Page 52 of The Blessing

chapter 22

shine

“Do you know where you’re taking her, Trevor?”

This is the first time I’ve seen my dad since he told me the news of his impending divorce from my mother. He’s not as tired looking as he was. In fact, he looks well-rested and at ease as he sits across from me on the couch. The bags he had underneath his eyes have disappeared, and the color has returned to his face. He looks like my dad again and I’m glad to see it. I was so worried that, in her anger, my mother would drag him down with her. Realizing that I’m staring at him, I think back to his original question. Where the fuck am I going to take Ronnie? I want to impress her, but I also want tonight to be the best night of her life. We’ve seen and done just about everything Evergreen has to offer, so I was considering driving to Denver. Ronnie rarely goes there, despite the fact the drive is less than an hour.

“I’m not sure, Dad.” God, do I feel young discussing my date with him. “I was thinking about driving into Denver.”

“There’s a lot of great places there. Do you know what kind of food Ronnie prefers?”

I’ve seen Ronnie eats lots of things but I’m not sure what her favorites are. Most of the time, she shops for groceries depending on her budgets and what’s on sale at King Soopers. “I’m not sure,” I finally say. “I was thinking about taking her someplace with a ‘romantic’ atmosphere.” To get her in the mood for later. I just want tonight to be as nice as possible.

Dad stares at me for a long moment before a smirk appears on his face. “Trevor, you don’t have to be so nervous. She’s already your girlfriend, so you don’t need to worry about winning her over.”

“It’s not that,” I mutter.

“Oh.” Now Dad gives me a knowing grin. “So, tonight’s the night.”

My face is quickly aghast and I look away. This is so fucking awkward. He doesn’t need to know I’m going to try to bang Ronnie tonight. I run my right hand nervously through my hair, avoiding eye-contact at all costs. I don’t know what my problem is; it’s not like my dad believes I’m still a virgin or some shit like that. He knew I came home at odd hours of the morning during high school. Even though he turned a blind eye to my fucking around, it wasn’t like he didn’t know what was happening.

“Go to Guard and Grace on California Street. I’m sure Ronnie will love it.”

I smile, happy he’s not giving me any other type of advice. I thank him before heading out to my truck. I pause long enough to Google the restaurant’s number and call ahead to make a reservation for tonight. I want to have ample time to get home and clean-up. Quinton and Eden are keeping Grey for the evening. I’d feel strange leaving my son with a couple I’ve only known for a brief time but being Ronnie’s family, I know I can trust them implicitly. Besides, I gave them multiple ways to contact me in case of emergency. They laughed at how flustered I was, but I’ve never left him alone with someone other than his grandmother and Ronnie. As much as I love having the little guy around all the time, I didn’t need him crashing my date.

I think about Ronnie on the short drive back to my apartment. Her beautiful face, the curves of her body, and her smile which lights up any room she enters. I allow my thoughts to drift further on the “ungentlemanly” side. Like when I got a the few glimpses of the sexy curve of her plump tits and the one time she bent over, completely unaware of how her dress rode up just enough for me to see her panties. I lick my lips at the thought and feel my cock start to throb against the zipper of my jeans as my imagination runs wild. I dream of what her voluptuous body must look like without any clothing. I bet it’s beautiful, creamy, and flawless. I can’t wait to get her naked and feast on her. When my erection begins to get uncomfortable, I direct my thoughts someplace a little tamer.

I want tonight to be perfect, but I also don’t want to force Ronnie into doing anything she’s not comfortable with. As much as I want her in every possible way, I won’t force her into doing something she’s not ready for. I’ve never had a romantic relationship, so I have no idea how to time this shit. How soon is too soon? In pretty much all my past “experiences” with women, we rushed directly into sex. I never cared enough for any of them to take them on a date first, nor did they ask for anything from me. I was a whore, they were all easy sluts. Therefore, taking them out on a date first wouldn’t have really made a difference. We all wanted sex, why put a pretty bow on it and pretend it’s something it’s not?

I’ve never felt ashamed of my past until I met Ronnie. Only then did I realize how fucking disgraceful it was. Even though I enjoyed myself at the time, if I’d known I’d meet such an incredible girl one day, I’d never would’ve fucked around with that many women. I’d take it all back if I could. My past makes me feel like a douchebag, and Ronnie deserves so much better than that. She deserves someone better than me. However, I’m who and what she wants. How strange and fucked up is that? Even now, I can’t wrap my head around the fact that she wants me as much as I want her.

Right when I get home, I jump straight in the shower. The images of her that played in my head on the ride home still have me riled up. Taking that into consideration—and the fact that I might have to behave tonight—I’ll need to get myself off at least once. I’ll behave tonight, or at least, until she tells me not to. My muscles relax under the hot water, which is welcomed after a day of feeling tense. I run a bar of soap over my body, imagining it was Ronnie’s hands doing it instead of mine. With her hands in mind, I trail my hand down my body until I’m gripping my throbbing cock. It doesn’t take long for me to find my release, especially since my sexy-ass girlfriend is the star of my fantasies. I come on the tiles of the shower wall and close my eyes as the euphoria washes over me. I wash my hair and rinse the suds off my body before stepping out of the shower, realizing if I spend any more time in the bathroom, Ronnie will be wondering where the fuck I am.

As soon as I have a towel wrapped around my hips, I begin styling my hair. It doesn’t take long for the agitation to seep back in as my mind reels with all the possibilities of how I could fuck-up tonight. I don’t know why I’m so fucking antsy because Ronnie is, after all, my girlfriend. It’s not like she’ll dump me after one bad date, or at least, I don’t think she would. Putting this much effort into something makes me feel so exposed. If I actually try to achieve something, I might fail. I think if I disappoint Ronnie, the feeling of rejection will be more painful. Failure and rejection is inevitable when it comes to me. I’m so invested in her already, I know that if things don’t work out, it’s going to fucking gut me.

After several attempts at trying to tame my unruly hair—which could definitely use a cut—and a thorough shaving off my five o’clock shadow, I decide this is as good as it’s going to get for tonight. I cleaned up fairly well and realize this is as “handsome” as I’m ever going to look. Unlike Dean, I’m not a fucking “pretty boy” by any stretch of the imagination. I’m certain I’m too rough to really be considered handsome. It’s not just the tattoos because people were shying away from me long before I had any ink. I suppose it could be my strong features and dark green eyes that cause people to keep their distance. That’s one reason I’m surprised Grey warmed up to me the way he did. And Ronnie, too, for that matter. Most girls just look at me as someone they want to fuck, not as someone to take home to their family.

I take one final look in the mirror, running my finger over the scar that runs symmetrically over the corner of my left eyebrow. I smile as I remember earning that scar in a fist fight with Dean. It wasn’t anything too serious—but we were beating the shit out of each other. He punched me and his nails gouged into my skin deep enough to cut me, therefore causing the jagged scar. I’d forgotten about it because I rarely look at my reflection in the mirror. This must be the first time I noticed it since Dean’s death. It’s like a little piece of him is still with me. This scar is by far my favorite mark on my body. It’ll always remind me of him—as well as the masterpiece on my back.

Noting the time, I hurry up and finish getting ready, knowing that if I don’t pick up Ronnie soon we’ll be late for our reservation. I throw on a black button up shirt and black slacks because I know the color puts all the focus on my tattoos. I roll up my sleeves and leave the top button of my shirt undone to show off the black and gray lotus flower I dropped a good chunk of money on a few years back. I’m hoping I look good enough for Ronnie. Although, I’m sure whatever I do, she’ll manage to outdo me completely.

As soon as I cross the hall to “pick up” my date, all my suspicions are confirmed. Not a single person is going to look at me when I’ve got this fuck-hot woman on my arm. Ronnie looks absolutely incredible. I close my mouth to avoid looking like a complete imbecile because my jaw dropped open like a cartoon character as soon as she opened the door. Her black dress is so tight it fits her like a second skin. I want nothing more than to peel it off her and end the night before it’s begun. The dress makes her tits look amazing and her legs look a mile long. I can’t stop the dirty thoughts from running through my head as I gaze at her.

“Do I look all right?” Ronnie asks with a nervous giggle.

Is she being serious? I give her an incredulous look before assuring her, “You look sexy, baby. Very sexy.”

She’s shy all of a sudden. I can’t fathom why; she’s beautiful inside and out. I reach for her hand and pull her out into the hallway, bringing her soft body against mine. Her curves rub against me in all the right ways and I feel my cock begin to harden in my pants again. I bring my lips down to meet hers and kiss her with a well contained passion. I know if I don’t keep myself under control, she’ll be on her back before she knows it. With what little cool I have left, I pull away and promise her “later” before ushering her down the hallway.

We drive to the Guard and Grace in Denver with our windows down, letting the crisp, early fall air flow through the truck. It helps ease the sexual tension that’s building between us. Despite the cold air, I can feel the warmth radiating off her body and I wonder if she wants me as desperately as I want her. She turns her head and smiles at me and if I weren’t driving, I wouldn’t be able to look away from her. I take her hand and hold it over the console, watching her out of the corner of my eye as she sways along to the classic rock that’s softly playing through the speakers. I take a deep breath, wanting to remember this perfect moment. The cold air stings my lungs and a smile tugs on my lips as I realize this is the happiest I’ve ever been. I have a girl I’m in love with who wants to be with me and a son who’s my heart—the center of my universe. I don’t think my life could feel any fuller.

As soon as we pull up street side in front of the steakhouse, my girl perks up in her seat. I can tell she’s impressed and I can’t help the smug smile that appears on my face. It feels fucking fantastic to know I made her happy. I lean across the console, intending to quickly kiss her—but the kiss lasts far longer than expected. If it weren’t for a horn blaring, we probably would’ve remained in the truck making out all night.

“You go ahead,” I tell her with a smile. “Go wait inside and I’ll go park.”

She kisses me one last time before sliding out of the truck and when the car behind me honks again, she flips him the bird before curtseying and continuing onto the restaurant. I smile as I watch her ass sway back and forth as she walks away before putting the car in drive and moving before the dickhead behind me has an aneurysm. I park on the street and hurry inside—not appreciating the chilly air without Ronnie at my side to warm me up. I can see the restaurant’s modern interior design from the street and it’s fucking gorgeous. It’s obvious—by the looks of it—that it’s going to be expensive, but I want to make this night a special one. I don’t really give a fuck how much it costs. I want my girl to feel like the princess she fucking is. I find her waiting by the hostess stand, gazing around the restaurant with wide eyes and an impressed smile.

“This is incredible, Trev,” she whispers with a child-like grin as I lead her to the podium to claim our reservation.