Rock Chick Regret (Rock Chick #7)(26)

* * * * *

It happened after nachos and beer. After Veronica got roughed up by the evil Fitzpatrick clan at the pool hall. After I took the nacho platter and plates back to the kitchen and came back with more beer for everyone. After, when I came back, I saw that Ralphie had affected a seating jumble which meant Buddy was in the armchair where I’d been sitting and the only place for me to settle was between Ralphie and Hector on the couch. After Buddy gave me an “I’m sorry but life will be hell if Ralphie doesn’t get his way” look. It was in the middle of Veronica instigating an ingenious plan to foil new baddies when Ralphie leaned forward, shoved his arm under my knees and yanked up my calves, pulling my feet into my lap.

This meant my body twisted and my shoulder collided with Hector’s side. Hector had, for the sake of comfort on the smallish couch (this was what I told myself for my peace of mind) put his arm along the back of the couch (an arm I felt there like it was a snake coiled to strike).

I put my still casted wrist into the cushion by Hector’s hip and turned to glare at Ralphie.

“What are you doing?” I snapped.

“Foot massage,” Ralphie replied, eyes on the TV screen, his hands on my feet starting to massage.

I pulled my feet away. “I don’t want a foot massage.”

Ralphie grabbed my ankles in a firm hold and tugged them back into his lap, a move that made me collide with Hector’s side again.

I leaned away from Hector as Ralphie said, “Everyone wants a foot massage.”

“Well, I don’t,” I returned.

“You do,” Ralphie shot back.

“I don’t,” I snapped.

Ralphie’s eyes swung from Veronica to me. “You do.”

Ralphie and I went into a stare down, a stare down I was going to win if it killed me.

I could snuggle up to Buddy on one side of the couch while Ralphie massaged my feet on the other side. I was never, no way, going to lean into Hector (which was my only choice) while Ralphie massaged my feet.

Never.

The stare down lasted until (seriously, no kidding), Hector’s arm circled my shoulders, he put pressure there, my elbow buckled and he pulled me into his side.

I tilted my head back. “Now, what are you doing?” I asked.

Hector looked down at me and said, “Relax.”

“I’m uncomfortable,” I replied.

He smiled at me. I stared at him, not a stare down stare, a fascinated one.

I thought about it for a nanosecond and then I gave in. I’d look like a fool if I kept fighting.

I could deal with this; I’d dealt with worse, loads worse. After Hector left, I’d give Ralphie a piece of my mind so he understood exactly where I stood on the issue of Hector.

I glanced over at Buddy to see if I might have some support but Buddy was watching Hector. Finally his eyes slid to me, he gave me a wink then he went back to Veronica.

No support from Buddy then.

I sat there, Ralphie massaging my feet, and I glared at the TV screen, willing Veronica to take me away.

After awhile, Hector’s fingers started to make lazy circles on my shoulder.

That felt nice, sweet and lovely.

Darn it all to hell.

Fine. I could deal with that too.

I focused on Veronica. Veronica and me, we could make it through, we always got away unscathed or, well… if not unscathed, at least still breathing.

I settled into Hector and Ralphie kept massaging my feet.

Veronica Mars, plucky, high school girl detective only had three seasons.

It might last awhile but, eventually, it would be over.

* * * * *

I opened my eyes and saw nothing but flannel shirt.

My senses came to and I realized that I didn’t hear Veronica’s smart mouth, I heard a sports commentator talking about a game. I didn’t feel my feet in Ralphie’s lap; I didn’t feel Ralphie at all. Someone had switched off all the lights in the room except one which meant that only a soft glow came from a beautiful Restoration Hardware floor lamp across the room.

I was no longer curled into Hector’s side and Hector was no longer sitting on the couch.

Instead, my torso was mostly pressed into Hector, my head was resting on his chest, my arm was wrapped around his middle and Hector was reclined back on a diagonal, his feet up on the coffee table.

Oh my.

I tilted my head to look at the armchair. Buddy was gone.

I slid my cheek against Hector’s soft shirt and looked up at him.

He was lounging, asleep, head resting on the back of the couch, arm around me curled at my waist, hand resting gently on my hip.

My sleepy mind whirled and I realized I knew how it happened.

No one could get a foot massage from Ralphie (he gave good foot massages) while leaning into Hector’s immense, comforting heat and not fall asleep. Even when Veronica Mars was solving the mystery of the lost proceeds for the Senior Trip that were stolen from the school’s Winter Carnival.

No one.

Now, how did I get out of this predicament?

I decided I would scoot away and leave him there. He looked comfortable enough. I’d escape upstairs and sleep in the next morning, sleep in until I knew for certain sure Hector was gone.

Though, before I left, I’d put a blanket over him, just in case he got cold.

I took my eyes from him and cautiously edged away, lifting myself up and pulling my arm from around his abs.