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It’s so damn tempting to slide from the booth, scoop her up into my arms, and carry her ass out of the restaurant, but there’s more that needs to be hashed out between us before that can occur.
My grip tightens around her fingers as my eyes probe hers, sifting through the disbelief. She needs to understand just how serious I am.
This matters.
She matters.
“You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted, Fallyn. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember. How could I think about screwing another girl when none of them were you?”
That question hangs heavily in the air.
“Your parents wouldn’t allow you to date until you were sixteen. So, I waited. I wanted to ask you on your birthday but...”
Grief flashes across her face. “The accident.”
“Yeah.” I can only imagine that the very same expression is etched across mine. Fallyn turned sixteen a month after her brother died.
When she leans closer, it feels as if we’re both straining toward each other. Like two magnets intent on being together.
“You’ve really never had sex?” Confusion flickers across her face as her voice dips to a whisper. “Like ever?”
“I tried to fool around with a couple of groupies freshman year, but it didn’t feel right.” Memories flash through my brain. “It was awkward. Every time I closed my eyes, you were the one I imagined. But none of them smelled or felt like you. Their lips weren’t plush like yours. So, I didn’t bother. I focused on school and hockey.” Before I can stop myself, I blurt, “And you.”
She tucks an errant lock of hair behind her ear. “Me? What do you mean?”
I jerk my shoulders, not wanting to come off like a stalker.
Although…
Maybe that’s exactly what I am.
Even when I thought Fallyn was lost to me, there was only ever her.
“I kept tabs on you. When you were in the hospital and then when you started at the new high school. I knew a few guys who played hockey there, and they watched out for you. Made sure no one gave you problems.”
I examine her face for clues as to what she’s thinking. The last thing I want to do is creep her out.
“You did?”
“Yeah.”
When I squeeze her fingers, she glances down and stares at them for a long, silent moment. With every heartbeat, the tension ratchets up until there’s a good possibility I’ll choke on it.
Nerves get the best of me. “Fallyn?”
“I just can’t believe all of this,” she whispers before chewing her lower lip. “Were you serious when you said that my parents wouldn’t allow you to see me? When I asked them, they said you didn’t bother reaching out.” Her voice thickens with unspent emotion. “That it was Miles you were friends with, not me.”
Anger rushes through my veins. It takes effort to keep my voice level, but it still comes out sounding like a feral growl. “I always cared about you. I was friends with you just as much as I was with Miles.”
Her shoulders fall forward as if there is a thousand-pound weight forcing them down. “I don’t know what to believe. I hate the idea that they might have lied to me.” Her voice dips. “That they kept you away on purpose. Especially when I needed you more than anything else.”
My heart twists beneath my ribcage. I hate that I wasn’t there for her and couldn’t help her to heal.
“But I also realize how much they blamed you. And your family. It’s consumed them this entire time.”
Unable to help myself, I scoot from the booth. Two long-legged steps are all it takes to bring me around to her side. Her wide blue eyes track my every movement as she stares up at me. Before she can ask what I’m doing, I slide onto the seat and gather her up into my arms. I can’t stand the physical distance for another second and need her close. I wasn’t able to be there for her after the accident, but I’m here now.
It's a relief when she doesn’t shove me away. “I’m sorry, angel. So fucking sorry. I should have fought harder.” But I’d been sixteen years old and lost in my own despair. My parents had agreed that giving the DiMarco family space to grieve was the right thing to do.
