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She held onto the book, tucking it underneath her arm instead of putting it back on the shelf.
“I'm not ashamed, it's just not what men in my family do.” I shrugged. “We're not supposed to be in touch with our emotional side. We're supposed to tuck feelings down deep inside and be stoic. After all, I come from a long line of football players. Tough guys. That's who everyone expects me to be, so it's who I pretend to be.”
“But you don't have to pretend to be someone you're not,” she said, her lips curling up into a soft smile. “Especially now. High school is long over. We're adults now and are free to be who we want to be. If writing makes you happy, write. Don't even think twice about what anyone else has to say.”
“What if I told you that being here with you makes me happy?” I said.
Color rushed to her cheeks as she stared down at the floor. “Listen, Quinn – ” she started to say, but I kissed her before she could say another word.
Her lips tasted minty, and they tingled as they touched mine. They were so soft and luscious, they felt amazing and I got lost in the moment, slipping my tongue into her mouth. As soon as our tongues touched though, she gasped and pulled away from me, stumbling backward and nearly falling over, a look of absolute shock and mortification on her face.
I caught her arm. “Careful now,” I laughed. “I didn't mean to knock you off your feet there.”
She avoided my gaze and muttered something so low, I couldn't make out what she'd said.
“What was that?” I asked.
“I have to go,” she said, her face bright red.
She still had the book under her arm as she rushed toward the front of the bookstore.
“Hailey,” I called out, following her.
I caught up with her and grabbed her hand, but she yanked it away from me and kept walking with her head down, a bright red burn in her cheeks.
“Hailey, stop,” I said. “Please, just talk to me. What happened?”
She almost walked right out the door with the poetry book in hand, but then stopped, staring at it as if she couldn't decide what to do with it. She looked toward the counter and over to Mrs. Elwood.
“Can I come back for this later?” she asked, handing the book over to the older woman.
“Sure, darling,” Mrs. Elwood said with a polite smile. “I'll hold on to it for you.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Hailey quickly turned and pushed open the glass door, rushing out into the afternoon sunlight. I was on her heels though, and wasn't about to let her leave like that. I needed to apologize and get some answers from her. I'd thought I was getting some signals from her. But judging by her reaction, she'd either changed her mind or I'd read them all wrong from the start.
“Hailey, I'm really sorry,” I said. “I thought you liked me like that. I guess I misread the signals and –”
She stopped suddenly on the sidewalk, then turned to face me. “I do like you that way, Quinn,” she said, resignation and frustration in her town. “And that's the problem. I can't right now. I just can't.”
“Why not?”
“Because my life is too complicated as it is,” she said. “I came back to Black Oak because I need to be alone for a while to figure some shit out, and to get my head straight.”
“Let me help you, Hailey,” I said.
I reached for her hand again, and this time she didn't pull it away. Her eyes welled up with tears and her hands were shaking as she opened her mouth to speak, but then she closed it again without saying a word. She kept looking around her, almost like she expected to find somebody standing there watching her, and she curled her arms into herself protectively, holding them close to her body like she'd done last night at the bonfire.
The way she was standing there made me think she was scared of something. Or maybe somebody. It struck a nerve and ignited a protective instinct in my gut.
“Hailey, what's going on?” I asked, stepping closer and fighting the urge to wrap my arms around her, knowing that wouldn't go
over very well.
She stepped back and pushed the sleeves of her sweatshirt up a bit, and that's when I saw the bruise on her wrist. Like someone had grabbed her too hard and restrained her. She caught me staring and pulled the sleeve back down, covering it once more. Hiding away what was obviously causing her a lot of emotional pain.
“Did someone do that to you?” I asked her, motioning toward her wrist. I felt a vein in my temple begin to throb.
