I was afraid this line of questioning would’ve been too close of a reminder of her brother again and I didn’t want to upset her. She took her time answering while I sipped my beer.
“Maybe.” She dipped her chin in a way that showed her vulnerability and it was so appealing. “I’ve always been a helper sort of person.”
“I could totally see that,” I said. She had this soothing way about her, but she took charge, too. Like you could’ve gutted yourself right in front of her and she’d have taken the time to clean your wounds and stitch you back together.
“In high school, Avery joked that I must’ve had a sign on my forehead that read the doctor is in.” When she laughed it was like I could see straight inside her soul. Like in that singular moment I knew her better than anyone else, even though I knew how wrong I was. But, damn, I wanted to know her. “Everybody seemed to come to me with their boyfriend troubles or whatever.”
“So you were like one of those Peanuts cartoons?”
“Lucy, you mean? How she sets up her table and chair?” She twisted her lip, as if picturing it. “Yeah, pretty much. Too bad I can’t take my own advice on relationships.”
There was so much emotion behind those words I wondered exactly who she was referring to. If it ran deeper than just her last asshole boyfriend.
“Did you know about Joel, too?” she asked, the words bursting forth with no warning. She bowed her head as pink crept up her cheeks. “That he was with other girls?”
And suddenly I understood why she’d been pulling away from me. Maybe she didn’t trust herself anymore—or anyone else, for that matter. I hoped I could help her change that. I wanted her to trust me. For us to trust our feelings for each other.
Because I wouldn’t hurt her. If anything, I’d be the one wounded, damaged, abandoned—but maybe that was the chance I was willing to take.
“I . . . had my suspicions,” I said, working to keep my lips in a straight line. I wanted to keep my head. I didn’t want her to see how entirely pissed off I was at Joel for making her feel that way. “Damn it. I’m sorry, Ella.”
“Is that why it seemed like you wanted to pound him all the time?” she asked, taking a sip of her soda. A hint of frustration flitted through her eyes. Guess she knew after all.
“Pretty much,” I said. “He’s an asshole, Ella. You deserved better.”
“I’m not sure if I know what better is anymore,” she said, her mouth turning down in a frown. “So I’m just it taking one day at a time.”
I nodded and took a bite of my bread, even though it seemed to lodge in the back of my throat. That was Ella’s way of telling me that she wasn’t sure about me or even about us. So I needed to ask myself if I was up for the challenge. Was I finally ready to let somebody in? Even if it meant she might not want to stick around?
“So, how about you?” she asked suddenly, changing the subject. “Have you always played baseball?”
“I’ve played for a long time,” I said, careful with how much I revealed, because a large portion of my baseball life involved Sebastian. “Started in Little League and then moved up from there.”
“So, your parents come to games to cheer you on?” She looked away as if her question wasn’t a loaded one. But I understood her curiosity. Maybe stuff I’d said at her family dinner didn’t sit well with her. My family was different from hers and she wanted to know more. To understand.
“Sometimes. More my mom than my dad,” I said. I didn’t tell her that my dad never really came, and that my mom was more of a chauffeur in my younger years. But my aunt and uncle came and Sebastian’s parents always encouraged me and cheered me on.
“My best friend and I would practice throwing a tennis ball for hours sometimes—against the brick wall at the park so it would bounce back into our baseball gloves. Or even across our backyards,” I said before I realized it had slipped out. It was hard not to associate baseball with Sebastian.
Her eyebrows quirked up. “Does your best friend play for TSU, too?”
“No, he doesn’t,” I said.
And then I was saved by the server delivering our pizza to the table. I dug right in and kept my mouth full so I didn’t have to answer anymore Sebastian questions.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ella
Quinn was as closed off as ever about his family and his past. He looked so uncomfortable whenever I asked him simple questions. He was holding on to something so tightly that seeing him struggle was a bit unsettling.
So we stuck to less threatening topics, like school, movies, music, and of course, video games. That was the place where we could find our middle ground. It centered us, in a way. Made us feel connected despite it all being make-believe.
What wasn’t make-believe, however, was our attraction to each other. Every time he shifted beneath the table, goose bumps whispered a trail straight to my epicenter.
After we finished eating and Quinn walked me outside, he said, “Can I drive you back to your car?” I was parked in the library lot, but it was still light out, so I could easily walk back by myself.
When he saw my hesitation he said, “Or I could walk you back.”
He looked so young and vulnerable right then that there was no way I could resist him. Besides, I knew that I wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.
After I’d learned about Joel’s cheating, I’d definitely taken two steps back. I’d decided that living in the gray was better than living with the knowledge that you were only a joke to your boyfriend and to maybe everyone else around him. I obviously wasn’t a good judge of character, so I’d just play along and get some of my physical needs met in the process.
My anger had built a protective wall around me, at least for now. And maybe I needed to take it slow, make sure I fully trusted somebody. Unlike last time. I didn’t know what Quinn wanted from me, but for now, I was fine with just living in the moment. Having some fun.
“Hmmm, I don’t know,” I joked. “It might take the same amount of time to walk to my car as it would to get to yours, parked over there in the boonies.”
“Smart-ass.” He swept me up in his arms, momentarily lifting me off the ground like he’d done at his parents’ house. It seemed so natural that when I felt him temporarily waver, I tugged his arms more securely around me.
I felt his breaths against my hair and the hard wall of his chest. His heart rate had picked up speed and seemed to match mine beat for beat.
He released his hold and then grabbed my hand as he walked briskly toward his car, like he was on a mission. Fury was parked in the last row of the back lot, taking up two spaces, as usual.
When we got to the passenger-side door, his eyes fastened on mine with such concentration that I couldn’t look away. His expression morphed into something deliberate, something that eased all the doubts I had locked up about him inside of me.
His head sloped to the side, his lips only a whisper away, and his gaze was so penetrating it seemed to devour me whole, beneath all the layers of my skin.
He was a living and breathing paradox. Laid-back and innocent just a moment ago and now so intense it left me defenseless, threatened to steal every last piece of my heart.
When his fingers grazed my jaw, I could barely catch my breath. I closed my eyes against the vulnerability I felt in this perfectly scripted moment.
His lips brushed mine so gently, in such contrast to the way he’d moved his mouth against me last time that I was momentarily transported somewhere else—maybe to the stars. There was something in his kiss. Something his lips were trying to communicate to me that maybe they couldn’t—wouldn’t—before.