COLLINS
Mom and Dadtried to tempt me to spend the night, and I probably would have if it weren’t for the fact that my apartment is practically never used these days, as in I’m pretty sure if I don’t empty the containers of leftover food from the Chinese I ordered last week, it’ll be growing something entirely different. I didn’t tell them that, though, only that my computer was at my place and I wanted to make sure the medicine would start working tomorrow while I take my classes. I even admitted to switching to online in hopes of getting more time to complete my written tests. No one tells you that there’s paperwork and formulas to deal with in order to become a licensed cosmetologist.
That’s why my back is to the door, the trash can right next to it as I dump most of the contents inside, when I hear the key in the lock. Dad took a call right as we were finishing dinner. Not in front of Mom or me; nope, I couldn’t snoop on that call even if I wanted to. It’s probably because he knows how nosey the two of us are, so he took the call in his home office. My parents, while, yes, I do love them, they do not, I repeat do not have a key to my apartment. Dad grumbled and gave me shit that he’d just pick the lock anyways. Fine with me. I have a chain on it for a reason, not that I engaged it tonight, keeping my fingers crossed that Pax would be using my front door.
“Honey, I’m home.” My shoulders quake. This relationship might be kept a secret, but one thing’s for sure: we are not like most couples, and this is definitely not something Pax would say.
“Hello, dear.” I spin around, trying to keep my composure when I look at him. He is wearing his usual—cut, black shirt beneath it, black jeans, silver chain hooked from his belt loop to his wallet, and worn-in motorcycle boots.
“Are you growing a tree out of your body?” I notice a branch peeking from the back of his cut. I know, I know, club business schmisness. I’ve been born and bred to eat, sleep, and breathe it. I’m not expecting an answer.
“Maybe I’m becoming a botanist.” The laugh lines around his eyes appear. Try as I might, that makes me lose what little self-control I have. Paxton doing something like that, it’s laughable, even for the club, unless it was Mary Jane or something of that variety. I could definitely believe that.
“Okay, sure.” I walk towards him, plucking the piece of what now looks like an oak tree out of his clothes, twirling it in my fingers as Pax wraps his hands around my waist, pulling me closer.
“You get shit taken care of at the doctor today?” Before today, there was only one person who truly knew what was going on, and it was him. I talked to Gigi about it before, but with everything going on in her life, I never ever expected her to worry about me.
“Yep, she started me on a lower dose, told me to watch out for certain things. And it won’t affect my birth control.” The grin on Pax’s face turns into a full-blown smile. “God forbid you have to wear a condom or pull out.” He loses it then, head tipped back, laughing, and we both know the truth.
“Babe, pretty sure it was you beggin’ me to come inside your cunt without a rubber, not the other way around.” What can I say? We both were seeing only one another, and I was on the pill, so why would we use something else? Plus, the smell. I’m sorry, but there’s something to be said about latex, and it’s not like you want to go down on anyone after they’ve worn the slimy thing.
“But are you complaining?” I tease back. He shuts me up with a kiss, hard and fast, full of so much depth that you wouldn’t think I’d seen him earlier this morning. It’s always like this. Paxton doesn’t rush anything, not when it comes to him taking care of me.
“Not a fuckin’ chance.” Our kiss ends. He doesn’t let me go, though; if anything, he keeps me close to him. The beeping of the refrigerator notifies me that it’s still open. It doesn’t matter. Paxton must need this, or knowing him, he knows that today was hard and I just really needed him to hold me.
“I thought you were working all night?” I ask after a few moments. My head is on his chest. I breathe in the warm scent of orange mixed with the undercurrent of cardamom, leather, and motorcycle.
“Got done early. Was gonna head home but figured I’d see where you were first.” It wouldn’t take him stopping by. In fact, how my father hasn’t caught on to the fact I’m not always at home by the way he tracks me, I’m unsure. That could be because he and mom worry non-stop about Blaine, tracking him almost daily when he refuses to check in, whereas I’m here in town, always a phone call or ten minutes away.
“Awe, I feel so loved,” I say before grumbling, “That is so annoying. Let me finish dumping the contents of what is growing out.” I point with my thumb over my shoulder. I’m a decent cook; Mom made sure of that. Dad made sure I could change my oil and a flat tire. Not that I’d ever be allowed to do that. A simple call, and one of the brothers would be around in ten minutes flat, but he was worried I’d be stranded one day. Mom, on the other hand, was making sure when I moved out, I wasn’t eating only take-out, which for the most part is true, except for last week, apparently.
“Go on. I’ll take it out once you have it emptied.” Okay, seriously, this shit is not normal. Yes, we’ve been together for a few months now, but never in my life did I expect Paxton to be this domesticated.
“You sure?” I ask, not minding dealing with this. At his house, since he has a larger place, with fewer people making noises or coming and going, I’ll make us dinner, while he’ll clean up. Tonight, though, he looks tired, like there’s a weight sitting on his shoulders that isn’t usually there.
“Positive. The faster we’re done, the faster we can shower, and then we gotta talk.” I take a step back. Shit, I knew today was too good to be true. Emotions swirl around my stomach, but I nod my head before I turn around to finish what needs to be finished, even if that means our relationship.