Rock Chick Rescue (Rock Chick #2)(15)
“Jet?” It was Indy cal ing.
I jerked back, hitting the back of my skul on the bookshelf.
When I looked at Eddie, his head was no longer descending, his eyes were closed and I could tel his teeth were clenched again, but he didn’t move away.
“Jet?” Indy cal ed again. Then I heard her say, “Oops!
Gosh. Sorry.”
Gosh. Sorry.”
I got up on tiptoe and looked over Eddie’s shoulder and saw Indy and Lee standing at the end of the row.
Lee looked amused. I knew this because he was smiling so much he looked like he was about to burst out laughing.
“Sorry, I wouldn’t interrupt but your Dad’s here,” Indy said.
“Great!” I replied brightly, letting go of Eddie’s shirt and ducking under his arm. “Thanks.”
I got a step away when I was jerked back at the middle. I looked and saw that Eddie had hooked a finger in the belt loop at the back of my jeans.
“Hang on there, C hiquita, I’m comin’ with you. I have a few things I’d like to ask your Dad.”
I looked up to Eddie. I wasn’t sure I wanted Eddie talking to Dad. “He’s just here for donuts.”
Eddie’s eyes locked on mine. “I could eat a donut.” I knew he wasn’t talking about donuts; he was talking about giving my Dad the same kind of third degree he just gave me.
Eddie jerked again on my belt loop and my shoulder came into contact with his chest. Then he said in my ear,
“We aren’t done.”
Eek.
A shiver of electricity, starting at my ear, went through my whole body. I ignored it and ignored him.
We were so done. We had to be done. I didn’t have the energy for this, I didn’t have the time for this and anyway, if I went up in flames of passion, who was going to take care of Mom?
Indy and Lee were walking in front of us; Eddie was beside me, his finger stil hooked into my belt loop.
“I don’t wanna hear it,” Eddie said, apparently to Lee because Lee answered.
“Come on, tough it up. I had ten years. You’ve had, what?
Two months?”
Eddie didn’t respond.
Indy fel back a bit and into step beside me.
“What are they talking about?” I whispered to her.
“You don’t want to know,” she answered.
It was stil a coffee crush when we got to the front, but I saw Dad sitting on the back of one of the couches, eating a chocolate iced, custard fil ed donut and drinking a latte as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
The minute he saw me, he shouted, “Princess Jet!” Eddie stil had his finger in my belt loop so I couldn’t rush to Dad and warn him to flee.
Instead I just said, “Hey Dad.”
Dad looked to Eddie and saw Eddie’s hand behind my back
“Chavez, looks like you don’t let grass grow.”
“Ray,” Was Eddie’s reply.
Dad’s eyes moved to Indy and he smiled, then to Lee who’d come up with us. “Fuckin’ A.” He breathed, the smile dying out of his face and he looked almost panicked.
“You’re Lee Nightingale.”
“Yep,” Lee said.
“Fuck,” Dad said.
I found this confusing. I looked from Dad to Lee and opened my mouth to speak when the bel over the front door rang and I heard someone cal my name.
I turned and stared.
It was Oscar, my latest ex. We’d broken up about a month before Mom’s stroke. Before that, we’d been together for two years. The break up was by mutual consent (mutual in the sense that I talked Oscar into it) and we’d stayed friends. He helped move Mom and me into our new apartment. He was a good guy and, sometimes, I missed him.
Oscar was about two inches tal er than me, had warm, brown eyes, fantastic, thick, dark hair and some acne scars which, lucky for him, only served to make him look more interesting.
I turned to him as he walked to us. He looked upset.
This was not good. Oscar had a short fuse which, upset, could quickly grow into something much harder to control.
“Oscar! What are you doing here?”
“Your Mom cal ed, said some ass**le cal ed you a racist. Mamita what is that shit al about? I wanna have a word with him. Who is this f**kwad?”
What did I tel you?
My mother.
I wanted to run screaming out of the store but my belt loop was pul ed again and again my shoulder came into contact with Eddie’s chest, this time, it stayed there.
“I think I’m the f**kwad,” Eddie said.
Oscar’s eyes moved to Eddie and he saw the way we were standing. I think he misinterpreted it because his temper flared directly to the red zone.
“Get your f**kin’ hands off her!” Oscar shouted and everyone (and there were a lot of people) turned to look.
“Calm down, amigo, we’ve straightened things out,” Eddie replied.
“Oscar, it’s okay,” I said.
Oscar wasn’t listening.
“You don’t cal my woman a racist and then straighten things out. And I thought I told you to get your hands off her.”
I forgot to mention, Oscar also had a possessiveness issue. It was one of the reasons we broke up. Not to mention, his confronting Eddie was stupid, anyone could see by looking at the two of them that Eddie could wipe the floor with him. Eddie was tal er, leaner and had about a half an ounce of body fat, which was clear to see from the skintight white t-shirt he was wearing.