Raw (RAW Family #1)(67)

For Twitch, that was kind of sweet. And very macho. And seriously sexist.

The feminist in me booed and hissed, while the horny teenager in me slumped against a wall and sighed dreamily.

Not wanting him to know that, I teased, “You’re my stalker. I couldn’t get rid of you if I tried.”

His lips twitched. “I like Lexi. She’s funny. Not a huge fan of Alexa, though. She kinda sucks.”

I was confused. “But I’m Alexa. And Lexi. We’re the same person.”

He grinned hugely, “No. You’re not. Just like I’m Twitch sometimes, but I’m also…” My eyes widened.

Please tell me. Open up to me. Please.

His smile faltered only a second before he said, “C’mon. Let’s go home.”

Home.

With Twitch.

That felt so right that my mind wasn’t able to form words. Mouth parted, I simply nodded, and off we went.

Home.





Spending the afternoon with Lexi was crazy.

It was crazy because I don’t remember a time in my life when I laughed so much or smiled so hard. The woman is a serious clown. She’s adorably goofy. And I love that.

I never thought it could be this way with the two of us.

She says she loves me. And when she said it in anger, I knew it was true. I can’t tell her how I feel about her yet. I need her to know me – all of me – before I can tell her that. I have my reasons.

We spent the day outdoors. She dressed herself in the bright yellow sundress I bought her, after an argument which lasted almost an hour about me buying her things. She lectured me about people starving around the world, and about kids living on the streets. She only gave up her argument when I blurted, “I know, Lex. I was a street kid. So I get it.” Her face turned soft and her argument died. I added, “Just wanted to do something nice for my girl, okay?”

Standing by her dresser, she answered quietly, “Okay, honey.”

Like I said, I always win.

I showed her some of my favorite places in the city, including a small Italian café where we had something light for dinner. She said smiling, “You like Italian food, huh?”

Leaning back in my chair, I told her, “I think it’s got something to do with my heritage. I love Italian food. It’s my favorite.”

She smiled harder. I’m sure it had something to do with the fact that I was slowly giving her information about myself. “Okay, then. I’ll remember that,” she uttered.

Hand-in-hand, we walked all over, mostly in silence, but every now and then explaining to the other what places we liked and why.

I found out that Lexi loves Mexican food. The spicier the better. She also told me that she made a mean cocoa, as long as I didn’t mind a lot of booze in it. She mentioned her brother, which held my attention. She said he was a great brother and was extremely protective. When I asked where he was, she pulled her emotions back inside of her and told me blankly that she hadn’t spoken to him in a while, but the last time she checked, he was back in the US.

It made my chest ache for her.

The funny thing was that even though I knew everything she was telling me, it sounded like brand new information coming from her mouth. Like the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about her friends, Nikki and Dave.

Nikki and Lexi were roommates in University. Dave happened to attend the same University and worked at the campus coffee shop. Dave being gay was hassled on a daily basis, and one day spilled coffee on a male customer. Not thinking, Dave grabbed a handful of napkins, and apologizing, started to wipe the coffee off the customer. That was when the customer called Dave a faggot, knocked him to the ground, and started laying into him. Lexi and Nikki watched in horror for all of ten seconds before they took their book bags to the man and managed to knock him out cold. Smiling, she explained, “We were arrested, but the charges were dropped. Dave came to visit us the next day in our dorm, and started the conversation with ‘well, aren’t you all just a bunch of crazy bitches!’” She laughed openly, “And we’ve been friends ever since, even though Nikki and Dave have this stupid rivalry going on.”

I was about to ask her about her family when she blurted out, “So, Happy, huh? He’s like, gay or bi-sexual or something?”

That threw me off. “What?” I was confused.

She just played with my fingers, and I asked through narrowed eyes, “What do you know, Angel?”

“Just that he’s enjoying the company of Dave. And Nikki. So I just assumed he was gay, but he’d definitely be bi then, wouldn’t he?”

I told her pointedly, “He’s not anything. He’s just Happy.” She looked at me like I was crazy when I reminded her gently but firmly, “You know how I feel about labels. Happy likes what he likes. He doesn’t need a label.”

Her brows rose in thought. She nodded once. “Okies.”

“Okies?”

“You know? It’s like okay, but cuter.”

Staring into her laughing eyes, I muttered, “Okies?”

She burst into laughter, and I watched the way her face bunched in delight; her full lips framed her straight, white teeth, and it was then that I knew I was a goner.

Which brings us to now, chilling in my bed, watching TV with my girl.

“Why are you like this?” Lexi asks softly, as she reaches for my hand in the subtly-lit room. She entwines our fingers and whispers, “Something bad happened to you.”