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Joke’s on me. I never knew, up until last night, just how much she affected me.
It was obvious that years of denial and repression fueled most of what has happened this weekend. I wasn’t expecting to tell her the unspeakable truth though.
It’s fucked up, sure, and still, I’m not ready to have this weekend end just yet. I’m not ready to set her free.
I have a full book of ideas of how I want to ruin that hungry pussy of hers. That’s the easy, uncomplicated version. I’ll stick with that for the sake of my immediate sanity.
“Greg didn’t go to school with us, Archer. He doesn’t know about your Rose ban.”
Is that why I hate him with a fucking passion?
Maybe she’s right. Seeing him with his manicured, polished hands all over Rose always had bile swimming back to my mouth. Fuck, the mental image is enough to have me fisting the fork and bending it, my skin paling and protesting under the pressure.
That’s not it.
There’s something else about that bland, corporate asswipe that pisses me off.
“Fuck Greg.” Saying his name feels like saw dust filled with splinters against my tongue. “I’m your step-in Valentine today, remember? I’d appreciate it if we kept other men that have seen you naked off the table.”
Rose giggles and snakes her foot up my calf, “Yes, Daddy.” My little fucking tease.
Something has changed for Rose too. She’s not hiding or holding back.
She laced her fingers with mine as we made our way from the car to this small, hole in the wall restaurant, kissed me while we waited for our table and even fucking played with my beard.
But then again, here, there’s no exposure. The risk of running into someone we both know is close to none. She doesn’t have to worry about the two worlds colliding and having her pristine reputation smeared by a depraved and reprovable connection.
“I’m surprised, James. I was expecting exorbitantly flashy. This place is… It’s unassuming.” She’s drawing circles on the back of my hand with the tip of her finger. It’s a soothing gesture, even so, there’s this unsettling feeling slowly creeping into my chest.
“Would you have preferred, exorbitantly flashy?” She has a point. I would normally go for something over the top like that, but somehow, with her, I didn’t think it was suitable. Luxury and flashing the green was normally what girls expect on Valentine’s Day, with Rose though, there was just no point.
“No, no. Not at all. It’s just... It doesn’t go with the super polished, luxury persona you put on.” She links her fingers with mine again and my heart pounds harder in my chest. There’s panic mixed with completion. This is starting to feel too much like a real date. One that actually matters.
“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.”
I had never let Rose close enough to know me, the real me, so it’s only normal she would go with assumptions.She, like the rest of the world, sees the luxury car expert. The one with the glitzy watches and tailored suits. I’m fucking good at what I do, but it’s not all I am.
“Quoting Shakespeare? Okay, who are you and what have you done with James Archer?”
I laugh at her little fake outburst.
“What I mean is, appearances can be deceiving. I prefer this to those high profile, Michelin star restaurants. Under the flashy suits you normally see me in, is just a normal guy who likes to get his hands dirty.” I need to dig myself out of the emotional hole I am falling into, so I resort to sordid. Hopefully she’ll get the hint.
“I know. You and your cars.” She gives me a compassionate smile, the touch of her hand reaching beyond skin-deep. “It’s something you did with your father, right?” Rose shoves me right back into the pit with her innocent question. I try to keep my emotions at bay as best I can, but my heart has already lost its rhythm. There’s a reason I don’t talk about my father. Even after all these years it still chokes me up.
I don’t answer, instead, I give her a small nod in confirmation.
“I know how much it means to you. How happy it makes you.” I look at her in confusion, how could she possibly infer that? “Oh c’mon Archer, I can read beyond the obvious too. I might not have gotten your restaurant choices right, but I do know that every time you have your head under the hood of a car, it’s like a high of happiness.” Rose’s gaze is set on me now, making me feel like a piece of worthless art she is appraising.
“You would quit calling me buttercup, or even Valentine. It was just Rosy. I would have peace for a couple of days, until your work was done and there was nothing left to repair. Not to mention the slight smile you always sported.” I can’t believe she noticed all that. I can’t believe she spared me, or it, any thought. She hated me with such conviction, I never thought she would give me a second glance.
“I–” My voice comes out unstable, so I clear my throat before resuming, hoping that the word drenched in emotion made it under her radar. By the way she’s looking at me, it didn’t. “I feel like he’s right there, standing next to me again. When I fix them, when I start that engine and hear it roar to life again, when I drive at high speed on an empty road. Just like you with art, that is my passion. That’s where I feel like I’m myself.”
Just like I feel when I’m with you. I leave those last words to myself. They don’t belong out in the real world. They shouldn’t even be in my head for Christ’s sake.
“You should never stop doing it. It lights up your life. I’ve seen it.” I lost the only woman I thought I loved because of it. Claudia thought it was degrading and demeaning. ‘It’s a waste of your business degree and your time.’ Yet, I would hold onto it until my last breath. As long as it was a part of my life, so was he. “Why isn’t that what you do for a living? Why sell fancy cars when you can fix them, restore them, bring them back to life?”
“Stability? I don’t know.” Half-truths, full lies? I don’t know anymore.
