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You, Chase, are an asshole.“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
I don’t know why I got hurt when she didn’t respond. Maybe because my guard’s been slipping with her? Maybe what I really am is frustrated with myself because I checked my phone every five minutes after I sent that text to her.
“I like that you care if I respond,” she says in a quiet voice, and we lock eyes.
I’m not sure what to make of her confession.
“I should check on the food.” I stand abruptly and walk over to the grill, lifting the lid.
While I move the veggies around, I can’t help but wonder what Miles would think if he knew she was here with me. Would he be pissed about it? Do I even care? I do on some level—he’s my teammate and friend. It’s bad for the locker room if I piss him off and we end up at odds. But he should see by now that Twyla is an adult and can make her own decisions. Besides, it’s not like we’re doing anything other than sharing a meal. It’s not like her leggings are around her ankles and I have her bent over the balcony, drilling into her from behind.
Fuck. Now that visual will be stuck in my head for the rest of the night.
I finish what I’m doing and rejoin her at the table. She’s staring out at my view of the city.
“Do you mind if I grab myself some water?” she asks.
“Shit. Sorry, I didn’t even ask if you wanted a drink.” I push away from the table while she stands.
“Sit. Relax, I can get it. You’ve worked hard all day and all I’ve done is hang out with cats.” She chuckles. “Want anything?”
I shake my head. “I’m good.”
She returns a few moments later and sits across from me with a bottle of water. I like that she’s gotten comfortable in my space so quickly, but I’m not sure what that means either. Usually I hate people around my things. Even during poker nights, I hide shit and lock my bedroom door so nobody gets nosy.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” She unscrews the cap off the bottle.
“Why is Miles so overprotective of you?”
There’s a slight dip to the smile on her face. She doesn’t lose it totally, but it’s obvious that whatever she’s remembering isn’t a good memory.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
She takes a small sip from her water and puts the cap back on. “You just caught me off guard. I can talk about it.” She sits up a little straighter in her chair. “When I was seven, I got spinal meningitis. I was really sick, and at one point, the doctors told my parents they couldn’t do much more for me and they’d just have to wait and see whether I was strong enough to fight through it with all the medications they’d already given me.”
I clear my throat. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Honestly, I don’t remember a lot about when I was sick. But I know it was pretty hard for the rest of my family.”
I nod. “It makes sense why they all look out for you so much.”
She rolls her eyes playfully. “Yeah, I mean, that started it, but when I went back to school, a lot of the kids were mean to me. Pretended they didn’t want to be near me because they were afraid they’d catch what I’d had.”
I glower at her. “Are you serious?”
She nods and brings the bottle of water to her lips. “Yep. That’s what really started my brother on his crusade to make sure no one ever makes me sad. I used to cry on the bus on the way home and after school. After a few times, he put the kids in their place by starting a fight. The kids ran away and he’s been my protector ever since.”
Now I understand why Miles is such a crazy big brother, protecting her at every turn. If I think back to how I felt an hour ago, wanting to rip her ex limb from limb just because he’d texted her, I don’t know what I’d want to do to someone who was purposely cruel to her.
“Does it ever bother you how he acts?”
She moves her head from side to side. “Sometimes. Mostly I try to remember how lucky I am to have someone in my life who cares about me so much. Not everyone is lucky enough to have that.”
Always glass half-full with this woman.
“It’s good that you see it that way, I guess.” I push back from the table to check on the food. “Five more minutes and we should be good to eat,” I yell over my shoulder, but she’s walking my way. “Sorry for screaming.”
