Dirty Pucker (Denver Bashers #2)

35. Del

Chapter 35

Del

W e walk back into Ingrid’s place. She turns to me. “Are you hungry?”

Just the mention of food makes my stomach growl. “Yeah, actually.”

I follow her to her kitchen. We reheat the Chinese food I brought and sit at her kitchen island to eat. The first bite I take sets off my appetite. I inhale my entire plate.

I glance over at Ingrid, who’s looking at me, smiling sweetly.

“I guess I was hungrier than I thought,” I say.

She slides me her plate. “I took too much. Wanna finish mine?”

“You sure?”

She nods. “My eyes were bigger than my stomach.”

I smile at her phrasing. I tell her thanks and dig into her leftovers.

“That’s probably so weird that I said that.”

I shake my head. “It was cute. I don’t hear many people our age say that.”

Ingrid sips from her water glass. “My dad says it all the time. He’s famous for taking lots of food when we eat dinner together and not finishing it all. My mom always steals his leftovers. It’s kind of their thing.”

She smiles but after a couple of seconds, it fades. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

She bites her lip, hesitating. “I shouldn’t bring up my dad when you’re going through something awful with yours.”

I frown and scoop Ingrid’s hand in mine. “Hey. You don’t have to apologize for that. And you don’t have to not talk about your dad. He sounds like a good guy.”

“I just didn’t want it to come off like I was rubbing it in or…”

I reach over and cup her face with my free hand. “Ingrid. I didn’t think that, even for one second.”

Worry flashes in her soft blue eyes as she stares at me. My chest aches at just how much Ingrid is concerned about my feelings right now—just how much she cares about me. And my mom.

She dropped everything to come with me to check on her. She sat with my mom and comforted her. And she gave her phone number to her in case she wanted to reach out to her.

She’s known my mom for just a couple hours and yet she’s shown her so much care and kindness.

A wave of emotion rushes through me.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing to you,” I say. “This night wasn’t at all what I promised you. I dragged you into this mess with my family…” My shoulders sink as I exhale. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyebrows wrinkle. “Hey. Don’t say that. You have nothing to be sorry about either, okay? I wanted to be with you tonight, Del. I care about you and I want to make sure that you’re okay and that your mom is okay.”

That emotion inside of me flares up. I pull her to me and gently kiss her. “Thank you,” I whisper against her lips. I lean back and look at her.

“I’m so sorry for how your dad treated your mom. That’s just…” She shakes her head, her eyes turning glassy. That ache inside of me deepens.

She blinks quickly. “You all have been through so much.”

Emotion seeps up my chest, jamming in my throat. It feels like a rock sitting in my stomach. I take a second to clear my throat.

“My mom’s been through the worst of it. She met my dad when she was really young. Like, barely nineteen. He was ten years older than her. It wasn’t long before she got pregnant with me…” I trail off, feeling the slightest bit unnerved at all that I’ve said.

The only person who knows the full story about my dad and how he treated us is Sam, my closest friend. Most of the women I’ve dated, I haven’t even mentioned my dad. My most recent ex, Makenna, knew about him, but I glossed over the worst of it. I didn’t want anyone I was dating to know that I came from such a messed-up background. I was too embarrassed, too ashamed.

But with Ingrid, it’s different. I know she won’t judge me. I know she won’t think any less of me, no matter what I say.

“What do you need from me right now?” she asks, holding my gaze.

My heart thuds in my chest as I look at Ingrid. My entire body is tense and tight from the stress of the past couple of hours. The only thing that calms me, the only thing that makes me feel even a little better is holding Ingrid.

I push aside our plates of food, grab Ingrid by the waist, and set her on top of the kitchen island in front of me. Then I stand up and hook my hands under her legs. She instantly wraps her legs around my waist and cups her hands on my cheeks.

I grip her waist. “I just need you.”

She slinks her arms around my neck and holds me tight. Closing my eyes, I rest my head against her shoulder. My muscles instantly loosen. My body starts to relax.

It feels so, so good being in her arms.

After a while, she leans back and looks at me, her gaze soft and caring. Waiting for me patiently to say more, when I’m ready.

“My parents got married pretty quickly after getting pregnant with me,” I say. “And I guess it wasn’t long after that when my dad started showing his true colors.”

Ingrid’s expression turns pained, but she stays quiet.

“He had a pretty bad drinking problem. And gambling problem. He still does, I’m guessing. He’d steal cash from my mom so he could gamble or go to the bar. He even sold our stuff a few times. I came home one day from school and most of my toys were gone. I had this Hot Wheels classic car collection that I loved to play with. Out of everything I had, they were my favorite. But he didn’t care. He sold it and took the cash to the casino.”

Pain sears through my chest at the memory.

“It’s probably stupid that I’m still so upset about losing those toys when I was a kid…”

Ingrid holds my face in her hands. “It’s not stupid. You have every right to be sad and angry. That was a horrible thing your dad did. He had no right.”

The conviction in Ingrid’s tone is the comfort I didn’t know I needed. She feels for me. She’s upset for me. And that means everything.

I explain how he never could hold down a job for very long. “My mom had to work a ton of hours, on top of taking care of my sister and me, just for us to survive.”

I pause for a second. She kisses my forehead. I close my eyes and hum, grateful for the comfort she’s giving me right now.

That rock digs deeper in my gut. “Sometimes he’d come home drunk and start an argument with her. He’d corner her while yelling at her. She’d try to get away, but he was bigger than her, so he’d grab her and slam her against the wall.”

Anger rips through me as I remember my mom crying out in pain while my dad screamed at her.

“I’d always run over and hit him or grab him to try and make him stop, but I was just a little kid. It was easy for him to toss me aside or slap me away.”

Ingrid’s blue eyes fill with tears. “Oh my god, Del. That’s horrible.” She hugs me tight.

That helpless feeling I felt so many times as a little kid collides with the anger whirring inside of me. My throat tightens. “I felt so helpless. I just wanted to protect my mom, but I couldn’t. I tried so hard, and I failed…”

Tears tumble down Ingrid’s cheeks as she looks at me.

“My mom divorced my dad when I was in middle school. He tried breaking into the house a few times after that, but eventually he disappeared. I thought we were safe. He never reached out to us. We hadn’t heard from him in over a decade. But then a few months ago he started calling my mom again and threatening her. He wanted money from their house.”

I shake my head, feeling dizzy as I think about everything that’s happened, from years ago all the way till now.

“She was so freaked out when it happened. When she called and told me about it, I knew I had to move back to Denver and be close to her, so I could protect her and Dakota.”

I grit my teeth so hard my jaw aches. “I couldn’t protect my mom when I was a kid, but I can now. I can make up for all the times I failed to keep her safe from my dad…”

I huff out a shaky breath. “I’ve never told anyone that before. I’ve told Sam about my childhood and what my family went through with my dad, but I’ve never told him how guilty I feel about it all…”

Emotion flashes in her eyes as she gently holds my face in her hands. “Listen to me. You didn’t fail at anything, Del. You were a little kid in a horrible situation and you did the best you could at the time. There was nothing you could have done differently that would have made it better.”

Tears burn my eyes. I start to shake my head, but Ingrid stops me, holding my face in place.

“No. Listen. Please, listen. You didn’t fail. None of what happened was your fault, Del. You were the perfect son. Just like you are now.”

I take in the intensity of Ingrid’s stare and the firmness in her tone. She’s telling me the truth. She’s saying all this because she believes it—because it’s true.

That angry, helpless feeling dials back. Warmth pools in my chest.

“Please believe it,” she says, her voice soft and shaky.

I believe her.

For the first time in my life, I believe that I did everything I could to help my mom as a kid.

“I believe it,” I finally say.

That tightness in my chest starts to loosen. It’s been years of holding on to that guilt and anger. I know it won’t go away overnight, but hearing Ingrid say that it’s not my fault, that I did my best, gives me a sense of peace I didn’t know I needed.

Emotion bubbles up inside of me once more. But this time, there’s no anger simmering underneath it. All I feel is affection for this incredible woman.

I kiss her slowly and softly. I grip her body, pulling her close. I need her close to me.

I just need her.

When we break apart, she rests her forehead against mine.

“Thank you for telling me that,” she says.

“Thank you for listening,” I say.

I feel emotionally wrung out talking about all that, but in a good way. Like when I finish a brutal workout. My body is wrecked, but I know it’s good for me. I know I’ll heal and recover and be stronger than I was before.

She hugs her arms around me tighter. “Do you want to go to bed?” she asks after a quiet minute of hugging.

“I’d like that.”

I help her off the counter. We leave the dishes in the sink and walk down the hall to her bathroom. Together we brush our teeth and wash up. I follow her as she walks to her bed. We strip off our clothes and climb in.

When we’re settled under the covers, I slide my arms around her and hug her into my chest. She sinks into me and moans softly. I kiss the top of her head and close my eyes. Comfort and warmth course through me.

It’s heaven falling asleep next to this woman. This woman who listened patiently as I opened up about the deepest parts of myself. This woman who went out of her way to help my mom. This woman who broke through my deepest shame and helped me realize that I’m still good. That I’m still worthy.

This woman who I can’t stop thinking about, who makes my heart race in a way it never has.

As I drift to sleep, there’s no denying it: I’m falling hard for Ingrid.