She shrugs, one hand holding onto her elbow. “My last boyfriend broke up with me because I was too tall.”
“That’s bullshit,” I say, as anger warms my insides. What a dick. Who would throw away a girl as amazing as Clarissa just because she was a little taller than average? I walk closer to her, standing tall, until I’m just a few inches away and have to look down on her. I pat the top of her head. “You look pretty short to me.”
She grins and looks down. “I think I was just so happy to have connected with you, that when you hurt me, I tried to connect with someone else as soon as possible.” She exhales. “It did not work. It was stupid.”
“I’m really sorry for everything,” I say softly, wishing I could be wrapped in one of her hugs again. Instead, I settle for reaching out and letting my fingers graze her arm. “I had a connection with you, too. Before I ruined it all, you were very special to me.”
Clarissa’s jaw shivers as she looks up at me. “You’re too cold,” I say. “You should get back home and warm up. I don’t want you getting sick.”
She shakes her head. “I’m fine. Plus,” She holds up her finger. “Wait here, I brought something.”
She rushes back to her truck and then comes back with two cups from the Lone Star Diner. “It’s not as good as Mrs. Bradley’s homemade hot chocolate, but it’s still pretty good.”
Steam rises from the lid as she hands one to me.
“You just happened to have two hot chocolates in your truck?”
“It’s my grandpa’s truck,” she says, followed by, “And well, I thought you might be here after you didn’t answer my text.”
“You texted me?” My heart races at the thought. I’ve spent all night out here alone thinking she wasn’t thinking about me at all. “My phone has been in my truck so I wouldn’t break it around all these tools. What’d you say?”
“Nothing,” she says. “Just wanted to talk. When you didn’t answer, I came to find you.”
“What do you want to talk about?” I ask. I cradle the Styrofoam cup in my hands, letting the steam rise up and warm my face.
“Well…” She’s shivering so much she can barely talk.
“Hold that thought,” I say. I pull open my passenger door. “Get in.”
Then I climb into my side and crank the engine, turning up the heater. This truck has one hell of a heater, and within seconds, the cab starts warming up.
“Mmm,” she says, leaning her face toward the air vent. “This is much better. Grandpa’s heater sucks. I was halfway here before it started getting even a little warm.”
I try not to be so stupid-eyed as I watch her, but it’s hard because I’m totally crazy about this girl. “Not to be pushy, but you were about to say something.”
She smiles, her eyes closed while the hot air warms her face. “I’m sorry about the trouble you have at home, with your dad and everything. I had no idea.”
“No one does,” I say. “I keep that shit locked up tight.”
She looks over at me with sorrow in her eyes. “I’ve been thinking about what happened, and I don’t really blame you. If I were you, I think I would have lied too. I mean…we had this amazing date and—” She takes a breath and I am on the edge of my seat dying to hear what she’ll say next. “I mean, it’s not like you could have told me right there on the beach. I know I wouldn’t have. And…it’s not like you destroyed my greenhouse knowing it was mine.”
She turns a sharp look toward me. “I don’t condone senseless violence, though.”
I bark out a laugh. “Trust me, I don’t either. I can’t believe I did that. I’veneverdone anything like that.”
She sips from her hot chocolate, and I watch her. Now that she’s here in my truck with me, all I can do is watch her, grateful for every second of time she gives me.
“My grandmother used to work at the daycare,” she says after a while. “That greenhouse was her passion project. We have lots of photos of her with the greenhouse, showing flowers and plants to the kids. She actually died a long time ago, so I never knew her, but when I started working at the daycare, Grandpa told me about it.”
A knot tightens in my stomach. Shit.
She glances at me briefly before looking back at the cup in her hands. “I asked Mrs. Bradley if I could fix the old greenhouse and make it new again so I could give the kids a greenhouse just like my grandma did. I spent all summer building it with my grandpa.”
“Shit, Clarissa,” I breathe. “I’m so sorry. I feel like such an ass.”
A small grin plays on her lips. “Then you won’t want to hear this next part.”
I stiffen. Her eyes are pained, her knuckles white as she grips her cup. “Grandpa has glaucoma and he’s been slowly going blind. That greenhouse is the last project he ever made, and it was our project that we did together. So…I know it belongs to the daycare, but it’s really my greenhouse. It means the world to me.”
