“It’s complicated.” I scrub a hand down my face. “I don’t have anyone to talk to, and I know I can tell you and you won’t judge me or betray my confidence.”
He nods, leaning forward a little. “Color me intrigued.”
“I love her,” I blurt. “I have for a long time, but I only let myself admit it recently because—” I pause to take a drink of water, my mouth suddenly feeling dry.
“Because?” Jimmy coaxes when I drain the water and toss the empty bottle in the trash.
“Because it was inappropriate, and nothing would have happened.”
“Inappropriate how? Who is this woman?”
“It’s Kendall Hawthorne,” I admit, my heart galloping. A tiny hint of shock splays across his face. “She’s West’s mom.” He is aware who West Hawthorne is. Most everyone in town knows our QB because he’s a star on the field and clearly going places.
He steeples his fingers against the thin layer of silvery scruff on his chin. “I know who she is. You never forget a woman like that.” He chuckles again. “I still remember the day she showed up here. Pretty as a picture but clearly out of her depth. The guys were tripping over themselves to offer her assistance.”
“I’ll bet.” I rub a hand along the back of my neck. “I tried to just see her as West’s mom. To tell myself it was only a stupid crush or hormones or the fact she was nice and tried to help me.” I shrug, attempting to loosen the tense muscles in my shoulders. This is harder to admit than I thought.
“But it’s not.”
“It’s not.” I lick my lips, preparing to admit something I’m scared to even admit to myself. “This is going to make me sound like a pussy, but it feels like fate brought me here to find her. The instant I met her, I felt the most intense connection, and it hasn’t gone away. It’s only gotten worse, and—” I stop talking, knotting my hands together and looking at the floor as I prepare to say the words. “I see her in my dreams. Seeus, but it’s like we were from a different time.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, and I look up. I don’t see any derision or humor on his face, and that spurs me on. “It’s the same dream I’ve been having for years. We’re in a river. It’s nighttime, and the moon casts shadows over the pyramids in the background. Palm trees line both sides of the river, and rudimentary mud-brick homes are scattered in the near distance. We’re alone. We have our arms around one another, and we’re kissing.” My heart careens around my chest as I visualize the image in my mind’s eye. I have seen it so much in my dreams I can instantly recall it. “I’m older, and she’s younger. We look different, but it’s still her. When I look into her eyes, I see through to her soul, and I know it’s Kendall. Even though it’s only a dream, Ifeelher in my arms. I feel her heart beating against mine and her pulse thrumming against my fingertips. I feel the featherlight touch of her hand as she runs it up and down my chest and the warmth of her breath against my ear as she whispers how much she loves me.”
I glance up at the old man. He’s watching me with keen intensity. Jimmy nods, urging me to continue.
I drag my lip between my teeth as pain lances through my chest. This part always hurts. “After we’re together, I help her to dry off at the river’s edge, and then I hold her hand and lead her away. I guess I’m taking her home, but we stay in the shadows, running under the trees and crouching along low walls. Until a group of men surround us. They’re dark-skinned, wearing loincloths and carrying spears and shields. They take her from me. I’m fighting. Kendall is screaming and then—” My eyes lock on his. “Then everything turns black.”
“Well, shit.”
I blow air out of my mouth. “That’s one way of describing it.”
His lips curve at the corners. “You sure you’re not high, son? You take one too many hits to the head?” I narrow my eyes at him, and he chuckles. “I’m just yanking your chain.” He swigs another mouthful of whiskey. “That’s very intriguing.”
“You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“No crazier than most men.”
“Well, that’s reassuring. Thanks,” I mumble.
He chuckles again. “The brain is a fascinating organ. I’ve studied it a little, what with the risks involved in this business. Read all manner of unexplainable things. I don’t think we’ll ever unravel the mystery of how it works.”
“You think I have some issue with my brain?”
He shakes his head. “No. Not at all. I’m just saying the brain is capable of a lot, and there is much we don’t understand about it. Who knows what our dreams are or why some people dream and others never do? Why some vividly remember their dreams and others forget them the instant they wake? Are they past recollections of a different life? Glimpses into the future? Is it a worry or concern manifesting in strange ways like a puzzle we’re unable to figure out? Or is it our brain trying to tell us something or guide us along a certain path?” He shrugs. “We don’t know. We never will. At least not in our lifetime.”
“Kendall would love you. She’s big into philosophy.”
“She the reason you carry that dog-eared paperback with you everywhere?”
I nod. “She gave me a copy ofMeditationsfor my eighteenth birthday. It’s one of the best books I’ve ever read.”
“Tried reading it once,” he says. “There’s definitely some wisdom amid all the nonsensical ramblings.”
“That book speaks to my soul,” I truthfully reply, pointing to my inner arm. “Got a couple of quotes inked on my skin.”
He strains forward over the desk. “What’s it say? These old eyes can’t read it from here.”
“Divine tolerance and divine fury,” I confirm. “I’m equally split between the two.” I stand, carefully removing my sleeveless training top and showing him my back. “Got this done on Tuesday; that’s why it’s still a little red and swollen.”
