CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Tommy is looking at me like an X-Ray.
He can see every inch of me under my Nosh Pit uniform as I stand in front of him. He can see through my bra, my panties. The night we were together was the culmination of a long week of teasing, and I remember how he asked if I’d shave. I’d never done that before, not for Grady and never since. But I’m sure that’s how he’s seeing me now: bare and smooth, soft to his fingers’ touch.
He smiles. I remember that smile. I remember the way he showed it to the other girls in school and made me jealous. I remember how, when Grady and I were apart for those few weeks, he finally deigned to turn it on me.
His eyes are as blue and deep as ever. They’re sexy eyes. Grady’s are different: brown, honest, and thrilling in a different, deeper way. When Tommy looks at me, I feel that thrill right on top, across the surface. His face sends a cool breeze across what feels like bare skin to harden my nipples. Everything about Tommy says sex, as if he was made for nothing else.
He wants me. Again. Right now if I’d let him.
And as much as I’d like to stay upstanding and lie, I feel how badly I want him.
We only had one night. One tragic, beautiful night. In the morning, he forgot me, and I turned away. I regretted it immediately, as long as I’d pined for him, but remorse didn’t stop my mind from reliving it, over and over, while my fingers explored.
I remember the hard, insistent, selfish way he kissed.
I remember that intense, rough way he fucked me.
I remember how hard I came. I remember folding at the middle like a mousetrap snapping. I remember calling his name, scratching his back, biting him on the neck. And I remember, after the first time I came, with two fingers third-knuckle-deep in me and his thumb on my throbbing clit, how Tommy flipped me over and shoved his cock inside to the hilt. Like an animal.
And I came again.
And again.
And again.
“Hey, Beautiful,” he says.
“Hi.” The single word takes effort to evict from my throat. I don’t dare say more because my jaw feels sluggish. My throat feels sore. I hate him so much. And still my mouth is begging, to unzip him here in the booth and take what my body’s been trying to recapture since.
“Did you get my text?”
I hold up the phone.
“No, I mean the picture. Of me and … Chadd.”
His pause combines with a small smile, and in that instant I’m sure Chadd told him everything. He probably bragged about fucking some slutty waitress in the bathroom, then Tommy put two and two together. I know Chadd felt pretty good afterward, and judging by how many times I’ve had to fight his advances, I’d say he wants an encore. I imagine that enthusiasm was infectious. Maybe Chadd got angry, and Tommy got hungry.
I’ve hit that, and I could hit it again. Looks like she won’t spread for you more than once, but I bet she’ll spread like butter for me.
I force my voice to stay steady. I’m not intimidated or afraid. I’m drawn toward him like a magnet. Everything I’m fighting now, it’s me versus me. Brain versus pussy. Sense versus lust. Logic versus programming, human versus beast.
“I got it.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“You didn’t reply. Why didn’t you reply, Maya?”
“It wasn’t from you. You didn’t send it.”
“Mmm-hmm. It was from … Chadd. Who you know.”
“That’s right.”
“If I’d sent it, would you have replied? I just wanted to say hi.”
“I don’t know. I guess.”
“What would you have said?”
“‘Hi.’”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all you said,” I tell him.
“Hmm. Well. Hi again.”
“Hi.”
“We should talk, you and me,” he says.
“Why?”
“We have so much in common.”
Like my daughter, I want to say. But what’s the point? Mackenzie and I have survived just fine so far on our own. Reminding Tommy of what he already knows but has always denied in his cocky way will only invite him in. And if I seriously had doubts about Grady being in Mackenzie’s life, they pale in intense comparison to how badly I want Tommy to stay out of it.
“I don’t think so, Tommy.”
“I always liked you.”
“Really.” My first instinct is to argue that he didn’t always like me — that he ignored me for all those years I was silently crushing on him, thinking of his kiss, writing his name, picturing his perfect face. And I want to remind him that since the night we had sex, he’s seemed to go right back to ignoring me. He’s only here because he wants seconds. I guess a chat with his buddy Chadd reminded him that I’m ripe for the asking.
Fucking bastards.
And fuck me, that I feel myself responding to the obvious desire I feel radiating from him.
I don’t say what’s on my mind. I won’t deny that he “always liked me” because that’s the game he wants to play. Seduction is seduction, and Tommy and I have a story whether I like it or not. If I say more than I should, he’ll tell me I’m pretty. He’ll find a way to get me alone, and I’ll go.
But no. I won’t. I refuse. I know who Tommy is and how he’ll be after … after that thing I won’t let myself think of. After the thrusting. The clawing. The screaming and the sweat.
“Sure. Hey, when’s your shift over?”
“My tables are waiting.”
“I’m ‘your tables.’ You haven’t even taken my order.”
“What do you want?”
“You didn’t even introduce yourself. Shouldn’t you say that your name is Maya and you’ll be ‘taking care of me’?”
He shifts sideways. His smile tips almost on end. If we were somewhere else, I could take care of him, all right. And oh God, my body wants it. I’m soaking wet. Despite knowing better, every bit of me is doing just what he wants.
“What do you want, Tommy? Are you just here to harass me?”
His face registers hurt. “I’m here to eat. Did I do something wrong?”
You used me. You knocked me up; you ruined what I had with Grady; you turned your back on us, laughing. I could have come after you for support. But thinking of touching you again, even with a court order, made me too sick to bother.
Until now. Oh, do I want to touch him now.
“I’ll be back. Give you some time to look at the menu.” I start to move past, giving Tommy and any possible reach a nice wide berth. But Tommy doesn’t try to grab me like Chadd did, using his hands. He grabs me with words instead.
“I want to meet her,” he says from behind my back.
I turn.
“You heard me. I want to be part of her life.”
My mouth hangs open. “No,” I say.
“She’s my daughter.”
“Something you’ve never acknowledged. Something you’ve never tried to help me with. Something you’ve never shown interest in until now.”
“Well, I’ve come around.”
“Then support her. Pay your fair share.”
Tommy seems to consider. He’s cocky, but persuasive so often because the look is never overtly disobedient. Tommy is never exactly saying, I’ll do what I want, and you can’t stop me. His body usually says something closer to, Here’s what’s sensible. You don’t want to be stupid by disagreeing, do you?
“Fine.” And the codicil I can see in his eyes almost sickens me: I suppose it’s in my budget to buy your dignity.
“Never mind,” I say. “Forget I said anything.”
“No. I want to do what’s right,” he says, giving me a look that says the exact opposite. “But obviously that means I’ll get visitation. Or you and I could have our own arrangement.” His eyes rake me from bottom to top.
I take a step closer, trying to be bold, keeping my voice low so I won’t be overheard.
“You had your chance.”
“The world is full of second chances.”
“So, what? Now you want to get married? Get a little house with a white picket fence?”
“Now you’ve gone too far. I just want to be … closer.”
There’s something in the way he’s looking at me that I’ve been trying to place, and now I see it. I can’t believe it took me so long to recognize, given that it’s a Tommy Finch hallmark: dishonesty, plain and simple.
“You’re so full of shit.”
“I’m not. I’ll pay, like you said.”
“I’m not for sale.”
“It’s not just about you, Maya.”
“We’re not for sale.”
“Why don’t you trust me?”
“Twenty years of knowing you.”
“See, now,” he says, “that hurts.”
“Why now, Tommy? Mackenzie is almost ten years old. You didn’t want to help when I got pregnant, and you haven’t wanted to help since. So why are you so goddamn interested in mending fences now?”
“I got to thinking about what matters in life. I’m trying to be a better person.”
I feel my face contort, like I’ve bitten a lemon. “Oh, bullshit.”
“You said you didn’t want my help. Didn’t need it because you had Grady.” His lip curls up into a sinister smile. “How did that work out for you?”
“It was a mistake.”
“Trying to be with Grady?”
“What we did. One little slip, nothing more.”
“Hmm. And you regret it. Even after that beautiful little girl of ours?”
“Don’t twist my words, Tommy. This isn’t about her. This is about you. You’re here because he’s back, aren’t you?”
“Grady?” Another fake-thoughtful nod. “Yes, I guess he is back. Ran into him the other night. Apparently, for some people, no time’s passed. He hasn’t changed. Kind of sad, really. I just wanted to talk. But guess what Grady did?”
“Goodbye, Tommy,” I say, starting to turn.
“He ran away.”
I shouldn’t engage, but I almost have to. I began this encounter turned on, and the hideous thing is that I still am. I don’t know what kind of self-sabotaging voodoo is living inside me, but the more fury I feel, the hotter I get. He can fight with me. Or he can pin me down and have his way. Either would make me happy until I’m miserable.
“How dare you come in here,” I say, moving closer than I should, my voice practically a hiss. “How dare you even talk to me after all that’s happened.”
Tommy gives an annoyingly casual shrug, as if he doesn’t notice my vitriol. “I’m just trying to open a dialogue. After talking to Chadd, I got this intense impulse to renew acquaintances with the girl from my past.”
“I’m not interested.”
“How about in the bathroom? Would you be interested in there?”
I can’t speak. I can’t move. I just stand there with my mouth hanging open.
Tommy stands. There’s a small satchel in the booth beside him, and he takes his time gathering it, checking the flap, making sure it’s closed. I gape for maybe ten seconds, but it feels like an eternity before we’re standing face to face, Tommy finally ready to do what I’ve asked and get out of my sight.
“Tell your boyfriend I said hi,” Tommy says.
Then he’s gone, and I sit in his vacated booth before I fall.