Page 94 of Riding the Edge

Chapter Twenty-nine

“I gave Rab my two weeks notice today,” I say as I squirt some lotion into the palm of my hand. Lifting my leg onto the bed, I rub the moisturizer into my skin and look towards the doorway of my bedroom. Leaning against the frame, with a towel tied loosely around his waist, Al meets my gaze.

“How’d that go?” he questions, rounding the bed.

In the last week or so, he’s spent every night in my bed and I’ve learned the man isn’t a fan of pajamas. In fact, he’s not a fan of underwear either. Dropping the towel, he pulls the comforter and slides into bed just as naked as the day he was born.

“Good,” I reply, working the lotion into my other leg. “He was very understanding and told me I could come back whenever I was ready. I didn’t tell him I decided to take the job with Riggs.”

“We need to talk about that,” he mutters, leaning his back against the headboard. “You’re not going to be able to work for a while, Maria.”

“I know that,” I insist. “But when I am ready, I’ll be working at the bar, not Rab’s.”

Cocking his head to the side, he scratches his beard. He doesn’t have to say a word for me to know there’s something on his mind. I actually noticed he wasn’t himself as soon as he came over tonight. Aside from being unusually quiet, he spent most of the evening sitting on the front stoop, nursing an entire six-pack of beer by himself.

At first, I wasn’t sure what to make of the sudden mood change but decided to give him space to work out whatever was bothering him. It’s the least I could do considering he’s been a pillar of strength for me, going above and beyond with not only me but also with my kids. He’s accompanied me to every doctor’s visit, driven me anywhere I needed to go and all the while, he’s reminded me I can have fun, that there are things in my life I still enjoyed.

Things I hadn’t realized I missed.

More importantly, Al’s taught me how to lean and that I’m not alone in this battle. I’m starting to understand that having someone in your life doesn’t make you weak. Still, as wonderful as he’s been, I can’t imagine he’s not feeling the effects of this too. Maybe that’s the change in him. Maybe he’s finally coming to terms with what is happening here.

“Is something wrong?” I question, turning to face him. “You’ve been really quiet all night.”

“No,” he says instantly. Reaching out, he rubs his hand over my silky thigh and meets my gaze. “I’m just beat,” he adds. Leaning forward, he cups the back of my head and guides me towards his mouth. Al isn’t a chaste kisser. When he gives me his mouth, he gives me his soul with every stroke of his tongue. So, when he pulls away quickly and turns the lamp off it’s another telltale sign that something is weighing on him.

Rolling onto my back, I stare up at the ceiling as he twists and turns beside me, trying to make himself comfortable. I should let it go, accept that he’s tired and ignore the nagging feeling that’s consuming me but, in my experience, ignorance is not bliss. Sitting up, I reach over and turn on the lamp next to me. The light streams through the room and Al groans next to me.

“Lady—”

“We should talk about it,” I say, cutting him off.

“What?”

“Whatever is bothering you, we should talk about.”

“Did I say something was bothering me?”

“You didn’t have to,” I argue, watching as he releases an exasperated sigh. “It’s finally hitting you isn’t it?” His eyes slice to mine and he knifes up. “You need to tell me if this is becoming too much for you because it’s only going to get worse, Al. I swear to you, I will not be—”

“Stop right there,” he growls. “Have I given you any indication that this is not where I want to be?”

“No, you’ve been wonderful but—”

“But nothing, Lady,” he interrupts angrily. “The only good I got right now, is you. Don’t throw shade on that.”

“Tell me what’s wrong, Al,” I plead, taking his hand. “This doesn’t only work one way. You can’t be the only one giving in this relationship. I need to feel like I’m contributing something to level the scales, even if that something is just my ear.”

“Lady, you tip the scales every day you let me be part of your life,” he rasps, dragging me closer to him. “I don’t want to dump my shit on you.”

Realizing his shit has to do with his club, I inch closer to him and contemplate how to merge that part of his life into our relationship. There are things I need to learn and accept about Al’s club and forcing him to keep those parts of him to himself is not fair.

Letting out an exasperated breath, he grunts and throws his legs over the edge of the bed, startling me. Dropping his elbows onto his knees, he bends his head. “We don’t do this here,” he growls.

My eyebrows knit together in confusion and I’m about to question what he means, but he quickly glances over his shoulder and levels me with an intense stare.

“I won’t bring my demons into our bedroom,” he explains. “If you’re so hellbent on knowing what’s got me twisted, then get dressed because I’m not discussing it in the bed I fuck you and love you in. Here,” he says, digging his finger into the mattress. “…is off limits. Satan doesn’t get this too.”

Al doesn’t give me a chance to process his words much less respond to them. He tears his eyes from me and makes quick work of getting out of the bed. If there is anything I am certain of, it’s that Al doesn’t share much with anyone. He takes everyone’s problems and makes them his own. His mind never stops. He’s always thinking about something, worrying about someone. It’s never about him.

---