t feel right to even broach the topic to her.

  Torch lets out a bark of laughter. “No fucking shit. You’ve had three kids, you’ll never be the same. Me and Cleo, we aren’t the same as when we met or when we found each other again. We’ve grown and we work hard to grow together. You two don’t seem to be working hard at much, together.”

  I run my hand over my face and let out a heavy exhale. “She told me it wasn’t working today. I said the same and left,” I admit.

  Torch doesn’t say anything for what feels like ten minutes. Then he speaks. “I think just those few words tell a lot. You told her it wasn’t working either, and you just left. When did you really check out, Camo?” he asks quietly.

  I press my lips together before I bite my tongue. Closing my eyes, I think about all of the time I went inside of the free-for-all room, instead of going home to my warm, waiting, and willing wife. I think about all of the times I pictured fucking her right there in the open while people watched, maybe even letting someone else touch her. Going up to my room and jacking off, instead of going home.

  I checked out around the time Reid was born, nine years ago. I’ve been like a robot, doing the things I need to do, day-to-day, but nothing more.

  “Your silence is telling,” he rumbles. “If you don’t want to be married anymore, then you need to talk to your wife. Ivy is a good woman, she’s a level-headed woman. You have three children to worry about, brother.” Torch stands and I watch him walk away from me.

  I feel like shit—like a fucking asshole. The realization that I fucking checked out of my marriage a decade ago, makes me feel physically ill. He’s right though, I have three kids to worry about. Me and Ivy may not be good right now, but we have to be for the kids.

  Letting out a breath, I stand, thankful that I didn’t drink too much. I need to get home to my wife, to my kids, and I need to stop running. It’s time to try and face this shit like a man.

  I’m not sure that I’m ready for my sisters and mother to hate me, for my kids to be pissed at me, or to walk away from the only woman I have ever loved. But I do know that I can’t continue on this way anymore.

  Straddling my bike, I start the engine, surprised to see the sun setting in the distance. The short ride home doesn’t give me much time to think, but when I pull into the driveway, I feel a wave of sadness. I know what the right thing to do is. I can feel it deep in my bones, but it isn’t going to make this any easier.

  Walking through the front door I’m surprised that Ivy isn’t in the kitchen cooking, in fact, she’s nowhere to be seen from the living room. Reid and Remi are on the couch watching cartoons. Rosalie is nowhere to be seen, either. Walking over to my boys, I ruffle their hair, but they don’t even realize I’m there, they’re so immersed in their show.

  I decide to head to the master bedroom, in hopes of finding Ivy there. Walking into the room I stop dead in my tracks. Ivy is standing in the middle of the room, a pair of tight as fuck jeans on her legs, wearing red high heels, and a skintight black, low-cut, tank top. Her hair is up in a messy knot on top of her head, and she’s wearing a thick layer of makeup.

  “What the fuck is going on in here?” I shout.

  She jumps, her body stiffening before she turns to face me completely. She looks smokin’, absolutely fucking smokin’. My cock presses against the zipper of my jeans in search of her warm body. “I’m going out,” she shrugs as she walks over to the bed and grabs a small purse.

  “Like hell you are,” I growl.

  Reaching out to her, I wrap my hand around her waist and tug her against my chest. Lowering my head, I let my lips skim her cheek over to her ear. “You aren’t going anywhere but in my bed, or on the back of my bike, dressed like that,” I murmur.

  My mission of our talk, of walking away from our marriage has completely been abandoned. One look at my wife and I’ve forgotten why I even wanted to speak with her.

  Lifting her arms, she presses the flats of her palms against my chest and attempts to push me. I don’t move, my hand tightening around her hip and my other one pressing against the middle of her back. “I’m going out with Chad and Brian to Bullseye,” she states.

  My eyes narrow and my nostrils flare just thinking about her going out with two men, and to Bullseye. The last time she went there was when we first met, she got tanked, I took her back to her place and took advantage of her. No way in fuck is she going there alone.

  “I’ll take you,” I announce. She shakes her head in some kind of attempt to be defiant. Lowering my hea
d again so that my nose is practically touching hers, I speak. “You aren’t going out alone, Ivy. I don’t know those fucks, and no way in hell are you going out unprotected, at all.”

  “Fine, suit yourself,” she whispers. Her eyes deceive her, that warm brown gaze of hers is good and pissed off.

  With a smile I ask, “Is there some kind of reason you don’t want me to meet your friends?”

  “They’re gay, West. They’re lovers. I don’t care if you meet them.”

  “But you don’t want me going out with you?” I ask, guessing at her irritation.

  She bites the corner of her lip. “You fucked me, and left me, on the bed. You told me this wasn’t working for you anymore, either, and you walked away. Now you’re right here in front of me, and you want to go out with me?” she asks, her brows knitting together.

  “I’ll fuck you again tonight, baby. I’ll take my time, too. We need to spend some time together. Now let’s go and enjoy the evening,” I say, ignoring most of her concerns.

  I don’t want to admit that I almost left her tonight. I don’t want to admit that I have desires that she probably couldn’t fulfill, or would wish to fulfill. I don’t want to admit that we’ve been drifting apart for as long as we have, that I’ve been hiding who I am, and what I want from her.

  Part of me wants shit to go back to the way it was, that moment I walked into Carlotta’s, the first time. When I saw her cleaning up after her shift.

  I want us back, but I also want more—I want different. I want to be better to her, and for her.

  I don’t know what the fuck I want anymore.

  Wrapping my arms tight around his back I wonder what in the hell is happening with my husband? We leave the kids with their cousin Tori for the evening and head toward the bar.

  Once he pulls into the parking lot of Bullseye, he nudges his kickstand down, and I quickly throw my leg around to get off of his bike, as I pull the helmet off. I’m sure my once styled blonde hair looks like complete crap now. Lifting my hand, I try to fix it as best as I can without a mirror. In the end, I don’t really care too much about it. It’s not as if I’m trolling for a man, tonight.

  “You look good, baby,” he murmurs in his gentle voice.

  It’s a tone I haven’t heard in a while, and I turn my head and look at him in surprise. I watch as he throws his leg over his bike as well. He reaches out, wrapping his hands around my waist, and his eyes look down at where he’s holding me. “When’d you get so fucking skinny?” he whispers in disbelief.

  “I’ve been working out and eating clean for three months, West,” I say keeping my voice even, and trying not to sound as confused as I am by his sudden awe.

  He squeezes my waist before lifting his gaze to me. “I know you have, Ivy, but baby you’re tiny. You doing all this shit so you can leave me?” he asks.

  I swear my heart shatters. It breaks into a million pieces because I’ve thought about it. I know he’s thought about it, too. We’re both broken right now. Struggling to make this work, and most days have seemed pretty bleak lately.

  Then, this beautiful man looks at me with doubt in his eyes and I want to reassure him that everything, will be okay. That I’ll never leave him, that we’ll grow old together. I can’t blindly promise those things right now though, no matter how badly I want to. The truth is, I don’t know.

  Looking up to him, I give him the only answer I can. “I did this for me, West. I wanted to feel better about myself when I looked in the mirror. Sure, what you said triggered that, but I hadn’t been feeling that great for a while. Now, I look in the mirror, and I know that I’m not perfect, but I also feel really great about myself. It’s something I haven’t felt in a long time.”

  One of his hands lifts to cup my cheek and his thumb slides across my bottom lip. “Then, baby, keep doing it. I love you no matter what you look like, regardless of what I said. You know I didn’t mean it. You look just as beautiful and sexy today as you did three months ago, and same with the day I met you. You’re always gorgeous.”

  I don’t get a chance to respond as he lowers his mouth and presses his lips to mine, slipping his tongue past and quickly tasting me. He doesn’t linger, standing straight and keeping one of his hands wrapped around my waist. We walk together, toward the entrance. I’m a bit dumbfounded, unsure of what to say. Unsure of what I’m feeling.

  I thought it was over—I thought we were over.

  Now, I’m not so sure.

  The bar is loud, and as soon as we step inside, it doesn’t take me long to find Chad and Brian. They’re sitting off to the side at a table for four. Chad sees us first, and his mouth drops slightly. I don’t know if he’s surprised at my form-fitting new clothes, or at seeing West for the first time—probably a mixture of both.

  “You want a beer?” West asks.

  I turn to him and shake my head. Lifting up on my toes a bit I shout that I’ll have a Captain Morgan and a Diet Coke. His eyes widen in surprise. “Less calories and no sugar,” I shrug. His eyes narrow before he lifts his chin.

  “Go sit with your friends, I’ll be right over,” he shouts over the music.

  We separate and I weave through the small crowd toward Chad and Brian. When I arrive, Chad stands and practically jumps toward me. He gives me a small hug and wraps his hands around my shoulders giving me a little shake. “I am a miracle worker, and you have the body of a twenty-year-old,” he announces.

  “I went shopping today. I figured it was time to buy some things that actually fit,” I shrug.

  He gives me a wide smile. “Who is the sexy beast that looks like he wants to kill me? You’re cheating on your husband, right? That’s why you seemed so gloomy earlier?”

  “No, that’s West,” I giggle shaking my head. “He does look like a beast though.”

  Chad guides me over to the table, and I say hello to Brian, giving him a small hug before I sit down across from them in my seat. “Seriously, I didn’t know, Ivy. Although I should have known you could snag a man that fine, no matter what. He’s hot,” Chad sighs.

  “Keep it in your pants, birthday boy,” Brian grunts.

  I can’t help but laugh at the two of them. I don’t often see them interact in a setting that isn’t the gym. They’re always so professional at work that it’s kind of nice to see them outside of their normal workspace. They go quiet a few seconds later, and that’s when I know that West has arrived.

  “Chad, Brian, this is my husband West,” I introduce. West gives them chin lifts and a grunt as he places my drink down, then sits down beside me.

  Brian clears his throat. “So, West. What is it you do for a living?”

  I can feel West’s eyes on me, then they shift away and move back toward Brian. “I’m a Notorious Devil,” he states. I don’t know why he says anything, he’s wearing his cut which clearly states exactly who and what he is.

  “Forgive me, I’m not sure what that is,” Brian murmurs.

  I’m pretty certain it’s a lie. Brian is from here, and everybody in Shasta knows exactly who the Notorious Devils are.

  West shakes his head with a smirk playing on his lips, though I’m not sure anybody else could see them beneath his scraggly beard. “I’m a member of a Motorcycle Club. I work for them, I’m the Road Captain,” he shrugs.

  “Okay, we’re doing shots. It’s my birthday, and I want to get white girl wasted,” Chad announces.

  I watch in amusement as he stands and walks over to the bar. Brian shakes his head and excuses himself as he follows after him.

  West turns to me, and I notice that his eyes are smiling. It’s something I haven’t seen from him in a while. “They’re crazy, baby,” he chuckles. “I like them though.”

  I’m taken aback by his words, however, a smile forms on my lips. I’m happy that he likes my new friends. I also can’t deny that I’m enjoying having him sitting next to me right now. I’m glad that I’m not trying to figure out how I’m going to make it in this world without him at my side.


  Maybe all of this, is just the kick in the ass we needed. I hope that whatever has been between us lately, is now on its way out, and we can go from here. That we can find our way back together and be a stronger couple in the end.

  I watch her drink Captain and Coke, after Captain and Coke. She hasn’t eaten that I know of, and her words start to slur about two hours into the evening. Chad’s words are slurring as well, and I lift a brow to Brian when Chad announces that it’s time to dance. He reaches over and wraps his fingers around Ivy’s hand, trying to force her to stand. I watch as she rises from her feet with a sway, then together they go out to the dance floor.

  “You know, she’s really special,” Brian announces as soon as they walk away from the table.

  Turning to him I lift a brow in question. “She is,” I agree.

  “She loves her family a hell of a lot,” he states. I give him a nod because she does. Ivy lives for our kids, she always has. “I just… I thought you should know.”

  I look at him in confusion, but he turns away from me to watch the dance floor. I don’t know why he’s announced how much Ivy loves her family as if I didn’t know. I do know. Her love for me, for our kids, it has nothing to do with our issues. It doesn’t mean that we will always be perfect.

  We sit in silence watching the crowd. Well, I only have eyes for my wife. She’s dancing closer to Chad than I would prefer, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m not threatened by him in the slightest. I can tell that there’s nothing between them but friendship, and both he and Brian seem like a happy couple.

  When they make their way back to the table, I stand. I’m finished for the evening. I’ve been sitting next to my sexy wife sporting a semi all night, and now, I’m going to fuck her. “What, why are you standing?” She giggles as she launches herself at my chest.