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He had lied to her.
“I’m so sorry, Jason. So, so sorry. I—”
“No. Don’t apologize. I’m sorry you believed him then, and I’m angry because you were hurt. But you need to believe me now. I love you.”
Her eyes flash to mine. “Loved? You loved me like I loved you.”
I never stopped loving her, even when I wanted to hate her. My pretty girl has simply owned my heart all along.
“What about me?” I didn’t mean to step up the second after the pretty girl turned Cole down. But my thoughts were voiced before I knew what I was doing.
I may have been used to throwing a ball in the spotlight, but at fifteen, I wasn’t as confident off the field.
The guys looked at me. Cole stood up, offense defining his face.
The girls turned around and stared at me, except for Delilah Noelle, who smiled when she looked my way. “We barely know each other, Jason.”
She had cheered for me for years, but for some reason, hearing her say my name that day was different. It was personal and made my throat thick, causing me to clear it before speaking again. “I’d like to get to know you.”
With the tilt of her head, she swung her ponytail to the side. “I’d like to get to know you, too.”
That was the last day I walked home with the guys after school. Starting the next day, I walked two miles out of my way after our practices just to carry Delilah’s backpack home for her. I got my truck three months later and started driving her and her sister.
I think I loved her from the minute we saw each other, and by the end of that school year, I wanted her for my forever.
“No, Delilah. I love you. Present tense. Hearts and flowers. Kisses over morning coffee and poetry down by the lake in the afternoon kind of love.”
Tears spill over her bottom lids, but her joy isn’t contained, and she giggles. “That’s intense.”
I scoot over until we’re sitting together. Wrapping my arm around her, I hug her close. “That is intense and so honest that I don’t even think I can look at you right now.”
“What?” She squeezes me. “Why can’t you look at me?”
“Because then I’m going to see that look in your eyes that tells me I told you too much.”
“It wasn’t too much.”
Raising an eyebrow, I add, “I meant that you’re going to have hearts in your eyes and a goofy grin on your face because I’ve given you ammo to hang over me like a carrot teasing a rabbit.”
Her head leans against my arm. “You know me so well, Jason Koster. I love a good blackmail, and you’ve given me a doozy.”
It’s all fun and games, good-natured teasing, but she’s still over there laughing while my stomach is tied up in knots. Apparently, she notices because she adds, “If it makes a difference, you can hang something over me, too.”
“What is that?”
“I love you.” Fuck yeah.
Free and easy.
Without stipulations.
She just lays it out there without fear . . .Wait a minute. “Are you saying it just because I did?”
“No. I’m saying it because I know it’s true. I never stopped.”
“Me either.” I point at the sky. “Look. A shooting star.”
“You sure that wasn’t a spaceship?”
“Oh, ye of little faith. That was a star receiving our message and sending it into the cosmos.”
Her happiness bubbles over, and a giggle escapes. “What does our star say?”
“Nothing heals a broken soul like the love of a true heart.”
Looking back up at the sky, she teases, “Our star should write poetry.” Poking me in the shoulder, she adds, “So should you, Koster. You’re such a romantic.”
I hold her close again, soaking in the aura of her beautiful soul. “I’m not that romantic. I just say what I feel. So, to me, poetry isn’t lines strung together or words with the perfectly crafted iambic pentameter. No, that’s not poetry to me.”
“What’s poetry to you?”
“One word. Delilah.”
18
Jason
“Why do you sleep in your old room?”
Floating on her back with her eyes closed and her body still, Delilah replies, “I feel safe in that corner of the house.”
I wade through the water, mentally running through the floor plan of the farmhouse. Her room is the farthest from the front door, the back door, and the common areas. “You never wanted to take over the primary bedroom downstairs?”
As if an unforeseen force pushes her down into the lake, she loses her balance when she loses her concentration. She pops back up before I have a chance to worry.
Glorious in the midmorning sun shining on her wet lashes and water droplets covering her skin, she swims away from me. After being here practically every day and night for more than a week, I’ve discovered when she turns away from me that she’s either avoiding a question or hiding from me. She can’t lie when looking into my eyes. Either way, it’s avoidance. Simple as that.
