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“Erik. Please call me Erik.”
Oh.
“You sure?”
Cue a round of awkward nodding. “Yeah… Yeah. I’m sure… You sure I can touch you?”
“I said so, didn’t I?” To cement my words, I bump his shoulder with mine and chuckle.
The simple gesture does little to allay Gunz’s concern. Leaning into my arm, bare skin on shirt, he takes my hand into his, weaves our fingers together, and squeezes, before resting them on his thigh. “Yes,” he notes, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “But this is… fucked. You had a doctor up in you, and I wasn’t there. Then I was worried somethin’ was gonna happen ’cause I wasn’t. I don’t wanna fuck this up. I want you to stay. If you don’t want to, I get it. My club’s responsible for what happened to you. Then there’s the matter of my son. I wanna see him and get to know him… I… fuck… This is… a lot… and I don’t know how to… ya know… talk about it… How to… see… I’m a goddamn mess.” Once more, his head meets the sofa’s back. A lofty sigh imparts his lips.
The man needs to give himself grace. This is new for all of us. A total life-altering event. Nothing could have prepared me for what’s ensued since the night I showed up at their gate. Neither of us have the answers. Life is messy. Our situation is messier than most. But he’s here. I’m here. We’re breathing and talking. That’s a win in my book.
“You also haven’t slept much.” We could both use respite. Nothing will be solved in a day. It’s gonna take time.
“That too,” he agrees.
“Why don’t we lay off the heavy for a bit? Just be here. You and me. We don’t have to talk about everything right now. How about we put on a movie since I know how much you love those?” I laugh, recalling how much he dislikes television. “We can relax. Veg out on the couch. Eat food. Cuddle.” The perfect compromise, in my not-so-humble opinion.
“That… works.” He sounds skeptical.
“You sure?”
Rolling his head in my direction, Gunz meets my eye. “Truth? I’ve never done that before.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
Shaking my head in astonishment, that a man in his fifties has never taken a day to unwind in front of the television, cuddle with a female, and gorge on food, I set out to make this day the best for us both. We deserve it.
First, I untangle from Sir Hotness, get my lazy bum off the couch, and grab the remote from the entertainment stand. I hand it to Gunz with specific instructions to find us something to watch. Anything he picks is fine by me. I haven’t watched anything good in ages. Next, I raid the kitchen cupboards and come up empty, unless you consider salt, sugar, half a bottle of ketchup, and a giant bag of rice proper sustenance. He has nothing to eat. Definitely, nothing to veg with—like buttery popcorn, chocolate, maybe chips, or some other version of bad-for-you-but-tastes-too-good junk.
“The sisters are bringin’ food later today,” he calls from the living room.
That sounds perfect.
“Janie and Dom moved to a new trailer while we were gone. So, the cupboards are probably bare, love,” he tacks on as I hear him surf through the channels.
Bare is an understatement.
Working with what I’ve got, I make us tea and carry the hot mugs into the living room to sip on as we watch… “John Wick?” Genuine elation bursts from my lips.
Looking out of his element, Gunz shrugs up one shy shoulder. “You said it was good, yeah?”
“It is.” I reclaim my seat beside him, hips touching, and offer him his drink.
Blanket strewn over my legs, mug cradled in my hands, I rest my head on Gunz’s shoulder as he presses play.
See, we can do this.
Netflix and chill.
The literal kind, not the naughty version.
Get your filthy mind out of the gutter.
CHAPTERTHIRTY
