I hold up a hand. “Okay, Mom, I get it. I don’t think it’s that she doesn’t like me. Brynn is kind of like Fort Knox. She plays things close to the vest, and that includes most emotions, almost all thoughts that aren’t snarky, and a lot of details about her life. She’s told me some things, but…” I shake my head, recalling what she’s revealed, but I remember more what she hasn’t told me.Like why she came to Brighton and how long she’s staying.“She doesn’t give much away, that’s all I’m trying to say.”
Mom nods slowly, thinking. She pulls a piece of hair from her cheek, tucking it back into her low bun. “Sounds to me like Brynn experienced something very painful.”
The thought sends a jolt through me. In my mind I see and hear the piercing door alarm.
Brynn is scared of something. Or someone.
“Shit,” I mutter. “You’re right.” My head rocks from side to side sluggishly as I work through how I missed something like that. She doesn’t have an attitude problem. She’s hiding behind a wall, erected to keep her safe.
My mom’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Whatever happened to make her that way, I’d say she came into luck meeting you.”
I look at her, eyebrows pinched. “What do you mean?”
“You’re the best person I can think of to help coax someone from their hiding spot.”
I nod as though I’m agreeing, and change the subject to the reason for my visit. I can’t talk about Brynn anymore. The thought of someone hurting her sends anger coursing through me, and the thought of consoling her makes me want to jump in my truck, speed to her house, and show her how she deserves to be touched.
Clearly, that’s never going to happen.
* * *
“Connor? What do you want?”
I draw in a quick breath, surprised Brynn answered her phone. “How is your weekend going?” For real? Did I just say that?Lame with a side of extra lame.
Brynn knows it too. The line is quiet for a moment, then she sighs. “I think you called me by accident.”
“Maybe,” I respond, tipping my head back against my truck’s headrest. My ego is a tad bruised. Can’t she sound at least a little pleased to hear from me on a Saturday?
She snorts. “Connor, did you mean to call me or not?”
“No,” I say, lying through my teeth. “But since my butt decided to dial you, I figured I might as well make conversation.”
Oh my God. No. No no no.
All I can do now is pray she doesn’t think I’m making a crude junior-high joke about bodily functions.
“Ummmm okay?”
I have to recover from this. “I’m on my way to do something manly.” I glance at my boxing gloves as I say it.
“Oh yeah?” She sounds completely uninterested.
Even though she hasn’t asked me what manly thing I’m on my way to do, I tell her anyway.
“Boxing?” Her voice perks up. “Is there a boxing place around here?”
“The Knockout,” I answer, stifling my surprise. “It’s about twenty minutes away, in Still Creek.”
“Oh.” Her excitement disappears. “That’s too far.”
Right. The car thing. Another question I want to ask but I’m too afraid.
“Maybe I could take you there sometime?” I offer.
“I’ll check out their website. Maybe I can take a lesson…” Her voice drifts, dropping low on the last words.
“What are you up to this weekend?” I ask, changing the subject.
