Ride Steady (Chaos #3)(34)

So he had liked my pie.

And last, there was that kiss.

Truthfully, the rest could go away and the kiss could remain and it was so good, I’d still want more.

He acted like he could take me or leave me, but even if I’d only ever kissed Aaron, I’d kissed him a lot and we’d never (not ever) shared a kiss like that.

I didn’t know what was holding Joker back. I may only have had Aaron as experience but there was no way to miss Joker had been into that kiss. A woman throws herself in your arms and you don’t want that, you push her away. You don’t stick your tongue in her mouth, redefine her world, and shuffle her straight to your bed.

He liked it as much as me.

But I didn’t care what was holding him back. I was just going to do whatever I could to put a stop to it.

I looked around his room that now had a stripped bed, four pillowcases full of dirty clothes, a box filled with bottles to recycle, and two huge black trash bags filled with trash. Then I looked down at me, wearing my red Converse, my cuffed boyfriend jeans with the holes in the knees (and up the thighs), my cute tee that declared my devotion to Betty Boop, and the Windex and used paper towel in my hands.

After that, I looked to him. “I’m cleaning your room.”

“For f*ck’s sake, why?” he bit out.

“That’s thirty cents,” I returned disapprovingly.

He didn’t respond. What he did was lean his torso slightly back, wrap his fingers around his hips, and scowl at me in a scary way that again got me talking.

“Yesterday, you were right,” I informed him, lifting my chin. “I would be a fool not to take what you and your friends are offering. It’s extraordinarily kind, too kind, but I’m in a pickle. A bad pickle. I need help. I have no friends. My dad is in Nebraska taking care of my gramma, and I don’t want him worried about me. And my options are limited. But bottom line, I’m concerned about my son. I’m concerned about his father’s behavior, a father who would be raising him and clearly doesn’t know right from wrong or how to be respectful. Now, I have to do everything I can to make certain my son has a good upbringing, that being from me.”

I lifted the Windex bottle and jerked a thumb at myself on the “me” and kept talking.

“So I’m taking you up on your offer,” I declared. “However, the generosity of it makes me uncomfortable, so I’ll be doing what I can to give back. And since you started all this, you’re up first. You need your room cleaned because no one should live like this.” I threw out the Windex bottle. “So I’m cleaning your room.”

“I don’t want you to clean my room,” he returned.

“I didn’t want people I don’t know to offer assistance I need. And further I didn’t want to have a life where I was in a position that I was forced to take that assistance no matter how embarrassing my needing it was. But we can’t always get what we want,” I retorted.

His scowl got scarier. “What’s happenin’ to you is not embarrassing.”

I held his eyes and quieted my voice. “You’re wrong about that, Joker.”

His jaw flexed.

I cleared my throat and straightened my shoulders, taking us back to the point. “But I’m taking it and doing that. I’m also giving back. With you first.”

“You’re not cleaning my room,” he declared.

I shook my head. “Too late. It’s half done.”

That wasn’t exactly the truth. His room was really filthy. I still had a lot of work to do. Also, I had to cart his stuff to the Laundromat but I had a shift so I’d have to do that the next day. Therefore, I wouldn’t be completely done until tomorrow.

“I don’t want you goin’ through my stuff,” he kept at it.

I felt warmth creep up my neck but I ignored it and what he said, and returned, “Speaking of your stuff. I found an envelope full of money in a pair of your jeans that were on the floor in the bathroom. It’s there.” I motioned to his dresser. “And I’ll, uh… commend you on your obvious commitment to safe sex. Though, the unwrapped prophylactics are now in the drawer of your nightstand, not scattered among the wrappers on top. Easier access since you won’t have to sort through the wrappers to find a new one.”

At that, he looked fit to be tied, or fit to tie me, and he leaned slightly toward me.

“That right there is why—”

“I’m doing it, Joker,” I whispered. “You can be all scary and scowl at me and get angry, but I’m doing it. I’m doing whatever I have to do to feel better about what you’re all doing for me. I have to.” I drew in breath and finished, “And I’m asking you to let me.”

His jaw flexed again.

I watched his jaw flex, thinking two things.

One, for some reason, I found that appealing.

Two, I didn’t feel even a little bad about lying by omission by not including the fact that I was there to do other things as well. Those including being around him, attempting to flirt with him, and doing everything I could to get him to kiss me again and/or ask me out on a date (with that last, I was hoping for and).

Of course, I did want to give back to him and the Club. Definitely.

It was just that I wanted other things too. We stared at each other, and this lasted a long time. Long enough for me to have a strong urge to end the staring contest by running to him and throwing myself in his arms, but this time, not allowing him to let me go.