Page 414 of Devil’s Disciples

Sipping his coffee, he lowered the cup just enough to speak over it. “Sooner or later.”

“The sooner is long gone,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when I asked on the elevator, you said I don’t want to talk about it. When we got to the basement, you didn’t say want to talk about it. Now, we’re here, and you haven’t said shit the entire time it took me to make a sandwich. So, the sooner is gone. We’re on the later. Spill your guts, dude.”

“I want to talk about our relationship,” he said.

“Good, me too.” I took a bite of the sandwich. “Tell me what happened first.”

“Relationship first,” he said.

“Fuck it. If that’s how you’ve got to do it, fine.” I took another bite. “Relationship. Go.”

“You go first.”

I laughed. “You’re the one that started this. Now, suddenly, you’re afraid to talk?”

His gaze lowered to his coffee cup. Obviously troubled by whatever it was he intended to say, he peered into it long enough that I became anxious. I wondered if he shared my feelings about the problems that had developed recently.

He stood and turned toward the counter. “Kind of.”

“Do you want me to talk about our relationship?” I asked. “My thoughts on it?”

“Sure.”

I hated that word. Sure. Not quite a yes. Not a no. Somewhere in between. I bit the sandwich and rolled my eyes.

I swallowed the food and began my no-holds-barred explanation. “When we started this, it was us meeting at the diner. That was kind of cool and nostalgic or whatever. When it came to sex, I flirted, and you didn’t react. Then, one night, you reacted. We boned. It was great. You eventually invited me here. That was a big step—for me, anyway. We had sex in a real bed and I didn’t have to leave before the ten o’clock checkout time. You asked me to stay for a few days. We had more sex. You cooked meals. We had sex in the kitchen. You said I could stay as long as I wanted to.”

I put my sandwich down and turned my stool to face him. “That’s progress. Measurable progress. I liked that. I can look at it and see things started one way and eventually turned into something else. Don’t get me wrong, I was okay with how it was in the beginning. Seeing that progress kind of excited me, though. Then, the wheels fell off.”

Fresh coffee cup in hand, he faced me. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve never heard that phrase?”

“I’ve heard it, yeah.” He sat down. “But what do you mean, the wheels fell off? What happened?”

“I mean the fucking wheels fell off. You introduced me to the club. Your little bearded boss is cool, and everything. Everyone else is okay, except for you-know-who. But you-know-who is causing a lot of tension. That tension carries through to our relationship. If that’s what being in the club is going to be like, it’s not for me. We bring that shit home with us. And, that’s exactly what it is. Shit.”

“The club really needs you.”

“Well.” I reached for my sandwich. “I don’t need the club. I was fine flying solo. I’ll be fine flying solo. I’m used to it. I’m good at it. If that’s what it takes to save us, that’s what I’ll do”

As if the coffee held the answers to our woes, he gazed into the cup with glazed eyes.

“I don’t want you to fly solo,” he said, looking up as he spoke. “I want this to work out. All of it.”

“Why?”

“Because seeing you work makes me proud of you. Listening to you make suggestions for a job makes me proud. Seeing you stand up for yourself after the bank job convinced me you’re the kind of woman I want to be with. I can’t stand a pushover. You’re not. You’re intelligent, witty, and courageous. That’s what I need in a woman. Well, that and someone I can be honest with. That someone’s you.”

Learning that he’d recognized I was exactly what he wanted caused me to swell with pride. I leaned onto the edge of the counter and looked him in the eyes. “Those things? That’s who I am, not something I’ve done. I’m all those things with or without the club. Working, or retired from work. That’s me. I don’t need the club to be that person for you.”

“I like working with you.”

I leaned away from the counter. “Sounds like you’re making excuses, now.”