Two things were running through my mind as I laid on my back and staring at the ceiling.
1. Get the fuck out of there.
2. Take a piss.
I only had a few more precious moments with this man and then I was going to cut all ties with him. Permanently. Not just the, 'This is the last time', crap I've been saying to myself every time I snuck into his bed every night.
I couldn't keep doing this. If I was going to end things with him, it had to really be the fucking end and I had to mean it for once.
I decided to take a piss instead.
I could end it after.
After doing my business in the bathroom, the idiot was still passed out in bed. I sighed, silently picking up my clothes from the floor and putting them on. I walked towards the door, sparing him one last glance.
Wake up, asshole. Tell me to stay and I will.
I counted to ten in my head. If he didn't wake up, I was gone.
Ten came and he was still snoring.
I shook my head and was stepping out when I heard him groan. I stilled, slowly turning my head, seeing him shifting in bed as he took a pillow and embraced it.
Wake up, you stupid man.
He didn't. I decided to fuck it and headed for the kitchen.
I procrastinated, brewing a pot of coffee as I went through his fridge. The damn thing was empty. I frowned, checking his cabinets. They only offered dust.
This guy lived in scarcity more than I did. At least I had Jude forcing food down my throat and threatening to ground me if I didn't at least eat half of the food on my plate.
I went back to his room. He was still passed out and was probably planning on sleeping through the weekend.
I sighed, eyeing the room for a moment. I spotted his discarded pants on the floor and went through the pockets, taking his wallet and keys before heading out of the room. In afterthought, I went back and kissed his cheek.
"I'll be right back," I whispered in his ear.
* * *
Never have I ever gone grocery shopping before.
Drink.
The supermarket, I didn't realize, was fucking humungous. One thing I learned was that you weren't allowed to smoke in there. Nor were you allowed to open their stuff unless you paid for it.
I didn't know what you were only supposed to get while doing the groceries since my only experience was following Nonna around in the farmer's market and carrying her purchases, but I was having a ball driving those handicap carts as I went along the aisles.
I was dumping unnecessary shit into the basket when my phone started ringing in my pocket. One glance at the screen told me it was the Blue-Eyed Schmuck. I answered it, but before I could get a word in, he started having a bitch fit.
"Seriously? What the hell is wrong with you?" Rick yelled out. "You did not only sneak out on me again, you fucking stole from me! What am I? A relief center to you? Sleeping in my bed wasn't enough now you're stealing from me? You-"
"I'm at the store," I cut in through his well-versed monologue.
"I don't give a shit if you're in fricking Antarctica! I want my car and wallet back, Angel! I swear to God, if you-"
"I'm doing the groceries, asshole," I cut in again. "Are you aware that you have nothing, absolutely nothing, in your kitchen other than left over crap from who knows when?"
There was a moment of silence, and then, "You're... you're buying groceries?" he said, sounding confused. "My groceries?"
"That's what I said," I muttered dryly, spotting my favorite cereal and dumping it in the cart. "You know, for a doctor, you have very unhealthy eating habits. Even I don't eat fast food that much."
"Are you serious?" he said almost in disbelief.
"Course I am. Just cuz I'm not the model example for health and nutrition doesn't mean I condone a destructive lifestyle that's borderline anorexic. You'd die if you lived like me for a month."
"Do you even know how to do groceries, Angel?"
I pursed my lips, my hand freezing in the air as I was about to dump a bag of Doritos in the cart.
"Course I do."
"Are you sure?"
"Course I am."
"Huh. Are you dumping unnecessary shit in the cart?"
I glanced at the unnecessary shit I've dumped in the cart.
"Course not. What do you think I am? A toddler on the loose in the junkfood aisle?" I muttered, taking out the chips and candy bars. And then I was stuck with the dilemma of where I should put them.
He chuckled, as if he could see me. "Don't go anywhere. I need to see this."
And then he hung up on me.
I called him back. He picked up on the first ring. "Don't ever hang up on me!" I snapped, receiving odd glances from the other shoppers. I smiled and hung up the phone.
* * *
Rick took out everything I've put into the cart and was insisting I wasn't supposed to drive around the handicap shopping cart because I wasn't, first of all, handicapped.
"No," I told him, refusing to get down.
"Come on. You can ride this cart instead." He gestured at the cart he was holding.
I made a face. "I can't ride in that."
"Then just push it around."
I scoffed. "No. I want this one."
He sighed again, smiling wryly. "You always get what you want, huh?"
I pursed my lips, holding the steering wheel. "I can't have you, so no."
His smile softened as he came closer to me, lifting my cap slightly to kiss me.
"If you promise not to drag race, you can drive it," he murmured against my lips. I grinned and nodded. "Come on. I'll show you how us commoners get our food," he said, gifting me wink as he strode ahead.
He spent the next twenty minutes dragging me around the place, inspecting every product that caught his eye. I was having more fun doing the groceries alone without him telling me not to put this or to put that back. And I really was getting fucking tired with him always reading the goddamn labels and scrutinizing the fruits and vegetables with a careful eye.
"Just make up your damn mind!"
He rolled his eyes and placed a bag of apples in the cart. I thought that was the end of it, but then we got to the meat section. There was a lot of meat. And Rick spent a lot of fucking time staring at the fucking meat. I narrowed my eyes at him when I caught him holding back a smile.
"You're doing this on purpose!"
He raised his brows innocently. "I'm just making sure I'm eating healthy food," he defended, grinning like the schmuck that he was.
"If you don't get on with it, I'm ditching your ass. I still have shit to do."
He quirked a brow. "Is that so?"
"Yeah. Important shit."
He folded his arms, eyeing me in amusement. "Like what?"
"Bar business."
He narrowed his eyes. "I don't want you tending bar anymore."
I drew my head back, my brows rising. "You telling me what to do?"
He smirked. "Yep."
I scoffed. "You don't get to tell me what to do."
"I do when you're stripping your clothes off in front of people."
"God, you sound like my brother." I rolled my eyes, groaning. "I can do whatever the fuck I want. It's my bar. It's my fucking clothes. So back off."
He placed his hands on the steering wheel, leaning closer to me until we were eye to eye.
"Lift my ban."
I huffed. "No."
"Why not?"
"Cuz I don't want to and you beat the shit out of MJ."
"He asked for it!"
"Don't give a shit. No fighting in my bar."
"I won't fight again. Just lift my ban," he insisted.
"Why? There's tons of bars around town."
"None of them have a hot bartender," he retorted, smirking.
"I'm pretty sure there's tons of bars employing the likes of MJ," I muttered dryly.
He gave me a flat look. "Just lift my ban, Angel."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Why do you want to go there so bad?"
"Cuz it's the only place I can be with you other than my bed."
I pursed my lips, staring back at him before sighing in resignation and taking out my phone. I scanned through my contacts, pressing call on Homicidal Sex Addict. He picked up on the NTH ring.
"This better be life and fucking death," Alex muttered, his voice groggy.
"I'm lifting Rick's ban," I said, my eyes on him.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
"No."
"It's eight in the fucking morning, you fucking brat!"
"He gets in and out. Free drinks. Got it?"
"Fine! Fuck off!"
I hung up and tucked my phone back in my pocket.
"Satisfied?"
Rick smiled. "Very," he said before snatching two pieces of steak and dumping them in the cart.
* * *
We were silently going on about putting the groceries in the fridge and cabinets when my phone rang. I sighed when it said Sergeant Big Cock on the screen.
"Yo," I said as I answered the call.
"I need you here. Right now," MJ said, sounding frantic.
I rolled my eyes. "What is it now?"
"Pops wants to go to church and visit her. I told him the mass already ended and you said he can't go to the cemetery anymore."
"Is that Red?" I heard Mikey's undeniable snarl. He always sounded pissed off.
"Yeah, Pa."
"Give her to me!"
I sighed, ignoring Rick's questioning glance. "Put him on the line, babe."
"Where are you?" Mikey snarled into the phone.
"Home," I muttered. "What's this about you having a bitch fit?"
"I wasn't! They're ganging up on me! Won't let me visit my wife! Can you believe them?!" He scoffed. "Told them I can go by myself, but they won't let me out! They're treatin' me like I'm some cripple!"
"That's cuz you are a fuckin' cripple," I said flatly. "Just calm the fuck down before you give yourself a damn stroke. If you told me you wanted to go to church, I would have been there already. But you're an atheist, remember?"
"So? Maria would have wanted me to go to church."
I rolled my eyes. "Fine. We'll go after the dinner. So stop acting like a lunatic. You're scaring the shit out of them."
"I ain't acting like no lunatic!"
I groaned, rubbing my forehead. "Just stop yellin' and cursin'. If you made Nonna cry again, I'm gonna drown you in the fuckin' pool. You hear? I mean it, Mikey."
He sighed, grumbling something under his breath. "What time are you gonna be here?"
"Around five."
"Three."
"Fine. Three. You think you'll live till then?"
"I'll try."
"Aight. That all?"
"Bring some donuts."
I rolled my eyes again. "Yeah, just don't forget your damn meds. I'll know if you don't take them."
"Fine. Shut up about it already dammit."
"Give the phone back to MJ."
"Don't bring him donuts. His sugar's getting high these days," MJ whispered when he got on the line.
"I won't. Make sure he takes his meds. He's doesn't like the new ones cuz it makes him constipated."
"Hey, Pa! Red says you gotta take your meds!" he yelled out.
"No, dumbass," I said, rolling my eyes. "You gotta check his mouth and make sure. He always hides them and spits them out when no one's looking."
"Alright, fine. What do they look like?"
"The little yellow ones. He has to take them after meals."
"Copy. Oh, don't forget you're picking up Mindy at her friend's place."
"Isn't she opening at the bar today?"
"Nah, she's closing. She's over at Stephanie's."
"Who's that again?"
"The really short one with huge tits and perky ass."
I scoffed. "You're a fucking pervert."
"What? I ain't gonna fuck her or anything."
"Just give Mikey his meds, jackass."
I hung up and put my phone back in my pocket and picked out some eggs from the fridge. Rick cleared his throat as he folded the paper bags and put them in a cabinet.
"Who was that?"
"MJ. You want cheese omelet?" I said while gathering the necessary ingredients.
"Yeah. Sure."
I already knew where everything was and what every drawer held and I went around his kitchen with ease. He just watched me as he sat by the table. He offered to help, but I declined.
Not many people knew but I actually liked cooking, I just couldn't be bothered. Jude liked cooking as much as I did and he was always the one cooking for the both of us. It seemed funny. Angel Lastor, New York's rebel without a cause wearing an apron and barefoot in the kitchen. People would pay to see this. Rick seemed amused by it too.
I fixed us both with a plate of cheese omelet and French toast stuffed with strawberries and freshly whipped cream. Rick stared at his plate for a moment before glancing at me. I smirked and held out a fork for him. He took it, tentatively cutting a piece of omelet and putting it in his mouth.
I regarded him expectantly as he let the food settle in his mouth, chewing slowly. His eyes suddenly snapped over to me, looking awed.
"Marry me," he said.
My knees fucking buckled.
"Ju-Just eat. Idiot," I stammered.
He willingly dug into his food and I sat down across from him, watching and listening to him moan in pleasure at each bite. He wolfed his food down in an impressively short amount of time and then he was passing my plate sly glances. I laughed and slid it over to him. I already had four bites anyways.
He grinned, graciously taking it, shoving half of the French toast in his mouth and moaning. I snorted, taking the towel from my shoulder and wiping the cream off his lips.
"Damn, you really can do everything."
I shrugged. "I took culinary classes when I was in high school."
He paused, looking at me. "Were you... forced to?"
I stilled at his question and he immediately caught it.
"I'm being an ass. Never mind," he mended quickly.
I chuckled lightly, looking down at my glass of water. "You're always an ass, but I guess that's what I like about you."
We still haven't discussed last night and it was becoming pretty obvious that he was pretending I hadn't told him something that could cause a paradigm shift in his perspective of me. But I honestly would rather keep pretending we were okay. Fuck reality.
"I took culinary classes as replacement for study hall out of boredom," I went on, offering him a smile. "Turns out, I'm a pretty decent cook."
He sighed, looking grim for a moment. "I didn't mean to pry."
I snorted. "You're always prying."
"I know," he said, dragging a hand over his face almost exasperatedly. "It's just hard trying to hold back when I want to know everything about you."
I eyed him cautiously. "And why is that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why do you want to know everything so much?"
He pursed his lips, shrugging. "Do I need to have a reason?"
My lips curved into a small smile. "You don't, but I'd like to know why."
He sighed, meeting my eyes with a solemn look on his face. "Because I want to justify my attraction towards you as more than just some petty infatuation."
"But you are infatuated with me."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "I was. Before, that is."
"Before?"
He nodded. "Before I started having feelings for you."
I closed my eyes, sighing. "Rick…"
"I know. If I could make it stop, I would have already. Caring for you is not an easy task. You're destructive."
I blew out a sharp breath, rubbing my face. "I know."
"And reckless. Hurtful. Cruel. Manipulative. Selfish. Arrogant. Insensitive. Violent."
"I know."
"I know those things too, but for some reason, I still keep wanting you."
I opened my eyes, seeing him battling with himself. Battling with the fact that he wanted me. Someone so utterly fucked up. It didn't make any fucking sense.
He sighed, his shoulders sagging. "You just might be the worst thing that's ever happened to me."
I cracked a small smile. "I know."
"But I can't stop," he whispered, his hand reaching for mine. "And I'm done trying to stop."
I breathed out harshly, gripping his hand tightly. "I'm so afraid that you'll wake up one day and realize what a mistake I am."
"I wake up every day with that realization."
I laughed, lowering my head to our twined hands. "You're such an ass."
"And you're a bitch," he murmured, kissing the back of my head. "But believe me when I say I won't ever leave. I'll just keep running after you until you get sick of me and I still won't leave, so you might as well just stay with me."
I shook my head, sighing in resignation. "Okay," I conceded. "I'll stay. For as long as you want me."
"And if I want you forever?"
I raised my head, bringing his hands to my lips. "I'm yours. When I said that, I meant it. Throw me away or keep me, I'm yours either way," I said, my throat growing dry at my admission. "You have me, Frederick. No one else."