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I went up to check, and sure enough, she ate the food.
I didn’t push.
The closest I came to pushing was dropping off coffee with my own knock at the door. She always drank that too.
Then, eventually, I would have no choice but to crash after taking the dogs for walks. She would come fetch them when she thought I was out, taking them for another walk, before taking a shower and going to bed as well.
I was trying to be patient with her.
I understood that all this shit was new to her.
That said, though, it was new to me too.
The way I couldn’t fucking stop thinking about her, how I had to actually hold myself back from charging up there and demanding we talk this shit out.
Talk it out.
I wasn’t a ‘talk it out’ kind of guy.
And I was never a ‘can’t stop thinking about this one woman’ type of guy either.
But here I was.
Sitting alone out back while Samantha and Miranda chased bird shadows across the ground, trying to keep myself from charging up there and demanding to know what was going on in her head, ask if she was having these strange feelings like I was.
“Seems like you need it,” Coach said, dropping down beside me on the picnic table as he handed me a beer, already sweating in the heat of the day.
“Thanks,” I said, exhaling hard, then taking a long swig.
“That girl got you all twisted up, yeah?” he asked, holding his own beer, but not drinking it.
“Something like that,” I agreed.
“I haven’t been around long, but I’m getting the feeling that you aren’t exactly used to women who get in and put down roots, start vining all over you.”
That was an… interesting way to put it. But that was Coach for you.
“Women have always been a good time for me.”
“But not a long time for you.”
“Yeah, something like that,” I agreed.
“So what happened with that pretty girl up there?” he asked, nodding his chin toward the building.
“I don’t know. She’s shutting me out,” I admitted. Because I needed to talk to someone. And I knew Slash would be pissed that things got physical before the job was done. Crow and Judge were busy with their own women. And Detroit would probably figure I’d fucked up in some way, and needed to make up for it.
The thing was, that wasn’t the case.
At least, I was reasonably sure it wasn’t.
I hadn’t done or said anything.
She’s just… frozen up on me.
“I can’t claim to know her well,” Coach started. “But I get the feeling that she’s not used to having anyone.”
“No, she’s all alone in the world,” I said. “Aside from the dogs.”
“And maybe she’s a good judge of character…”
“What does that mean?” I asked, though, yeah, I could kind of infer what he was saying.
“I mean that everything about you says that you don’t do serious. So maybe, in an attempt to protect herself, she’s shutting you out before you can shut her out.”
That did seem like something she would do.
“That’s not how it is,” I said, shaking my head. “Not for me, not this time.”
“And you’re sitting here telling me that, why?” he asked, giving me a raised brow look.
“You have a point,” I agreed, taking another swig of my beer. “But she doesn’t even want to see me right now. Leaves before I get up, comes in after I pass out…”
“This might seem like a radical idea,” he said, tone dry, smirk teasing. “But you could ask her if she will talk to you. Hash your shit out. Figure out where things stand.”
“Listen, you don’t have to be such a rational fucking adult about it,” I said, chuckling a bit. The smile fell fast, though. “I don’t know what to say,” I admitted. “And I don’t think she’ll give me a second chance if I fuck it up the first time.”
“I figure it’s possible she’s feeling just as unsure of herself, so being real with her about this shit is the smartest route.”
“I don’t even know what to tell her, though,” I admitted. I was so lost. I’d never worried about what to say to a woman. I’d grown up around so many of them, and that comfort with the opposite sex never went away. But, I guess, I’d never needed to talk about my feelings to one before. Because I’d never had them.
“You like her, right?”
“Yeah, I like her.”
“I figure you start there,” Coach said, climbing off the table, and walking over toward where Morgaine was tinkering in her garden, picking up a shovel like she was about to dig a hole, something Coach clearly didn’t think she should be doing while pregnant, so he took it from her, and did it himself.
Taking a deep breath, I climbed off the table, finished my beer, called in the dogs, and made my way upstairs.
