Page 62 of Ruck Me Harder

When Al opens his mouth, she pinches his arm. And from the wince on his face, I’m guessing it hurts. Dutifully, he shuts up and focuses on his dinner.

The chicken fajitas are great. Tony also made a pot of brown rice, black beans, and an extra platter of veggies. There is a little dish of homemade pico de gallo, freshly sliced avocado, diced onions, cilantro, and fresh limes. A folded kitchen towel holds warm corn tortillas.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” I comment to Tony. “This is delicious.”

He gives me a shy smile. “Gotta eat.”

“You’re going to have to cook for me more often,” I tease.

His face goes pink, and he nods. “If you want me to.”

I cook because I have to, not because I enjoy it. Food is fuel. It’s not a hobby for me.

“I do.” Squeezing his leg again, I return my attention to the fantastic meal he prepared. I can taste the love and care he put into it.

After dinner, Al puts away the leftovers and Cari loads the dishwasher. I offer to help, but they all turn me down. Tony tugs me onto the sofa and pulls me into his arms. Shadow, his little kitten, jumps into his lap and starts kneading his thighs. I try to hide my flinch, and when the kitten doesn’t make any moves to scratch or bite me, I slowly start to relax. She’s not a murder kitty like the one we had growing up. I don’t have to be scared of her.

“Want to watch a movie?” he asks, reaching for the remote.

“Sure. Whatever you want.” I rest my head on his shoulder, breathing him in.

Shadow purrs and I chance a slow stroke of the top of her head. She leans into the contact, her motor going.

Tony and I haven’t had a lot of time to just hang out, clothes on. I’m a little relieved to realize I still like him with his clothes on. It’s more than physical chemistry. There’s something here.

And from the way he’s glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, hiding his smile, I think he’s feeling it too.

Al and Cari join us for the movie, an action-adventure film with lots of explosions and terribly misogynistic comments, where the female character is clearly meant to be a sex symbol and not an actually fleshed out person.

After one particularly heinous scene, Tony winces. “I did not know the movie would be like this. I regret everything.”

“We can turn it off,” Al says. “The Triumph are playing.”

So we turn on the basketball game, and as I settle back against Tony, it turns into a much nicer evening.

At ten, Cari stretches and gives a fake yawn. “Okay, I’m out,” she says, giving me a pointed look.

Oh. Does she want me to go home? Am I not supposed to stay?

“I’ve got earplugs and a white noise machine ready,” she goes on. “But I’d really rather not hear any noises, if you know what I mean.”

My face heats. Fuck. She’s not kicking me out; she’s expecting me to stay the night with her brother. Somehow, that’s even worse.

“We’ll keep it down,” Tony says, his entire body coiled and tense. “Good night.”

twenty-six

. . .

Tony

I lead Viv up to my bedroom. Since I took over the master when my parents moved out, I have my own private bathroom and a decent amount of space. I look over the room with a critical eye, wondering what she thinks. I’m not really much for decorating.

The walls are bare, no posters, no pictures. There’s a bed I put fresh sheets on this afternoon, a dresser, two nightstands, and an armchair in the corner. Shadow has a small bed and a basket of toys next to her tower. I’ve picked up the things I’d strewn about the room, but it still feels cluttered. Or maybe that’s just my imagination.

Viv looks around the room curiously. Folding my arms over my chest, I wait for her opinion.

“Where’s Shadow?” she asks.