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I see her visibly swallow. Fuck. Did she really take it as I was going to break up with her? All because she didn’t hear the rest of what I said?
This is so fucked up.
“I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “I took off back to my parents’ house. I didn’t hear the rest.”
I sigh and run my hand through my hair. Just at the least opportune time, we both glance at a kid who comes up to our table with a pen and a napkin.
“Hey, buddy.” I clear my throat and try to smile.
The kid is nervous as hell. “Hey, Taylor… umm… can I get your autograph?”
I purse my lips and nod, because I never deny fans what they want… especially kids.
“Sure.” I nod for him to come closer so I can grab the pen and napkin off him.
“You sure did great the other night with that slip shot into the back of the net.” I eye him, noticing Emmerson is sitting very still opposite me, watching the exchange.
“Thanks, bud.” I sign it and hand it back to him.
He beams up at me. “Good luck tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
He scuttles back off toward the back of the restaurant where his family are looking over with smiling faces. I give them a smile and raise my drink slightly.
My eyes divert back to her. She’s looking at me, bewildered.
And I know it’s not all entirely from the autograph thing.
“Does that happen much?” she whispers.
“Yup.”
“Do you get sick of it?”
I shake my head. “I never let my ego get ahead of me. I don’t think that would be a smart thing,” I say honestly. “Anyway… back to what we were saying… besides the conversation you overheard, what happened with you and my Mom?”
She sips her wine carefully. The atmosphere around us has grown tense very quickly.
I don’t like it, but I need it out in the open so I know what I’m dealing with here.
I need to know the truth.
“I don’t like telling tales about your Mom,” she says quietly.
“Oh, trust me… I think I know what you’re going to say… in fact, let me say it for you. She put you up to it, didn’t she?”
She looks across at me with those wide green eyes, her eyebrows slightly raised. A pink flush comes across her cheeks from this intense discussion.
I watch her lips briefly, knowing I shouldn’t, but I can’t freaking help it.
They’re so soft, plump and juicy….
“She did have things to say about you and I, yes,” she says finally, not putting her glass of wine back on the table. It’s like she’s sipping it slowly for moral support.
“Such as?” I prompt, starting to feel annoyed I have to keep fucking asking.
“Such as you’d been talking about breaking up, and you didn’t know how to do it or something, that you didn't want to break my heart. And she thought I shouldn’t hold you back, so I should be the one to break up.”
