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“What made you get this one?” I ask, looking up at him through my lashes.
He blinks, glancing away for a split second. “Um, for you.”
I sit back, puzzled. Did he get it because I write books? That’s kind of sweet. And permanent.
“For me?”
He rubs the back of his neck, shifting in his seat. “Yeah. For your story. You paused for a while before continuing your story; your life. You could have chosen to end it, but you didn’t. You knew you had more to say, to give. It represents those who are brave, those who fight every day to keep living. When I asked Mum what I should get, she sent me this. I couldn’t think of anything better to describe you. I’ve never met anyone who is as strong as you, who has faced what you have and still pulled through,” he declares, shrugging like he hasn’t just rocked my world.
I blink back tears, feeling my throat close. There were moments, many of them, where I wanted to end it all, but when I tried, my sister’s face would flash behind my eyes and I couldn’t. I had to live for her, for myself. She might have killed herself, but she didn’t do it intentionally. She did a stupid thing and it took her life.
I glance up from the tattoo and find myself lost in the depth of his hazel eyes. I can’t seem look away. He’s never gotten a tattoo for me before, but he’s done many things that have made me pause, take stock, and fall for him harder. Although, getting a tattoo to represent me beats everything else in comparison. It’s the sweetest, most thoughtful thing to do. And kind of romantic.
I clear my throat, breaking the spell he has me under. “I love it. Thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” he swears thickly.
I wonder if one day I’ll ever have the courage to tell him how I feel, or if I’ll be too chicken shit because I’m scared I’ll lose our friendship. Knowing my luck, by the time I do find the courage, he’ll be with someone else and I’ll never know if he feels the same way. I’m pretty positive he doesn’t. He sends so many mixed signals, I can never tell. I used to be good at this stuff—boys. I could tell what they were thinking and if they were really into a girl or just wanted a quick lay. Now I’m so far out of my depth it’s not even funny.
“So, there’s something I need to?”
“Banner, hey, you’re back from footy.”
My hands automatically go under the table and into my lap, my fingers entwining around each other with nerves. The girl walking over to us is beautiful, stunningly so. She’s everything I’m not. I’ve not even met her and already I’m jealous. She’s confident, sexy, and has more chance to get with Banner than I do.
I glance over at him to gauge his reaction. His jaw is clenched, seeming annoyed by her appearance.
“Fi, how’s it going?”
She bounces to a stop at our table, and for the first time I notice the apron around her waist and notepad in hand.
“It’s going great. Dad made me work today. Someone called in sick. Did you want to meet up after I finish?” she asks sweetly, batting her lashes.
I inwardly cringe, ducking down in my chair to make myself invisible.
Why now? Why when I’m with him with no choice but to witness it? It’s humiliating.
“I’m sorry, Fi, but I told you: I don’t date any of my team’s exes.”
She cocks her hip to the side, her smile forced now. “Nobody likes Alec after what he did to his ex-girlfriend. No one would judge you for going out with me.”
Who is Alec and why have I never heard of him? He speaks of all his team mates so I’m not sure why he’s never mentioned him before.
And she’s asked him out before and he’s said no? But she’s still trying? I don’t know whether to stare in awe or embarrassment.
Awkward.
“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you. You’re a sweet girl, but I’m really not interested. I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”
Her eyes fill with tears, but she nods, her back straightening. “I can live with that. Thank you for being honest.” He gives her a small smile, his eyes flicking to me and wincing. She follows his line of sight and flinches. “I’m so sorry. Are you here on a date?”
I shake my head, wanting her to calm down. She seems ready to bolt, and I need food. “No, you’re fine. We’re just friends.”
Banner noticeably grimaces at the word, puzzling me, but I shake it off, not wanting to read too much into it.
“Oh, good. But still, I’m sorry. I get a little struck when I see hot guys. I forget about anyone else who is around. I’m truly sorry.”
I smile at her bubbliness. I no longer hate her. She’s actually kind of refreshing and nothing like the girl I imagined she would be. And I thought she’d be shallow, big-headed, and stuck up. I guess you really shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.
