Page 44 of Rebooked For Us
“I can’t believe you had the better aim.”
“I did,” Fee agreed, not even a little ashamed. “Ruben Simmons deserved every single one of those windows to come crashing down. Fuck him and fuck him some more.”
“He did,” I said. And he deserved more, especially for what he’d done to Ducane.
That was the part nobody talked about. One would think I broke those windows for me, because Ruben called me nothing, treated me like dirt under that fine ass shoe. But that wasn’t it, not really. I did it for the boy I watched chase that man’s approval. Ducane ground himself down to nothing trying to be enough for a father who’d already decided he wasn’t. I couldn’t fix that. I couldn’t make Ruben see his own son. But I could put marbles through his precious firm and let him feel a fraction of what he’d put on Ducane.
That was love too. The ugly, marble-shooting kind.
“Does Ducane know?” Airalynn asked.
“He does now.”
The voice came from right behind me, and it wasn’t mine.
We all froze, wide-eyed, and it was so funny I almost lost my composure, but I refused to turn around. Fee dropped off first with a snicker. Airalynn followed two seconds later.
I hung up and turned to face him.
“Breakfast is almost ready,” I said, avoiding his eyes. “Go shower.”
He stood there in his running clothes, muscles glistening with a grin on his face that told me he had been standing there longer than I wanted to know.
“I will, but first…” he said, kissing my temple. “I’d like to discuss the vandalism of my pops’ law firm.”
I exploded into laughter because I’d always hoped I’d get the chance to confess to him that I was riding even when I wasn’t in the vehicle. Even with my joy, the thought made me sad. I’m sure life had been fine for him without me, like it had been fine for me. But as Airalynn said, fine wasn’t enough. Not when we hadn’t done anything but love each other.
“You and Fee or you and Airalynn?” he asked, pinching his chin.
“It was Fee. We regret nothing.”
He shook his head and laughed.
“Mad at me?” I purred, pulling him down to me and pressing my lips to, sweat and all, because I didn’t care.
We pulled back, and he wiped his lips. “I could never be mad at you.”
“Sit. I’ll get our plates.”
I fixed us both plates with everything on them except the fruit. We always shared that, so I left it in one bowl between us. He dropped into the chair at the kitchen table and pulled me down into his lap,
I handed him his plate. My playlist was still playing low. We ate in silence for a second; the island breeze blew the sheer curtains around.
“He was so damn mad,” Ducane said. “It took him years to get over it. He’s been going off on ‘those damn kids’ for years.”
“We were aiming for five. He got lucky we only hit four before we started freaking out.”
He laughed into my hair. “What was your weapon of choice?”
“A slingshot.” I covered my mouth laughing. “We grabbed a bag of marbles from the Dollar Tree, put on gloves, and let it rip, tater chip.”
“I should’ve known it was you and Fee on bullshit.”
“It was my last fuck you to him. For us… I mean you, of course.”
He squeezed me a little tighter and didn’t say anything. I let that be what it was.
We sat there until the plates were empty and the coffee was cold.
