“Ah.” She nods knowingly. “And you don’t feel the same?”
I sip my Earl Grey tea. “That’s the thing, I don’t know.”
She arches a gray, almost nonexistent eyebrow. “You don’t know, or you don’t want to admit that you have feelings because it would complicate things?”
“My coach would kill me if I dated his daughter.”
“You’re too important to the team to kill,” she reasons.
“She’s too young for me,” I rebut.
“How young is she?”
“Twenty-one.”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s hardly too young. She’s an adult; you’re an adult. You’re making excuses. What’s the real problem?”
“She deserves better, and I have too much baggage.”
Gurdy reaches across the table and places her soft, age-weathered hand on top of mine. “Dear boy, we all come with baggage. What if she’s your right person? Don’t let her slip through your fingers because you’re too afraid to try.”
For the time being, I just give her a look and let her win again, but I roll our conversation over in my head on the way home. Gurdy doesn’t know my history with women and relationships. She doesn’t realize pursuing Tally would be wickedly selfish. She would have to face all the media bullshit that comesalong with me, and eventually I would have to come clean about what really sent me down that dark path. Tally deserves someone who can give her his whole heart, not just a pile of fragments.
When I arrive home, I toss my keys on the counter next to the mail. My first stop is the laundry room. I pull my freshly washed and dried sheets and bathrobe out of the dryer. Immediately after I dropped Tally at her apartment, I came home, stripped the bed, and put everything she’d touched in the wash.
I stupidly thought cleansing my personal space of her presence and her smell would erase the memory of her being here. But the image of her curled up in my spare bed, long wavy blonde hair fanned out across the pillow remains vivid. It’s been an eternity since I’ve felt this kind of…longing for something.Someone. She looked so peaceful, like she belonged…
I shut it all down. Compartmentalize it. There’s no other choice. Vander Zee would destroy me. Even if he didn’t and we did try, I can’t risk messing up the friend group because I’m suddenly lonely. Tally needs these people and their support more than I need someone to cuddle with.
I make the spare bed on autopilot, hang my robe in the bathroom, grab a healthy snack made by Rix from the fridge, and park my ass on the couch.
The book I’ve been reading sits on the coffee table, taunting me. The irony is real, since it’s Tally’s. She suggested it in the group chat and passed it to Rix, who passed it to me a couple of weeks ago. I flip the book open. But my mind keeps drifting.
Tally’s become an integral part of our friend group. I look forward to the nights where she joins us at the Watering Hole. I try to make her dance showcases when we’re in town and don’t have a game, because she’s incredible on stage.
I could convince myself that I feel the same way about her as I do Hammer, Hemi, Essie, and Dred—a friend who’s a girl and firmly platonic. But her proposition has altered everything. I don’t want to understand, to empathize, but I do. Especially nowthat she’s explained and I’ve had a chance to reframe it all. But I can’t pursue her. Her world is too fragile, and I would be devastated if I hurt her.
I pick up the book and immerse myself in the story, but whenever something funny or interesting happens, I find myself itching to text Tally. Before the proposition, I would have thought nothing of firing off a quick message. But it’s not just about the book. I want to make sure she’s okay, to tell her everything she said this morning made sense. It’s a bad idea, though. Tristan was right, I can’t lead her on.
My phone buzzes on the side table.
I flip it over, half hoping it’s her. If Tally reaches out first, I can respond.
But it’s just an alert from my fan page. There are ten new messages, and all but two are from women who want to hook up.
It’s the reminder I need.
Because if I give in, I don’t think I could handle it when she continued her life and left me behind. That’s what always happens. She doesn’t want to keep me; she just wants my help.
CHAPTER 9
TALLY
“Can we all fit in another rehearsal later this week?” I rest my heel on the barre and bend until my cheek meets my knee while scrolling my calendar. Just call me the multitasking queen.
“My schedule is open, apart from Wednesday,” Charles says.
“Same, but Thursday is my heavy day,” Arya offers.
