Chapter 10
Riddick stormed into his bathroom, turned the cold water on, shed his clothes and stepped under the spray. He braced himself against the cool tile and looked down at his rock solid erection. Even though he had been so hard and horny the night before with the hooker, he hadn't gotten himself off.
The drive home was a thought provoking one. Riddick thought about Jack and how he would feel if she ever left him to find a boyfriend. Not only did it make him mad, he also felt saddened.
After he stood in the shower for several long minutes he stepped out and dried off. He knew he needed to tell Jack how he felt and why he was acting this way, but he didn't think he could do it while she smelled so good.
The next morning Riddick woke early. It was a new day and he decided to make the most of it. Wanting to try and make up for the last few days, he would stay home all day. Even if Jack's fertile window was still wide open, he would do everything he could to block the sensations it gave him.
He smiled as he passed Jack's room and hearing nothing, he figured she was still asleep.
Pancakes with fresh blueberries, bacon and hash browns sound good, Riddick thought as he headed into the kitchen and froze at the sight.
The plate Jack had served for herself was still untouched on the table. The other food she had cooked sat in the serving dishes in the middle of the table.
He hung his head and sighed, "What did I do?" he asked and turned to go make sure Jack was still there.
Riddick took the stairs two at a time, his normal walking steps turned into huge strides as he moved down the hallway to her room. When he reached her door, he placed his hands on it, almost like he thought he would be able to feel her vibrations through it.
"Jack," he spoke and listened again. Hearing nothing he spoke to the door again. "Jack, I was thinking about making pancakes for breakfast, but I forgot how many eggs to use." He shook his head and sighed, why did he think he needed to have an excuse to be at her door? He should just tell her the real reason he was there.
He put his hand on the doorknob and tried to turn it; it was locked. "Okay, truth is, I'm sorry for yelling at you like that last night. I just seen the kitchen the way it is and I want to check on you to see if you are okay."
There was still no answer from inside; his hand that rested on the door knob tried to turn it again. "I know you're in there, Jack, I'm going to count to three and if you don't at least talk to me, I'm breaking the door down."
No noise came from within, "One," he said and waited. "I'll do it, Jack. You know damn well I will."
He waited more, "Two. Last chance to save your door," he listened one last time.
Just as he took a couple of steps back and got in position to kick the door, Jack mumbled something that he couldn't hear. Stepping close to the door again, "What was that?" he asked.
"I said go away. I don't want to talk to you." This time he heard her clear as day, after all she screamed it.
Riddick had a good hunch about why she didn't want to talk to him. He understood it one hundred percent and probably would feel the same way if he was in her place.
"I know you are pissed at me and I don't blame you at all, Jack." He ran a hand over his face as he thought of the right words. "I want to tell you how sorry I am and if you will give me a chance I want to…to explain."
Listening, he didn't hear anything from her so he continued, "Even though you are my best friend it's still hard for me to use my big boy words and talk about certain things."
He had used the big boy words part and hoped that it would make her laugh or smile since it's something she has told him on numerous occasions. As he listened for any sound that came from her, he thought back to one of those many times.
"Do you realize that you just spent over twenty minutes trashing your room, when you could have just asked me if I knew where your keys were at?" she asked, staring at the back of his head.
Riddick bent over, picked up the pants he had worn the day before and checked the pockets again. "They are my keys; you won't know where they ran off to," he said stubbornly.
Crossing her arms over her chest like him, she cocked her head to the side. "Try me," she said, wanting him to just ask her if she knew where they were. When he turned and looked at her, she knew he was silently waiting for her to tell him where the damn keys were. "Use your big boy words and ask me," she spoke to him as if she was a mother talking to her three year old son.
He growled, "I don't have fuckin' time for this shit, Jack," he said, hating when she talked to him like that, but somewhere inside of him he knew he should just ask her. Yet being too stubborn, he refused and so it was his turn to stare at her.
With a shrug, Jack turned to leave Riddick's now torn up room.
Before she could take too many steps through the clean clothes, books and other junk that now littered his floor, Riddick sighed. "Fine!" he almost shouted, but quickly turned his attitude to a lower level. "Jack? Have you seen my keys?" he asked, trying to sound as nice and calm as possible.
Turning back around she nodded and smiled, "Downstairs on the cabinet near the TV." A grin came over her face as she watched a grimace appear on his. "Big boy words, Riddick, big boy words get you very far in life," she said and laughed as he picked up a pair of dirty socks and chucked them at her before he stormed past her to get his keys.
He sighed as he focused back to what was happening with Jack. When he still didn't get a response from her he nodded his head in silent surrender. With a sigh he talked again, "Okay, well I'll make some extra pancakes for you incase you get hungry," he said and walked back downstairs.
Jack heard Riddick's words as she lay in bed. She heard the sincerity in his voice, but he was wrong about one thing; she wasn't pissed at him, she was hurt that after all of these years that he still couldn't talk to her about things.
What got her the most was when he referred to her as his best friend. She laid there for a while longer and fought with the choice to either stay in bed or head down for some breakfast. The choice became simpler when she smelled the great aroma of food that seemed to break down the walls that she tried to build up.
Wearing a pair of knee length shorts and a sweatshirt, Jack slowly walked down the stairs and into the living room. She stopped, thought about going back upstairs, but walked the few steps to the kitchen and stood in the doorway.
Riddick looked up at Jack when he saw her enter. The first thing he noticed was the dark circles under her eyes, from a lack of sleep he assumed. Her normally pulled back hair was messy and loose.
Giving her a soft smile he was the first to speak, "Coffee's done if you want some."
She didn't even bother to look at him as she moved over and poured herself a cup of the hot dark liquid. Keeping her back to him added a few scoops of sugar and stirred it.
He laid the plate of hot pancakes on the table and glanced over at her outfit. He wasn't used to seeing her in her night clothes, since she made a point to be dressed when she cooked breakfast.
Standing there she sipped her coffee before she turned and leaned against the counter. Her eyes stayed fixed on the table. It looked as if Riddick had thrown last night's dinner away and already had the dishes soaking in the sink.
Riddick sat down in Jack's normal chair, because Jack stood where he normally sat. "I've got bacon, blueberry pancakes, and hash browns. Plenty for both of us," he said as he thought about the food and not the very light sweet smell that came from Jack's body.
Again, she didn't look at him or even speak. She moved the chair out and sat down, waited for Riddick to take what he wanted and then took some too. Blueberry pancakes were her favorite breakfast food and normally she could eat three or four in one sitting, but today only one pancake got dropped onto the plate.
Feeling his eyes on her she slowly started to eat. She was starving; she hadn't eaten anything since lunch the day before. But with the way she was feeling, she knew it was best not to eat too much.
Riddick chewed what he had in his mouth and then spoke quietly, "Going to give me the silent treatment forever?" He was given a somewhat dirty look as a response and smirked, "Well, that's a start."
Shaking her head, she grabbed her plate and started to stand. He sighed, "Jack. Stay." He looked up at her, "Please."
With a sigh she did as he asked. He rested his fork down against the plate and leaned back in the chair. "Like I said, I know you're pissed at me. I owe you an explanation and I'll give you one, but I just think that it's not something we should discuss while we eat." He looked at her before he picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite.
"I'm not pissed at you, okay?" quietly she spoke and took a small bite from her hash browns.
He looked at her, a little confused, "Then what's with the silent treatment and you wanting to leave the table when I made a small joke?"
Finally, she looked at him for a moment, only to look back down at her plate. "I'm just hurt."
It was at that moment that Riddick could see the sadness in her face and hear it in her voice. "I'm sorry," was the only thing he could think of to say.
She shrugged and picked at her food with her fork. "It's okay; I honestly waited for this day to come."
"What do you mean?" he asked and set his fork back down, no longer interested in the food.
"I've heard before that people get this itch when they are married. Granted, we aren't married, but if you think about it our situation is kind of like being married." Sighing she pushed her plate away, "After a while the people have an itch that they can't scratch with their spouse, so they start to grow apart."
He watched her as she couldn't even bring herself to look at him yet, "We aren't growing apart, Jack."
This time her head snapped up and she looked at him, "Then what do you call what's been going on?" she said crossing her arms over her chest and stared at him.
Riddick wasn't sure of an answer to her question, "I call it changing up the routine." As soon as he said it he wanted to smack his forehead.
"Changing up the routine?" she questioned, as her voice got a little higher. "Well to me, ignoring your so called best friend, breaking your promise to me to go see your girlfriend and to lie to me about where you are going is not changing up the routine." Now she was getting angry with him. Her arms, once crossed over her chest, were now on the table; the left hand came up into the air and pointed at him. "And if you think yelling at me when I offer you dinner is changing up the routine, then you can go screw yourself, Riddick." The last part came out as a yell as she stood up; knocking her chair into the cupboard behind her as she stormed out of the kitchen.
He didn't have time to think before he was out of his chair and went after her. "Jack, wait!" he called out as he entered the living room.
Her bedroom door hadn't slammed, so he looked towards the front of the house to where the screen door was wide open. He walked outside onto the porch and looked around; it was pouring down rain. Riddick sighed and pictured Jack running away from the house in the rain and started for the steps when he heard a noise from the side of the house.
"Jack?" he said softly as he turned the corner and saw her standing against the house.
Jack waved him off and turned her back to him, "I just need a minute." A sniffle ended her sentence.
Riddick didn't leave; instead he walked closer to her and leaned his shoulder against the wall like she did. "I didn't mean what I said about changing up the routine. It came out wrong," he said with a sigh. "I'm just a man, Jack. I'm not good at expressing myself or saying my feelings." He put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'm better at explaining myself through actions."
"No need to explain anything to me, Riddick. I'm just your roommate, nothing more," she said and used her sleeve to wipe her tears.
He walked around in front of her and lifted her chin with his finger. "I'm sorry I ignored you and yelled at you." His eyes were hidden behind his goggles, but he hoped she saw his honesty. Moving his eyes down to her lips he watched as they trembled a little. "I'm sorry I broke my promise to you and for lying," he whispered the last part as his thumb captured a tear from her cheek and wiped it off for her.
His tongue darted out and wet his lips when he saw her tongue do the same. For him, time seemed to stand still as he slowly leaned down and kissed her pink lips. The same lips he thought about everyday while he worked and every night while he dreamed.
Their first kiss was not something he had planned on, but like he said his actions worked better then his words.
To Be Continued...
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