Was that his way of showing he cared about me?
“First, you give me some history about you, for my paper.”
When I lived with him, we didn’t talk much. It was more like do this, do that, sit here, hide there.
“There ain’t much to know. I grew up in a trailer near the water. Mom was strung out most of the time. The asshole that knocked her up left her strapped for cash. Or maybe that was the guy’s wife. Anyway, I didn’t have much of anything until I got a job.”
A job doing criminal activity, probably for the mob or something like it. I wasn’t ever privy to who the bad guys worked for. I just did what I was told until Mom got me out.
“Then life got a hell of a lot easier. Women came easy.” He pointedly stared at me. “I got to go on vacations and shit.”
“Was it worth it?”
“At the time.”
“And now, sitting here on death row, would you do it all again?”
“I can’t say. When you’re starving and you ain’t got clean clothes to wear to school. And damn if kids weren’t mean motherfuckers, you do what you have to.”
“A lot of people make it out without doing the shit you did.”
“Yeah. Well, a lot of people didn’t have johns and drug dealers coming to their house and a mother willing to trade you for her next hit because you look too much like the asshole who knocked her up and broke her poor fucking heart.”
I wanted to believe the worst of him. But even I felt bad for his life and the choices he had to make.
“What about you, kid? It’s easy to judge considering how you grew up. Did you have a nanny, someone to wipe your ass at your beck and call?”
“No. I wasn’t given everything I wanted. I had to earn it. There was no nanny.” But he knew that. I’d been too old for that when I’d been taken from his tender care. I snorted at that last thought. “I learned to sail and fish. Dad loves the water.”
“Yeah. Funny, I love the water too. Spent half my life there.”
“I didn’t like anything about water until Dad showed me his passion for it.”
“Sounds like you had a good father. Boys need a good father. Who knows what my life would have been like if mine hadn’t abandoned me.” He paused. “So are you graduating this year?”
I’d said I was working on my senior project.
“Yes.”
“Good for you. You seem like a good kid. Good thing you didn’t grow up like me.”
“I’d like to think that if I had, I wouldn’t have made the same choices you had and still ended up where I am today.”
His laugh was self-deprecating. “You’re right. You probably always had it in you to be a better man. I’d like to think that if I had a son, I would have found a way to make sure he ended up like you, even a daughter.”
Had he added that in to throw the guard off, or did he know he had a daughter somewhere?
“Are you certain you don’t have kids anywhere?”
“What guy who’s banged a chick can be sure about anything? But I can say no one has ever told me I was a father.”
His look, which the guard couldn’t see, said except your mother.
“Well, I think that’s it.”
He nodded and held his hand out. The guard was peeking out the tiny window in the door. He might have been signaling for someone to unlock it. I reached out and he clasped my hand. His was coarse, but familiar.
We’d let go before the guard turned back.
“Well,” he said, sounding slightly choked up. “If nothing else, I’ll remember my first and only visitor when they strap me in that chair. Put in your paper that I never killed no one despite what anyone thinks. I never did that.”
The guard had him unhooked, up, and shuffling to the door as he spoke.
I stood as the door closed, dumbfounded. He’d sounded so sure. But what did any criminal do but claim innocence? I’d seen things because I had been a curious kid. He didn’t know all I’d seen.
50
REAGAN
Though I had my ear buds in, I heard Megan calling my name. I got up and opened my door. Tade stood in the main doorway.
Megan made a disgusted sound. “Can you two not stare at each other like you haven’t seen each other for years?”
I waved him over. His long strides had him to me in seconds. He leaned down for a kiss.
“Come in,” I said, backing up and picking up a few things and tossing them in my closet.”
“So this is your room.”
He’d never been past our common area before. He’d walked me home a few times, but we mostly hung out at his place.
“We should have hung out here. Your room is bigger than mine.”
I had a double with no roommate. The quad was a three-bedroom suite with room for four. Out of the three of us, I got the lucky draw and ended up in the room for two by myself. I’d even pushed the two twin beds together.
When he picked up the Linus figurine from its place of prominence on my desk, I said, “I called you.”
I’d moved farther into the room, leaving several feet between us, and tried not to be distracted remembering how he’d called me brave when he’d given it to me.
“I saw that and thought I would come over instead of calling you.”
He put it back down and I found my words.
“Were you busy with your project?”
I couldn’t imagine that he couldn’t have texted me back. But I also didn’t want to come to the wrong conclusions.
“I went to see my father.”
That caught my attention.
“The one in jail?”
“Yes, and today was the only day I could see him.”
“Oh.”
Though I’d never been to a jail before, I assumed he couldn’t take his phone in with him.
“Why now? What was the rush?”
He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “He won’t be there long. And finding out about—” he held his arms out toward me like in offering. I glanced down at my still flat belly. “—I had questions about my birth mother.”
That made sense.
“Did he answer them?”
He stepped closer. “Not much more than I already knew, if I can believe him.”
“What did you want to know?”
The distance between us continued to evaporate.
“I’m not sure. But I came to realize it didn’t matter. She’s gone from my life, willingly, if my father is to be believed. What matters is you and our kid.”
“I’ve been thinking about that too. There are some things you need to know.”
He was a breath away from me now.
“Like what?”
“Like my mother is crazy.”
That made him chuckle. “Aren’t we all a little crazy at times?”
“No, I mean like on meds crazy, what if—”
He stole my breath, pressing his soft lips to mine.
“My dad is on death row.”
If I thought I couldn’t breathe before, I surely couldn’t then. He had said his dad wouldn’t see the light of day out of there. I’d assumed he was in for life, not for death.
“Do you think any less of me for that?” he asked.
“No.” I felt my face screw up in an expression of disbelief. “You’re not your father.”
“And you’re not your mother.”
“But you don’t understand. There’s more.”
He grasped the sides of my arms. “You have a past. So do I. My father is in jail, remember?”
“But you were raised by his sister.”
“Not always. I’ve done things.” His hands dropped away and he tented them over his mouth while blowing out air. “And I ask you again: Would you judge me on my past deeds or who I am now?”
The man before me was good. He may not be perfect, but what I saw, the way he treated others wasn’t bad. Had he broken a few hearts? Sure. But from everything I’d heard he hadn’t lied about who he was or made any
promises he didn’t keep.
“What matters is who you are now.” If it didn’t, no one could ever redeem themselves. “But Tade—”
He stopped me with a shake of his head. “You have a past too. But what matters to me is the woman I fell in love with. Let’s leave the past alone and forget who our parents are. I’m not in love with your mother. I’m in love with you.”
“Medically, our history—” I said.
“If it comes to that, we’ll figure it out. I don’t know much about my mother so there will always be a hole there.”
“There’s also the fact that I’m not sure I can do this.”
Tears spilled from my eyes.
“I know you haven’t asked, but I can financially take care of the three of us.”
“It’s not that. Mentally or physically, I’m not sure I can do this.”
Pulled into his embrace, I felt safe and listened to his heartbeat as he spoke.
“If there’s one thing I got out of my conversation with my father, it’s that life can throw shit at you that you have no control over. But that isn’t what defines who you are. It’s the choices you can make that decide your character. We can get through this together if you allow it. No matter what you decide, I’ll be there right by your side.”
“I’m afraid,” I admitted.
“It wasn’t exactly my plan either. But I wouldn’t trade finding you for the world. Now are you going to marry me or what?”
I laughed at his rumbling question. Pulling back, I licked my lips.
“I’m not going to marry you.” I hated the hurt in his expression. “I don’t think we should get married just because I’m pregnant.”
“Is this it? Is this your decision?”
“I’m not ready for a kid.” I shook my head. “I don’t think you are either.”
“Reagan—”
“No, let me finish.” He nodded. “As much as I think going through this might kill me, I don’t have it in me to kill anyone else, including this baby.”
He blew out a breath.
I continued. “I also want to try to make this relationship with you work before we do anything like get married.”
His green eyes were as dark as the forest at night and almost as impenetrable. He slid a hand into his pocket and brought out something that twinkled under the light.
“Then think of this as a promise to marry you the day you’re ready.”
He lifted my hand and slid the ring on my finger. I gasped; it was larger than my mother’s ring.
“Tade—”
His head slowly shook. “It’s a gift no matter what you decide.”
Lifting onto my toes, I pressed my lips to his.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you too, Biscuit.”
I moved back enough to get my hands on the buttons of his shirt. He must have dressed up for his visit with his dad, I thought as I undid them one by one until the shirt parted. When it opened, I slid a finger down the line of exposed skin to stop at the waistline of his jeans before glancing up into the depths of his eyes. I tapped the button once before moving to shove the shirt off his arms.
Using my palm, I explored the tight planes and well-defined ridges. He caught my hand and pulled me tightly to him. Then he crushed his lips to mine. I looped an arm around his neck, drawing him closer, needing to feel the line of his body pressed to mine.
His hand slid down to my ass to hoist me up, urging me to wind my legs around his waist. I did and we fell on my bed. I pushed at his jeans until he shook out of them, leaving his cock straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs.
I lifted my hips as he helped me out of the flannel shorts I’d worn for bed. Need grew like a five-alarm fire as I struggled with the urgency for him to sate what clawed within me.
His impatient hands tore away my underwear. So much for them, I thought as he tossed them aside. When his head dipped and he crawled back, I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“No, I need you in me now.”
Shock momentarily paralyzed him. I hadn’t been this vocal before about what I wanted. But damn if all the fears I had about men, about him, hadn’t disappeared. With that came a desire so strong, it broke down any shyness on my part.
Curling my legs around him, I helped push at his boxer briefs with my feet until they disappeared somewhere on the floor.
Patient man as he was, he dipped a finger inside me testing for my readiness. He found me wet—soaking, most likely—and needing him more badly that I had needed anything in my entire life.
I wasn’t wearing a bra, so when he used the other hand to shove my shirt up, my breasts spilled out, nipples already hard. He sucked in a bud and I bucked as I thought I would die if he didn’t get inside me soon.
“Please, Tade.”
Fingers disappeared from my center as he angled the head to my opening. Then he was inside me and he cursed under his breath.
I sucked in air as he filled my insides, stretching me tightly. Clawing at his back, I raked nails down his spine until I had a firm grip on his ass. I tugged him closer, urging him to move.
“Fuck, Biscuit, you’re going to make this end before it begins if you don’t stop.”
“I’m so close.”
It shouldn’t have been possible. He’d barely been inside me long enough for him to finish. Disappointment had me crying out when he pulled out of me.
“Let me help you with that so we can take our time with your second one.”
His mouth covered my clit, sucking at it a moment before he used his tongue. He curled a finger and then another inside me until I lost it, crying out as waves and shocks took over my world for long moments.
He kept going until I came down. Then he positioned himself above me, and pushed in. I wasn’t sure what changed, but it felt like he wouldn’t fit where he had been moments before.
“Damn you’re tight,” he muttered.
I cupped a hand at his nape to bring him in for a kiss. No time for talking; I wanted him to move. When he did, every stroke brought me closer to the edge I’d just tumbled over.
Digging my nails into his ass, I met him stroke for stroke, wanting speed. He reached around and caught my wrist, bringing it over my head.
“Just a minute.” His voice came out wild and rough.
I stared at him, realizing just how much I trusted him. Our eyes locked a second, before his head dipped.
He ran his mouth down the line of my throat as he began to pump inside me again. Then the world quaked. He wasn’t done with me. His speed picked up as he cursed words I’d lost the ability to understand.
“I can’t take much more.”
“You can,” he demanded as he slid in and out of me, my panting covering the sound of our skin slapping together.
When he came, jerking inside me, I came for a third time, crying out his name.
His weight settled on mine for a minute before he rolled us over. We lay there panting.
Slowly, he began to rock himself inside me. He was still hard.
“You can’t possibly be ready again.”
“With you, anything’s possible.”
I couldn’t count the number of times I’d orgasmed. My body felt loose and oddly limber as I curled against his side when I woke up the next morning.
“Don’t you have practice?”
Even though we graduated in two weeks, Tade’s season didn’t end until the end of May, maybe in June if they went to championships.
“Shit,” he said, checking the clock on his phone.
He kissed me, then rolled off the bed, hopping to get into his jeans. I admired his long muscled frame. The man was perfection.
Megan appeared in my doorway after I heard the front door close.
“My goodness, the two of you went at it last night.”
I covered my face in embarrassment. Then she squeaked, snatching my hand and staring at the ring.
“You’re engaged.”
She b
ounced up and down as I tried to tell her I wasn’t.
“We’re not engaged,” I said when she quieted.
Her frown came quick.
“But he’s betting that one day we will be,” I finished slowly, letting a smile grow on my face, confusing her and maybe a little bit of me because I wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t right.
51
TADE
She wore my ring and shared my bed every night, and I planned for that to be a permanent solution.
Finals were done and my project was turned in, and I’d been cleared for graduation. The Thursday before, Gavin and I sat in my living room playing a video game. I’d told him that I’d asked Biscuit to marry me.
“I can’t believe that’s your answer to her little problem,” Gavin said, echoing what he’d said when he’d gone to the jewelry store with me to pick out a ring.
“Like I said the first time, it’s not her problem. It’s ours.”
He held up a hand. “Yeah…right. Just tell me one thing.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“If she wasn’t pregnant, would you have married her?”
That was easy. “Yes.” His stiff nod said he understood but I added more. “Maybe I wouldn’t have asked her so soon, but I would have eventually.”
“Well if it has to be somebody, I’m glad it’s her. She’s good people even though she thinks I’m an asshole because of her friend.” He paused, his tone turning serious. “Speaking of being an asshole, you could have told me Shawn wanted you to hook him up with Megan.”
Shit.
“Thanks, asshole. I thought we were friends,” he added.
“You told me that nothing was going on between you and her. And I need Shawn in one piece to finish out the season, so don’t kill him.”
We had two more meets after graduation.
He raised an arm. “You don’t need him when you have me.”
“Tell me you can bench what you did before and I’ll move him off. He always has next year.” Gavin looked away. “Exactly. As far as Megan, she’s not into Shawn.”
He whipped his head in my direction. “How do you know?”
“The boy hasn’t dipped his wick. He’s complained about it to me, if you can believe that. If I were a betting man, I would guess she’s trying to piss you off.”
Because of Him Page 19
