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Silence, and then she mumbles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I didn’t mean it like that . . . I just—”
“No, I got it. It won’t happen again,” she says, softly pushing at my chest to get me to back up. I do, and she slides off the desk, quickly adjusting her dress. “We’ve already missed our reservation. I hope you have a backup.”
The next few moments happen in slow motion. Braxton collects her purse, flattens her hair, and then brushes past me on her way out of the office, not even checking if I’m behind her.
It’s not until she’s saying goodbye to her co-workers that I make it back to her side, grabbing her hand and refusing to let her get away. She lets me lead her outside in silence, but I only make it to my truck before breaking.
“I have no idea what I’m doing here,” I admit.
Sighing, she turns to face me. “What do you mean?”
“This.” I wave between us. “You and me. God damn, Braxton. It’s been eight years, and I still can’t keep myself in check when I’m around you. What happened back there was a prime example of that. I mean, come on. Look at you. You look fucking amazing, and I just needed . . . I needed to touch you, feel you. You drive me utterly insane. And when I said the kiss wasn’t right, it wasn’t because it didn’t feel like it. I said it because that’s not what we should be doing right now. Kissing like that? That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
She leans her back to the passenger door and stares at the concrete. I want her eyes on me, and frustration bubbles when she refuses to look up. Still, I listen to her next words intently, trying to dissect each one as it comes.
“I feel like we just keep going in circles. Hot and cold. Yes and no. You haven’t forgiven me for everything in the past, and that’s something I just have to accept, but I can’t turn it off as easily as you can. I thought I would be able to handle seeing you and being with you like this, but I feel like a teenager all over again. I don’t want to be the girl who falls for the guy who won’t give her what she wants again. And I’m wise enough now to know I’ve stumbled down that same path. I have to turn around before I get lost, and that means we need boundaries. Clear-cut ones.”
I fist my hands in my pockets and frown. “What are you talking about? I wanted to give youeverything. You’re the one who didn’t want that. You never gave me any clear idea that you wanted what I wanted until suddenly, everything was going to shit, and you were begging me not to tell the world about your father. I thought I was pretty damn obvious with my feelings.”
“If you wanted me as much as you think you did, then why didn’t you make a move? I loved you so much back then, and all I wanted was to be yours. Not just Maddox Hutton’s best friend. But after years of friendship, I assumed that maybe I was misreading you.”
“Misread me? Braxton, I have a tatt—”
She shakes her head and interrupts me. “Please, let me finish.”
I close my mouth and nod stiffly.
“When you got drafted to Florida, I panicked. Then my father brought up the idea of you not signing with them, and I made a rash decision. The wrong one. I thought that maybe if you just stayed a bit longer that you would finally tell me how you felt, and then after you got redrafted, we would be a couple, and I could just find a school wherever you wound up.
“When we were seventeen, I told you that I couldn’t chase you, but my idea of my future changed so quickly I couldn’t keep up. And then suddenly, I was eighteen and rash and desperate. Definitely a bit toxic. If I could go back, I would do everything differently. I wouldn’t have sided with my dad, and I would have made the first move. But that’s not what happened, and I need you to forgive me and move forward, or I don’t know if I can do this.”
She lifts her head and finds my waiting eyes. “I’ve lived with a mountain of guilt and pain for nearly a decade. Please don’t make me carry it any longer. I can’t take seeing that hate in your eyes every single day for the next few months. If you can’t put it all behind us, then we need to make peace with going our own ways for real this time.”
22
MADDOX
AGE EIGHTEEN
Braxton opensher front door and lets me inside before pulling me in for a hug. I accept the affection eagerly, and when she pulls away, I kiss her cheek and slip my shoes off.
She has her glasses on today—a thick-rimmed, rounded pair she wears for reading—and her hair is pulled up into some messy-ass ball on the top of her head. I poke her nose and grin.
Even in a pair of baggy sweatpants and one of my sweatshirts, she manages to take my breath away.
“You look cute,” I say.
She swats my hand away from her face and rolls her eyes. “I was filling out university applications, not dressing to impress.”
Braxton’s sudden decision to wait a year after graduation to go to university instead of going this fall was a big one, and while she tries to deny it, I know it was because she was waiting to see where I ended up being drafted first. I did everything I could to convince her not to risk her future for me, but she was dead set on it, and one can only fight for something so hard before giving in, especially when the idea of her wanting to wait for me is selfishly everything I’ve ever wanted to hear.
“Who said you didn’t impress me?” I tease.
“Well, did I, then?” She spins in a circle, her arms flailing at her sides. When she comes to a stop, she cocks a brow at me.
“Always, Curly Fry.”
