Absolution Road

by Rachel Blaufeld

  “You okay?” Jake caressed my arm, grabbing my attention.

  “Yeah.” I swallowed, then met his eyes. “My mom has dementia. She doesn’t remember much, and I only hope I don’t forget any of it.”

  “Well, listening to music is a good way to do that. Sounds to me like you’re gonna love tonight.”

  He grabbed my hand and led me to the shoe rental. After procuring the correct sizes and swapping them for our street shoes, we made our way to the Team Fizzle lanes, where Jake introduced me to everyone.

  His team was split into two groups of four, eight people in total. There were five guys and three women, including me. Two of the men were trainers and even bigger than Jake. The other women were front-desk greeters, and the last two men were sales staff. Fizzle was clearly a bigger operation than I imagined, and the people here obviously adored Jake.

  But there was something slightly off. Jake seemed to give so affectionately to his staff, but whenever they complimented him, he silently shrugged it off, seeming uncomfortable. We were having too much fun for me to slip into analyze mode, so I tucked the impression away to pull out later. Not willing to be pulled completely outside my comfort zone, I drank beer while the others drank something called Moscow Mules in iced copper mugs, and we all danced between rounds of bowling.

  When the Bee Gees came on, Jake grabbed me in his arms, literally tossing me up in the air and then catching me. “How’d you like that, Legs?” he teased, swinging me from side to side, then dipping me like earlier. But this time, he placed a quick kiss on my earlobe afterward.

  Sadly, my balls were drawn to the gutters, but Jake kept knocking all his pins down, making up for his sorry excuse of a partner. My cheeks hurt from grinning so much when we finally said good night to everyone.

  I leaned my head back into the plush leather as Jake drove me home. “It was a good night, thanks,” I murmured.

  Half of me was asleep, but the other half buzzed with some unidentifiable lust. Thanks to two beers, I was looser than usual, less stressed and not as OCD. When I met Jake in jail, I’d never imagined him to have this fun side. Of course, he was all flirty and seductive despite being behind bars, but there was something pensive, almost sullen, about his mood, and it seemed to follow him everywhere.

  Even when I ran into him at the bar at Roman’s with Camper, there was a touch of melancholy I couldn’t put my finger on. But tonight was different. He was looser, happier, more easygoing, and I loved it.

  Yet as we neared my place, some of the tension seeped back in. His face was pulled a slight bit taut, and I watched his hand white-knuckle the steering wheel. We made our way toward my neighborhood, the streets littered with college kids swaying and laughing, but when we reached my building, Jake drove right past it.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I’m looking for a parking spot.”

  “Oh.”

  “I thought I’d help you take Maverick out. It’s late, after midnight, and I don’t want you wandering the streets.”

  “Oh.” What the heck was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I form a simple sentence? “Um, I go out at night here all the time. Really, I’m fine.”

  “Not when I’m here, you don’t,” he murmured as he navigated the truck into a spot a block away from my place.

  I opened my door before he could get there, but as soon as I stepped out, he wrapped his hand around my elbow and guided me to the sidewalk.

  A group of rowdy guys wearing matching fraternity sweatshirts stumbled out of a building. “Hey! You two havin’ fun?” they called out, obviously drunk, barely able to put one foot in front of the other.

  “Take it easy, guys,” Jake warned.

  “Okay, big guy, we’re jus’ asking,” one of them slurred.

  “Well, ask someone else,” Jake said firmly, and hurried me up the steps to my building. At my door, he took my key and the lead with opening it up, then turned to me. “Why don’t you stay up here and I can let the little guy do his thing?”

  “Jake, this is my home, remember? We had this talk. I’m going.” I tossed my purse on the table and opened the crate, picking up Maverick and nuzzling him to my face as I whispered sweet nothings in his floppy ear.

  “Come on.” Clearly Jake was back to Mr. I’m-In-Charge. He leashed up the dog and held the door open, locking it behind us. We strolled the other direction this time, away from where the drunken dudes were, and let Maverick do his business.

  “I can take it from here,” I announced when we made it back to my steps.

  “No such luck,” Jake whispered into my ear, then tucked a loose piece of hair back into my ponytail.

  We walked in silence back to my door, Jake’s hand burning an imprint on my back, even though he was barely touching me. For the second time, he took my key and opened the door, letting the puppy loose to scurry to the corner and flop down on the rug.

  “Aly.” He seized the back of my neck and pulled my lips close, almost touching his but not quite. “You don’t have to be so tough.” With each word, his lips brushed along mine, his voice a low mumble, yet reverberating throughout the room.

  “I am that way,” I murmured back. “Tough.”

  “You don’t have to be with me.”

  I didn’t have a chance to respond as Jake’s lips landed directly on me this time. We were kissing as we walked backward until my back landed against the far wall. Jake grasped my ponytail and tugged my head back just a little, adding a tiny bit of exquisite pressure.

  If you’d asked me a week ago if I thought pain could be pleasurable, I would have been adamant the answer was no. But not now, because this tiny bit of pain was delicious. Pulling back my head exposed my neck, and Jake tore his mouth away and ran his tongue all the way down my face, over my jaw and straight to my clavicle. He sucked on a spot I hadn’t realized was so sensitive as he moaned, “Aly-cat.”

  My hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they slipped under his T-shirt. Up the wide expanse of his back they went, fingering each of his well-defined muscles that rippled like waves under my touch. When his thumb ran along the bottom seam of the lime-green TEAM FIZZLE T-shirt, tickling my abdomen, I tried to suck in my belly, to make it feel more muscular like the bodies he was probably used to groping.

  “Stop, I like it,” he told me as his thumb continued to map my stomach. “Stop doing that.”

  “Jake, wait,” I said breathlessly, and he froze. “It’s too much. I’m not ready for this. You being here, your hand up my shirt after just showing up.”

  He cleared his throat and reached down to adjust himself in his pants. “I know. I’ve got to stop. I don’t want to, but I will.”

  “If it makes you feel any better,” I said with a sad smile, “I don’t want to either. But this just isn’t me.”

  He planted a kiss on my cheek before granting me a sneaky, gorgeous smirk. “Me either. I usually don’t stop, but with you I think waiting is going to be worth it.”

  No longer melted butter, I was now full-on dripping off the plate and onto the floor butter.

  “Good night. Thanks for a great time,” I told him with a smile.

  “It was fun, but next time, I’m keeping you to myself. Good night, Legs.” Another kiss on the cheek, a wink and one more smirk, and he was out the door.

  Aly

  Thursday and Friday were quiet. I’d spent most of the time working on my caseload, running the stairs after work on Thursday. Drew showed up to run with me, and afterward, he asked if we could go eat.

  “I’m sorry, Drew. I can’t. It’s not you, it’s me,” I’d said, embarrassing myself by actually using that horrible line.

  Last night, I’d come home to do laundry. Leaning into the vibrating dryer in a Jake-induced fog, I almost came from the combination of the memories and the motion.

  Today Jake showed up at my door with a bottle of wine and promises of takeout if I let him take Maverick and me back to his place. I’d tried not to admit it, but I’d missed him
. Seeing his muscular frame looming at my threshold, wearing a pair of dark jeans and a black T-shirt, had me instantly sexually charged. I was like a dog in heat, and Jake was the stud sent to service me.

  “Let me get my stuff,” was all I said. I was still wearing my green blouse and a pair of black leggings I’d thrown on this morning to work some overtime in the law library. Without a peep, I just slipped on my lined moccasins and grabbed the dog leash. I should have been annoyed at how Jake just showed up with no notice, but there was some closeness between us, a familiarity I couldn’t put my finger on. It just felt right that he stopped by. Maybe it was the dog?

  Maverick jumped around the luxury truck, leaving drool and paw prints all over the backseat while I sat on my hands in the passenger seat, trying not to grab the driver and shove my tongue in his mouth.

  “You good?” Jake asked.

  “Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind. I’m carrying a crazy caseload to begin with, plus the whole department is working on this big case. I was working on it today.”

  “Oh yeah?” Jake gave me a sideways glance.

  “Actually, I shouldn’t say this, but it’s the guy you beat up. You may have seen it in the papers already. Apparently he’s being charged with several hate crimes, and my team was assigned to represent him. He maintains his innocence and his right to freedom of speech, posted some sort of outrageous bail even though he refused to pay for his own defense, and now we’re figuring out what to do with it all. My thoughts are obviously all mixed up on this one.”

  “Guy’s an ass. He should fry.”

  “Well, I’m somewhat responsible for his fate. I really wish he had someone else defending him. He’s making it impossible to do my job. He keeps clamming up and offers me nothing to go on when it comes to a defense. My partner, Barry, thinks he’s covering up for a woman, but I think that’s plain ludicrous. A woman? Please. He’d been dying to get out on bail, and now he finally has, but I’m afraid he’s going to go all renegade or something. Anyway, that’s probably more than I should say, and definitely more than you’re interested in. ” I let out a slow breath. “And honestly, I don’t feel like talking about him anymore. How was your day?”

  “I’m here if you need me, although I’ll admit I may not be a huge help.” He shrugged. “When it comes to rules and laws, they’re not really my specialty.” This time he winked and his grin was devilish.

  Geez, he’s such a bad boy. I’m in so over my head.

  “As for my day, the usual. Work out, then work, even though it’s the weekend, then work out and work some more. Saturdays are usually packed, and I like to pop in and make sure everyone knows I’m around. Not all the time, but most of the time. Being with you is the cherry on top of my day.” He turned my way and finished with a broad smile.

  “Really?” I asked, not sure why I needed affirmation.

  “Yeah.”

  “So, I don’t really do the whole gym workout thing,” I said, desperately needing a change of subject.

  “Well, you do something.”

  “Both eyes on the road,” I instructed, unable to take the heat of his gaze traveling the length of my body. “I run, usually the stairs at the cathedral.”

  “That’s a good workout, but do you go with a partner? Doesn’t seem like you should be traipsing around there alone. Maybe I should come along? I’m big and scary.”

  “I’ve been doing it for years, and lately, Drew meets me. Occasionally.”

  “What the fuck?” He shot another glance my way. “The guy you were at Roman’s with?”

  “He’s just a friend.” I crossed my arms in front of me like a defensive high school girl caught cheating with the football captain. Or whatever those cool girls did.

  “Hey! Sorry. What can I say? I don’t want to share those legs with anyone. So, if you ever want to hit the gym, I know of one. I can get you a few day passes.” He smiled, the corner of his mouth turning up in profile.

  “I’ll keep that in mind, but, seriously, you’re okay with the fact that I’m not into all that pumping iron and stuff?”

  “That’s my job and my hobby. It doesn’t have to be yours, Aly.”

  For some reason, my eyes filled, the tears threatening to drip down my face, but I kept them at bay. “You always surprise me, Jake. Why do you put on the whole hard-body, tough-guy thing so heavy? When inside you’re a softie?”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he said with a snort. “I’m a hard-body muscle builder. Isn’t that what I just said, that I’m scary and big?”

  He laughed loud and hard, and it was contagious. I grinned along with him.

  “Don’t worry about what you do, Aly. Like I said, working out is my hobby, not yours. Just be safe, okay?”

  Day was shifting to dusk as we traveled over one of Pittsburgh’s many bridges to the North Side. A pair of gargoyles stared us down from the ever-present scaffolding.

  “Honestly, I just meant that you’re this big tough guy to everyone else, barreling your way through arguments or fights, but in private, you have a sweet side. The way you let me be me. I’m uptight, I don’t work out on one of those fancy machines. I meant it as a compliment.”

  Jake chuckled. “Well, I don’t think I’ve ever been sweet with anyone but you. It’s new for me, so thank you. But you should know, no one has ever made me want to be sweet before. Which is meant to be a compliment to you, but also a warning that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

  His hand sought mine between the seats, grabbing my fingers and setting our entwined hands down on the center console. As we drove underneath an overpass, the fluorescent lighting illuminating our expressions, I imagined mine to be wistful when it should have been concerned.

  Turning into a row of modern townhouses lined up along the river, Jake announced, “Here we are!”

  Apparently detecting the excitement in Jake’s voice, Maverick stuck his blocky little head over the center console, dripping slobber all over our hands, his tiny tail thwacking against the seat, signaling he was ready to go on an adventure.

  Jake parked inside a garage and hopped out of the driver’s seat, hitting the button to close the door behind us. The sight of the garage door coming down made me feel closed in, as if I were being forced into this new stage of my life whether I was ready for it or not. Needing comfort, I gathered Mav into my arms and carried him out of the vehicle, snuggled against my chest. He was my shield, my protector, my guardian angel in a situation that was suddenly scaring the living shit out of me.

  “Let’s give the little guy a chance to piss before we go in. I shouldn’t have shut the garage door.” He raised the door again, and we walked out into the night. Begrudgingly, I hooked Mav’s leash on and set him down. He immediately found a bush he liked and squatted low.

  Jake snorted. “Hope the little dude lifts his leg soon. All this pissing like a chick is starting to concern me.”

  “Cut it out!” I said, smacking his arm playfully. “He’s fine. Actually, I read online today that it’s perfectly normal for male dogs to squat until even a year old.”

  Enveloping me in his embrace and running his palm down my arm, he whispered against my hair, “Don’t always believe everything you read online, but I love that you’re reading up on our puppy.”

  He guided me back into the garage and closed the door again, then ushered me through the smaller entry door to the house. “After you, madam,” he said with a mock bow, and I just laughed.

  Maverick plopped down at the bottom of the steps. He hadn’t mastered stairs yet because he hadn’t needed to. Every time we left my apartment, I carried him outside.

  “Come on, tough guy.” Jake scooped up the pup in one hand and took him up to the first floor, keeping him on his leash so he stayed close to us.

  “How about we order and then we can have a drink out on the balcony?”

  “Sure.”

  “Middle Eastern good for you? Grilled chicken and salad and rice?”
>
  I raised my eyebrow. “Do I get dessert?”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think I have anything for dessert here, but how about this. I’ll get something for the next time you’re over?”

  My cheeks warmed at the mention of next time, and I couldn’t form the words. So I nodded.

  Jake pulled his phone out of his back pocket and ordered the food. By the way the person on the other end of the phone greeted him, and Jake barely muttered his order before they hung up, he obviously called there often.

  “What would you like? Wine? Beer? Or something stronger?” he asked as he opened a cabinet of glassware in the kitchen.

  It was an open floor plan, the first floor one giant great room with a gourmet kitchen in the far corner. An enormous flat-screen TV was mounted to the back wall, a dark brown suede sectional sofa opposite it, and what looked like a hand-carved coffee table sat in between.

  “White’s good.” I watched Jake reach up and grab a wineglass, the back of his shirt riding up to reveal a chiseled back sloping into the waistband of his jeans. I prayed I wasn’t drooling like Maverick.

  He swung open the stainless fridge and retrieved a chilled bottle of chardonnay. Once he’d filled my glass and handed it to me, he poured himself a Scotch, then wrapped his other arm around me and led me outside. Mav came along, his leash now tied to Jake’s belt loop.

  The balcony faced the stadiums, both dark at the moment, but majestic nonetheless. Jake guided me toward the railing and I leaned up against it, pressing my hips against the wrought iron as I rested my forearms on the railing, holding my glass over the edge. He stepped up behind me and leaned his hardness into my back, his warmth seeping into my veins, heating me, curing me of a longing I didn’t know I had.

  An elevated cable car traveled up and down the hillside in the distance, stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky, and my body was ablaze. I was afraid someone would see and call the fire department.