Charlie had told me to tell him the next time that I spoke to Derek, but I was having way, way, way too many conflicting feelings inside me right now. I didn’t know whether to shut my mouth or agree to go with him just out of spite.
“Hmm?” Derek asked, his fingers brushing against mine again, giving me tingles.
I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. “When I was younger, I was hanging from the monkey bars at school, and I, um … had an accident, a brain aneurysm. I fell and hit my head on a metal slide. And I …” Fuck, I’m info-dumping again. “And I was in physical therapy for years, learning to walk again, so this is my way of … paying them back.”
While I expected a typical player response from Derek—he seemed like the uninterested in women’s stories and only wanted to fuck kind of guy—his eyes softened, and his mouth fell ajar slightly.
“Wow,” he whispered. “That must’ve been so hard for you.”
After shrugging, I glanced back at the pickup area, where my drink and breakfast still hadn’t come out yet. It was only a few bucks, but I felt like I had to stay and talk to Derek as a thank-you for paying for my meal, even after I paid him back.
“Is that why you have a limp?” Derek asked.
My eyes widened, and I snapped my gaze back to him, my cheeks red and flaming and so, so hot. He … he had noticed my limp? I had worked for years to be able to walk, never mind without a limp.
“I’m only asking because Charlie said you had one,” he said, holding his hands up as my chest seemed to tighten in on me, squeezing me so hard that I thought I couldn’t breathe. “I haven’t noticed it though, so I wasn’t sure.”
Maybe that was one of the reasons that Charlie didn’t want to pursue things with me further.
I thought my walk was seamless now. I barely even thought about my accident anymore.
But—I glanced down at my legs—if someone watched me closely, I knew I still didn’t walk as straight as I had before the accident. Now, thanks to this little conversation, I would be hyperaware of it for the rest of my life.
“Oh,” I whispered. “Um, yeah.”
“Who gives a fuck about what he thinks?” Derek said, waving it off like it was nothing.
What does he mean by that? Charlie has confided in him about me, about my accident? He has an opinion on it, on the way I walk maybe? Maybe I was fuck-buddy material, but not girlfriend material. Would he feel embarrassed to be with me like that?
He had never been scared to be seen with me before, but all we had been was friends. When I stood on my toes and tried to kiss him at mini-golf, he didn’t kiss me back. Instead, we just went back to golfing after that stupid kid ruined it.
But maybe that stupid kid had saved me from heartbreak.
“Besides, he’s too busy with all the other girls in his life.”
“What do you mean by all the other girls?” I asked, brows drawn together.
“Nadia.”
“Nadia?” I repeated.
“Hot coffee. Black!” the barista said from behind the counter.
At the sound of his order being called, Derek kicked himself off the wall and stepped toward me. “Think about the party,” he said, lifting the twenty-dollar bill I had given him and stuffing it between my lips. He leaned close to me, so his mouth brushed against my ear. “That’s not the only thing I’ll shove in your pretty little mouth if you come with me.”
CHAPTER
TWELVE
CHARLIE
I paced around our apartment and looked at my phone for the hundredth time this morning. Right now, I was supposed to be in a meeting, but I hadn’t seen Athena since yesterday, so I’d canceled it in hopes that she’d be home before her volunteer work.
Me: Have you seen Athena?
I had been texting all of her friends this morning, but I’d barely gotten a response.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed.
