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I smile. “Good. And this never happened. If your parents ask you why you’re all wet, you can tell them you went for a swim in the pond.”
“I will…”
“Oh, and if you even think about coming near my sister or any other girl again, I’ll make this look like a walk in the park, little girl, understood?”
She nods, shaking as I let her go. I stand, wincing as I got some water on me. I whistle as I wash my hands and she sags onto the stall floor crying.
I fucking hate bullies.
I shake out of my reverie. We’re driving to Mississippi.
I know I was a hothead that day when I dealt with Tilly’s bully, but to Amanda’s credit, she did everything I told her. I put the fear of God into her and it went around school what she’d done to Tilly, and my sister became one of the most popular girls in school. Not that she liked the attention.
“How come you’re smilin’”?
I glance up to see Nevada watching me before his eyes shift back to the road. “Just thinking about the time I flushed some girl’s head down the toilet.”
He snorts. “Wow, that’s badass.”
“Well, she was only sixteen, and I was twenty-three at the time, but she bullied and assaulted Tilly and I couldn’t have that. She never did it again, lucky for her sake.”
“Sounds like she deserved it.”
“Sometimes people have to learn the hard way. And I had anger issues back then.”
“And you don’t now?” He snickers.
I roll my eyes. “Wise ass.”
Of course Nevada has a nice truck. It’s a GMSV Silverado in metallic blue. It’s new. I can tell by the new car smell and how neat it is. Good to know Nevada isn't a slob as you can tell a lot about a person with how they keep their personal space.
“Do you have any other family?”
The question hits me like a fireball. I don’t normally talk about my family life. “My mom died a few years back from a rare form of cancer. She was sick on and off over the years. After my sperm donor of a dad took off when I was a teenager, a few years after Tilly was born, she sort of just gave up.”
“I’m sorry.”
My mom and I never really saw eye to eye. We were just both resigned to the fact that we didn’t get along. I nursed her for the last six months of her life and she declined quickly. I really don’t like talking about this shit so I turn the tables. He’s told me a little about his mom and I know they get along well. “So how’s your mom as a roommate?” I ask
He winces. “Well, I gotta behave if that’s what you’re askin’. She’s not too naggy, she knows I have my own life to live but I’m her baby, so sometimes she forgets I’m twenty-seven.”
I smile at the thought and it tugs at my heart. “I guess that’s not hard to do when you’re a parent.”
He looks at me. “You ever thought about kids?”
I wrinkle my nose. “To be honest, not really. I’ve been so busy changing my career these last few years that I’ve never thought about it too much and I’ve been trying to get that off the ground. Before this I taught kickboxing for a while, and worked in administration. I wouldn’t rule it out, but I’m also not very maternal.”
A fleeting thought hits me. Does Nevada want kids? I mean, he’s young, he probably does at some point. Turns out he answers the question for me.
“Kids are hard work. I see what Cash’s ol’ lady, Deanna does and Crystal with their kids and it looks like a lot of work, but maybe someday.” He shifts his eyes to mine.
Holy fuck. I do not want to imagine little versions of him running around, though weirdly, I could see him as a dad. He’d be playful and patient… Wait… Why do I care? And I don’t know that for sure. He’d probably drop them on their heads or something. “Of course, my mom would die if she doesn’t get any grandkids.”
I smile to myself. “Parents are like that. What about your dad? I know you said he lives in Florida.” I leave out the part about Nevada sounding disappointed with his dad not really in the picture anymore, and with him joining the MC and becoming a diesel mechanic. “Do you get to see him much?”
He shakes his head. “I’d like to see him. He’s in town a couple times a year, so we catch up then. I miss him. I just wish…” He trails off. I realize once again, there’s more to this man than meets the eye. He can actually be serious; not something I originally thought when I first met him. How deceiving looks can be. “I just wish he’d be a little prouder of me. Every time I see him, he picks fault with somethin’. I can’t seem to win in his eyes.”
I hear the sadness in his voice and it hurts deep inside me. “Sometimes that’s how parents are, they see in you what they see in themselves. My mom was the exact same way. I could never do anything right.” My God. I’ve never admitted that to another person. Why does being around this man suddenly make me blurt things out I wouldn’t normally?
