Ride Steady(112)

He swallowed a spoonful and looked to her to see her eyes to the side, the Blizzard cup held up, her spoon empty and forgotten in her fingers, her thoughts a mile away.

“Butterfly.”

Her head jolted and she looked to him.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Fuck, he felt that in his dick.

“Hey,” he replied and tilted his head. “You’re a million miles away.”

“No, just eight years.”

“What?” he asked.

That was when she landed the blow, giving him more pain he didn’t mind feeling.

“Waited eight years to sit and have a Blizzard with you, Carson.”

He felt his throat start burning.

“I’m glad you cut your hair,” she said, her voice quiet, her eyes on him steady, her intent was to say something with them and more than just her words. “I liked it before but it looks really good now.”

“That’s good, Butterfly,” he murmured.

She swallowed and when she did, something washed through her face he didn’t like. “I wish I’d remembered you on I-25. I wish I’d done it so I could have had my Blizzard—”

He dropped his spoon in his cup and reached out, grabbing the hand she held her spoon in and holding it tight.

“Stop it.”

“I don’t want you to look back on it and be mad at me.”

“I’m over it.”

“You say that but—”

He gently tugged her hand. “I’m over it, Carrie. You’re takin’ this all on yourself, but don’t forget I had it to give to you, let you off the hook, and I didn’t. I let it go on too long. That’s on me. Don’t take it all on, ’cause it ain’t yours. You f*cked up. I f*cked up. Even.”

She stared in his eyes. She did this a long time.

Hers started to get bright, but when he was about to say something to stop that shit, she pulled in breath through her nose and said, “I’m glad you cut your hair.”

He knew what that meant. He knew it meant she was glad they were past that. That they had what they had yesterday. That morning. That day. She was glad they were here, eating Blizzards. It meant a lot to her. A f*ckuva lot.

And that meant a lot to him.

He let her go, ordering, “Eat your Blizzard.”

“Okay,” she said shakily, turning her attention back to her cup.

But he wasn’t finished.

“Want you done so I can get your ass home and get it naked.”

Her eyes shot to his.

“So hurry,” he said.

The melancholy moved from her face as excitement moved into it which shifted straight to sassy.

“I am not rushing my first Blizzard with Carson Steele.”

“You’ll get other ones from me.”

She straightened her shoulders and got even sassier.

“This is the first one. I’m savoring it.”

“Baby, you’ll savor more, you down that, get your ass in my truck and I get you home. Got a hankerin’ to make my girl feel naughty.”

Another eye flare before she turned her attention direct to her ice cream.

Joker sat back and turned his attention to his.

He did this smiling.

In the end, it was Joker who didn’t feel like making his girl feel naughty.

After their first Blizzard together, as ridiculous as it was, high school crap, a lost fantasy resurrected in a bed with a phenomenal mattress, he took his time. He painstakingly built it for her, for both of them.

But he didn’t f*ck Carissa.

He made love to her.

Slowly.

Gently.

So when he made her come, she whispered, “Carson,” into his mouth.

It was the best moment of his life.

And it was that in a way he was determined it wouldn’t remain that way making that moment the first time in his life he wanted more.

And he was going to get it.

Further, even if he had to bust his balls, eat shit, walk through hell…

He was going to give it to her.

*

Late the next afternoon, Joker had his ass resting on his bike that was parked next to a five-year-old SUV, his arms crossed on his chest, his eyes to the door of the high school.

The last fifteen minutes he was there, he’d gotten looks. He’d gotten questions. He’d given vague answers.

And he’d waited.