Page 103 of When Wrecked Meets Ruined
“You think I’m just here for sex?” He looked offended, like how dare I assume that was all he wanted. Ridge kissed the tip of my nose, then rolled onto his back and linked our pinkies. And I died a little.
I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. And those butterflies in my stomach… there was a whole kaleidoscope of them.
Ridge loved me.
He lovedme.
* * *
He didn’t leave. We stayed up all night talking, our voices hushed. We talked about movies and music and life. He asked me to describe my dream house, so I did.
He told me that after he found his mom dead, he hot-wired a car and headed south. He said the car broke down right outside of Memphis, so he abandoned it and hitched a ride into town.
“Figured since I was there, I’d swing by Graceland. Check out where the King lived.”
It sounded like such a Ridge thing to do that it made me laugh. He said that all he got to see was the outside, but it was disappointing as fuck.
I told him how I used to run along the abandoned railroad tracks when I was a kid and use one of the rails as a balance beam. As if keeping my balance would prepare me for a life of chaos. “In the spring, the tracks are covered with bluebonnets. It always amazes me that something beautiful could grow in such an ugly place.”
“Youamaze me,” he said.
He amazed me too.
I was amazed that we’d found each other. Two damaged people in a broken world that didn’t feel as broken or as ugly with him in it.
“What were you like as a kid?” I asked.
He thought about it for a minute, and I expected something deep and insightful. “The same, but shorter.”
That had me laughing again, and it occurred to me that nobody made me laugh as much as Ridge did. He said that he was the class clown when he was a kid, and it didn’t surprise me. Ridge drew attention to himself. He basked in it, whereas I’d always tried to fly under the radar.
“I got into a lot of fights at school,” he said.
“What were you fighting for?”
“Lunch money. Social injustices. You name it, I fought for it. All the nerds came to me for protection. I shook them down for money and got them to do my homework. Quid pro quo.” He shrugged, not sounding the least bit sorry about it. “How about you?”
“I never beat anyone up for lunch money.”
“Because you’re a girl.”
I took offense to that. “Are you saying girls can’t fight?”
“I didn’t say that. But let’s face it. No matter how tough you are, girls and guys are made differently.”
“Why? Because you have a dick?”
“There’s that. But I’m six foot four and weigh two hundred ten pounds. This is solid muscle, baby.” He flexed his arm, making a muscle. I pretended that I wasn’t impressed. “Who do you think is gonna win a fight? Me?” He wrapped his hand around my bicep. His thumb and middle finger almost touched. “Or you?”
“Fight me, and we’ll see.” My hand coasted down toward his crotch and the next thing I knew he’d flipped me onto my back and pinned my hands to the mattress.
Ridge had lightning-quick reflexes, and he’d used them to make his point. I wouldn’t stand a chance against him.
He looked down at my face and smirked.
“I keep a knife under my mattress,” I warned him.
“Try to reach it, Cherry. I dare you,” he challenged.
