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She shoots me a timid smile when I ask her if she wants seconds and then shakes her head.
“I’m really full, actually.”
“You can take it home then.”
It hits me all of a sudden how much I wish I could take care of her. How easy it would be for me to swoop into her life and solve so many of her problems. I tried to do it the other night. I asked her to let me help, and it didn’t end well. I doubt she would have even let me buy her dinner except for the fact that we’re technically sharing.
“Sure you don’t want the leftovers?” she asks me.
It annoys me that she’s not more concerned with herself. She shouldn’t be so willing to give her food away.
“No. I’ll have them package it up for you along with more of that bread.”
Her cheeks flush.
“I just loved the dipping sauce,” she says, as if she needs to explain why she went back for so many slices.
I excuse myself to use the bathroom and intercept our waiter on the way so I can ask him to package up two new meals for her to take home since there wasn’t much leftovers. It kills me that this is the extent of my power. Short of breaking laws or outright slipping cash into her purse, there’s not much I can do to offer Raelynn a helping hand without her cooperation. I had my assistant look into nursing homes in the area. There are a few, but it wasn’t hard to pin down where Raelynn’s grandmother stays. My assistant gave me the number two days ago, and I called and asked to be connected to billing. I acted like I was just an inquiring relative, wondering about facility costs. They said there are bills overdue on Raelynn’s grandmother’s account.
I haven’t decided what I’ll do about that now that I know.
I can’t imagine how angry Raelynn would be if she knew I was snooping around, especially after the other night.
I return from the bathroom to find Anthony in my seat, chatting with Raelynn. She’s smiling from ear to ear, happy and at ease with him in a way she’s never fully been around me. I wish I could fix that, but it’s not something I can turn off—the tension between us. The heat. It’s there and we’ve tried to ignore it, but tonight I couldn’t help myself. I wanted her near me, touching me. She kept her hands to herself save for the few moments she had one on my chair. I wanted her to take it a step further, to skate her hand up my thigh and squeeze, lay claim in a way I’d have to act on. She didn’t though. She’s kept herself in check, and I’m envious she still can. I’m long past the point of pretending.
I walk over to reclaim my seat, and Raelynn’s gaze finds mine. Her smile stays in place, but her eyes turn thoughtful, assessing, wary with every step I take toward her. She’s on high alert as I round the back of her chair. It’s not as if I can take my seat; Anthony’s still there. He’s talking to her, telling her the story of when a fan threw a bra at him mid-game as I stand behind her with my hands on the back of her chair. She leans back and her shoulder blades brush my knuckles. I stay frozen for just long enough to let her settle, and then I curve my hand up around the base of her neck so my thumb runs along her upper spine and my palm rests against her pulse. It’s nothing. Barely enough to warrant a second glance from anyone at the table. The only reason it draws any curiosity at all is the fact that none of my teammates have seen me with a woman since Shelby. I’m sure they’re wondering what I’m doing with Raelynn, how far I’ll take this considering the shitstorm I’ve been dealing with for the last few months.
I don’t care about any of that.
I’m focused on Raelynn’s reaction, waiting for her to ease away from me and withdraw.
She earns her nickname, Little Bird. She feels so fragile in my hand, tiny.
She stays perfectly still as I touch her, her attention still on Anthony as he laughs. She laughs along with him, though I think she’s just following his lead. I doubt she’s following along with his story very well, not with me touching her.
“Want your seat back?” Anthony asks, pulling my attention away from her hair. I was watching the lights dance across the blonde strands.
“Raelynn can share with me.”
I can’t help myself. She’s given me an inch, and I want a mile.
I’m expecting her to laugh it off and tell me to find my own seat, but she just shrugs and stands. “It’s fine. You can just have it.”
