Chapter 42: Chapter 42
Scott packs up his belongings and puts them in his Mercedes before we head to the Paddock in separate cars to thank Coach Tammy. The Paddock is a bar located in the core of Lagos, with a large wooden door, small round tables, dim lighting, and all the makings of a cozy atmosphere. We find Tammy at the bar nursing a cold one with what appears to be a few of the regulars.
He sees Scott and I walk in and gets up to greet us staggering as he does so. “Do you want to get a table?” he offers.
Scott and I look at each other before answering, “Thanks coach, but we just want to go back home. Here’s your key, thanks for letting me stay with you.”
“Anytime Scott, my door is always open to both of you.”
“Did you want us to drive you home,” I offer?
“No thanks,” he grins giving us a hug and inoffensively shooing us out the front door of the pub, “you kids go have fun, you shouldn’t be in a bar with old fuddy-duddy’s like me on Christmas Day! You should be out doing fun things, go get married!” he jokes.
Scott walks me back to his mother’s car and opens the driver’s side door for me, “I’ll meet you back at Mom's,” he says.
“Too right you will, I’ll be driving behind you the entire time, so don’t try losing me!” I say scolding him playfully by wiggling my finger in front of his face.
“I never want to lose you,” he says in that breathy hot way of his. He leans towards me, connecting his lips to mine. We fit together like Lego. I tingle as his tongue dives deeper into my mouth, taking charge of the kiss. A guttural moan escapes me as I want Scott in the worst way. I wrap my leg around him trying to rub up against him, desperately needing him inside of me for relief. His hand tangles in the hairs on the back of my neck and I peek at his battered face through partially opened eyes as he tries to consume me. His tongue swirls around mine wildly and the force of his kiss pushes my head back as his body starts pressing against mine, “Marry me,” he says in-between kisses.
I try pushing him away so I can get him to say it again but he holds me tighter, kissing me harder.
“Yes,” I breathe because I became we when I fell in love with him, resulting in both of us never being whole without each other. Deborah is waiting for us in her living room when we arrive home. Scott walks in quietly with his bag flung over his shoulder. He sees her and drops it hugging her. She starts crying in his arms, “I was so worried for you. I’m so sorry for what your father did to you.”
“It’s not your fault mom,” he says rubbing her shoulder.
She steps out from his hold and asks, “Are you guys hungry? Can I make you something?” she dotes.
I can’t even think of food, floating on cloud nine. I want to shout our engagement to the world, call mom, text everyone, post it on Facebook, send an Instagram to every user in the universe, but something makes me hesitate. It’s a combination of wanting to hear Scott tell his mother and our age. I’m not even sure if we are legally allowed to get married. I’m still eighteen and Scott is only nineteen. I don’t know the laws, whether we are of age. We haven’t discussed anything, maybe Scott wants to elope. Note to self, Google legal marrying age in the federation. I imagine breaking the news to mom and Aunt Grace. Auntie would probably think it’s wonderful while mom will freak, or maybe she won’t. She is so unpredictable.
Scott starts walking towards the kitchen, “I’m starving, Isabella are you hungry?”
“I think I’m more tired than hungry, can I just have something light?” “Sure, how about a sandwich?” Deborah offers.
“Perfect,” I confirm.
We eat in the breakfast room next to the kitchen. Deborah and Scott are having their leftover turkey, while I have a turkey sandwich. We keep the conversation light, avoiding various topics like Scott’s father or our engagement. I am so disappointed he didn’t tell his mom about us; my cheeks are hot. I start questioning myself whether he was serious or not. I don’t dare ask why in front of her, it will have to wait until we are alone.
I have trouble finishing my very dry turkey sandwich, delicately sipping milk, trying to get the bird to go down my esophagus. Scott is staring, Deborah notices but doesn’t say anything. She knows there is some sort of trouble in paradise, but she is wise enough judging by Scott’s mood not to go there.
I shower the first chance I have stripping down to nothing before enjoying the hot water pelting against my skin. I lather up with loads of Scott’s body wash loving the smell of him all over me. I wrap myself with a towel and walk past him on my way to his bedroom. I feel him turning around to follow me but I lock the door behind me preventing him from coming in. I’m too tired to have any kind of discussion tonight. He snubbed me by not telling his mother our good news, so he will have to suffer the consequences of not being invited back to his room.
The following morning I find Scott and his mother sitting at the breakfast table halfway done their breakfast. They have a place set for me and unlike being at home, there’s food on it. Deborah gets up from the table and asked me, “Do you want juice, water, or milk Isabella?”
“Juice will be fine.” The smell of eggs and bacon is mouthwatering and I can’t wait to dig in. I don’t notice myself glaring at Scott, but apparently, I am. When we head back to our apartment he accuses me of it, saying that the only reason he told her at breakfast was because of the look I gave him. He wanted to wait for a better time. I told him that look he thought he saw wasn’t me glaring at him but me thinking.
I start sipping my orange juice when he turned to her and blurts, “I’ve asked Isabella to marry me last night mom, and she said yes.”
Floored, I’m floored. She starts laughing like he cracked the most hilarious joke she’s ever heard, but when she notices we weren’t laughing with her, her expression turns deadly, “You’re not joking?”
“No,” he says, “I’m not.”
She looks at me, “Are you pregnant?”
He slams his fork down offended by her question, the rest of the cutlery lying on the table clinked loudly, “No, she’s not pregnant. We’re in love with each other.”
A little Scott running around wouldn’t be the end of the world. It would ruin the contract we signed for the shows we promised starting up in January. I’m sure people have become pregnant during a contract in the past; our lawyer would deal with it, maybe extend the contract or decrease our pay. Would I be allowed to skate while I was pregnant? I’d probably lose the baby if I fell hard enough. I better not skate, it’s not worth it.
“Isabella?” Scott startles me out of daydreaming with his edgy bordering on irritable tone.
Suddenly, I notice both of them staring at me, I squirm in my chair, “Ya?” Deborah stares at me concerned, “Are you all right?”
“I’ve been much worse,” I answer honestly.
“Let’s go,” he grumbles as though I paid attention to their exchange. “Where? I’m trying to enjoy my breakfast, you know I never get breakfasts like this Scott,” I whine.
“Let her eat,” Deborah snaps, “she might be eating for two.” “She’s not fucking pregnant,” Scott growls.
“You don’t know that,” I say shocking both of them into silence. His anger feels like a current of electricity in the air. He carries our luggage to the car slamming the trunk and his door closes in the process. I sit in the passenger side of the car petrified he’ll get set him off again. Deborah waves at us from inside the house. I wave back hoping Scott doesn’t notice, but he does.
His hand lands on the back of my headrest and he backs up. I chose my words wisely so doesn’t go on defense, “I was hurt when you didn’t tell your mother about us on Christmas.”
“I wanted your mother to be there too,” he explained. It amazes me how considerate he is. I just wish he realizes that I can’t read his damn mind.
“Oh, so then why did you tell her today?”
“You were glaring at me. I felt like I had no choice.” “How so?”
“You ignored me last night and this morning you were acting funny at breakfast.”
“I wasn’t glaring, I was thinking,” I correct him innocently. “It was a glare,” he argues. “Could you be pregnant?”
“Sure, it is possible I guess. You haven’t been wearing anything and I’m not on the pill. It’s not impossible.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I doubt I am. I would think you would be more careful after Lara. If I was pregnant with your child, I wouldn’t have aborted it or pass it off as someone else's; I would have adored him or her.”
“We’re too young to have a baby, we’re not ready.”
“You feel we’re ready to get married,” I argue. “That’s different!”
“If you feel that way then you better protect us,” I snap, “I on the other hand would embrace it.”
“Fine,” he snarls.
We drive the rest of the way in silence. When we enter the apartment our eyes locked onto each other. He predatorily closes the distance between us. He’s broody, and his face badly bruised and scruffy. I loved his six o’clock shadow, his wayward chocolate hair which is a sexy uncontrollable mess. He’s shooting pheromones at me that I’m helpless to resist. He stands tall and muscular; I weaken at the knees for him.
If I wasn’t so attracted to him, I would be scared shitless at this point, but no matter how angry he is at me, I know I never have anything to fear except for his monstrous cock causing havoc on my poor insides while he shows me who’s boss. I want him so bad; I have to wet my lips from panting.
I bolt like I’m being attacked. He chases after me, causing me to half scream half giggle, feeling him close in behind me. His hand wraps around my waist the way it always does and he spins me around making me face him. He cups both my cheeks with his hands and then he tilts his head before advancing his lips to cover mine.
Each kiss is more demanding than the last. They keep getting longer and longer, it’s getting harder to breathe. I gasp for air whenever I can; pushing him away, but that is stupid because he just holds onto me tighter.
He savagely tears my blouse popping off every button, then with the snap of a finger, I feel my bra strap loosen and then dangle. “Was that really necessary?” I ask.
He shuts me up with his lips and backs me into his room. I want to tear his clothes off but he’s controlling everything, I just try to keep my head above water, it's game over for me.
He is naked again. I really want him.