Part 22 (1/2)
”Hold on tight,” I tell her as we both hop on my bike. I'm glad when she follows instruction and grabs a hold of my waist.
It takes about thirty minutes to get to the area of Mesa where I grew up. But the weather is nice and it feels good to ride my motorcycle again.
When we finally stop we're in front of a dilapidated house that I'm surprised to see is still occupied. The neighborhood wasn't great when we lived here, but it's gone even further downhill. If I was a gambler I'd definitely put money on several of the houses in the neighborhood being drop houses for illegals or meth houses.
Even though we both get off the bike to stretch our legs I notice Brooke doesn't make a move away from me or the motorcycle. Not that I blame her. The neighborhood is scary as h.e.l.l. If it wasn't the middle of the day and I didn't know how to protect myself I'd be scared too.
”So this is it?” her voice is soft and unsure.
”This is it,” I confirm.
There's pity in her eyes, and that's the last thing I wanted. So I tell her that I wouldn't be who I am today if I didn't grow up here. I know it sounds like one of my stupid cliche's but at least it's not mangled and it's the truth.
”Tell me what it was like?” she probes.
”It's weird because if you don't know any better you think your f.u.c.ked up life is normal. For a long time I didn't realize that most kids didn't live like we did. Then I started noticing things at school. Like other kids would have lunches that they said their mothers' packed. Or they'd at least bring lunch money so they could buy a school lunch. If we didn't steal candy bars from the little corner store on our way to school we wouldn't have anything to eat.”
”If it's any consolation your story is making me feel good about my parents for the first time.”
”I'm glad I could be of service.”
”What were they like?”
I take in a deep breath. ”You know I've never talked about this stuff with anyone.”
When she smiles I realize that I would tell her anything, all of my deepest, darkest secrets, just to see that smile.
So I continue. ”My mom was mentally ill. Bipolar. She had a hard time taking care of herself most of the time. She definitely wasn't able to take care of her kids. She didn't believe in counseling or doctors. She never really got any kind of treatment except when she was forced to. She self-medicated with booze or drugs. She eventually killed herself. My dad was in a rock band and travelled a lot. He overdosed. Rayne lived with us because his family was f.u.c.ked up too. The three of us raised ourselves. We're lucky we had music. Otherwise we probably would have been drug dealers and fit right into this ugly a.s.s neighborhood.”
After Brooke gives me a quick kiss on the cheek she says, ”Thanks for sharing that. I know it's not easy.”
I shrug. ”It is what it is. It's in the past. The only thing I'm concerned about now is our future together.”
She gulps. And I can see the hesitation in her eyes. I'm hoping what I show her next will convince her that I'm serious about being with her.
”I have a surprise,” I tell her.
Raising an eyebrow she asks, ”Does it involve ice cream?”
I laugh. ”You're obsessed with the stuff.”
”Especially when it also includes whipped cream and a cherry.”
”I hope what I'm going to show you is even better.”
She frowns. ”I didn't think there was anything better than ice cream.”
”Please say that f.u.c.king me is better than ice cream.”
She laughs. ”Okay, you got me there.”
As I get on my bike I say, ”Hop on. We're heading back to Scottsdale.”
”What are we doing here?” she asks.
I parked in front of a model home in a brand new development that was just completed. I decided to buy it on the spot when the real estate agent showed it to me because it came fully decorated and furnished. A few weeks after I put the deposit down I signed a bunch of papers, gave them a cas.h.i.+er's check for five hundred and fifty five thousand and was handed the keys to the place in return. I didn't realize buying a house was so easy.
”This place is gorgeous,” Brooke's eyes are wide as she scans the front gardens.
I remove the keys from my front pocket and dangle them in front of her. ”Want to go inside?”
She frowns. ”Who lives here?”
I smile. ”We do. As soon as we bring our stuff over.”
Her jaw nearly drops to the ground. ”How can we live here?”
I shrug. ”I bought it.”
Her face looks skeptical. ”You bought this house? How did you do that?”
”I signed a bunch of papers and gave them a check.”
”Didn't you have to get a mortgage? That takes time.”
I shake my head. ”I have no idea what that is. I just paid for it. They told me how much it cost and I gave them the money.”
She starts blinking really fast and it's kind of making me nervous. ”You just gave them the money for the house. All of it. You just paid for it. No mortgage.”
”Yup.”
”My parents have been paying a mortgage on their house for twenty years. And it's nowhere near as nice as this house. How in the world did you just pay for it?”
”We sold a lot of music.”
She's still blinking really fast. Like her eyes are about to explode.
”This isn't really the reaction I was expecting,” I tell her.
”I guess I'm just in shock. It's not every day someone just buys me a house to live in.”
I grin. ”I hope not. I don't want anyone but me buying you houses.” I pull her close and kiss her. A long, hot kiss that makes my d.i.c.k twitch. I don't even know how long it's been since I've been inside of her. I lost count after the first thirty days.
”Forty two days,” she announces.
I narrow my eyes at her. ”What does that mean?”
”How long it's been since you f.u.c.ked me...” When she looks at me seductively I hope to G.o.d she's thinking the same thing I am.