I watch the front doors long after she’s disappeared through them. The universe had to have set this up. After all this time, all the texts sent, all the questions asked, and she just happens to be in the café I walk into? Fucking kismet.
Goddamn, there’s something about Tabitha Riley.
Still here after all she went through, spitting fire. She wears her attitude like a cloak draped over her body. Not a shield, but an accessory.
She’s beautiful.
Gone was the vulnerability from the night of the fire. Cleaned of ashes and smoke, she practically glowed, a halo of light surrounding her. Underneath, though, I sensed something different. A bitterness. An uncertainty that wasn’t there before, proven by the little movements here and there. Pulling her sleeves down. Making sure her hair was over her shoulder. The way she tried to disappear into the crowd.
I know almost nothing about her injuries other than what Micah has said. She was burned on one side of her body where the fire got too close. Too near such a precious form. I can only imagine?—.
I squeeze my eyes shut, anger dousing my body. My brain tries to conjure up images of what she would’ve went through, but at the same time, I wipe them away. Why Tab?
My hands clench at my sides. Micah should’ve told me—us—what was going on with her. Raeann is part of the family now, and Tab isherfamily. Instead, he’s hidden her away. On bed rest like it’s the 1800s. Just judging by the time I spent with her, the last thing she needs is to be secluded. She needs to be out there, living boldly. I mean…she survived. Fuck. She deserves a celebration. Hiding is not the answer.
“Excuse me?” I don’t look right away, and the man has to repeat himself, then add, “Can I get through?”
It’s then that I realize I’m standing at the front door, staring between the curved decals that represent steam from a coffee cup.
I step out of the way, and the guy does a double take. “Yo. Levi Soucy. Great game the other day. That catch in the third right on the sidelines… Amazing.”
“Thanks, man,” I say, shaking his hand on autopilot. I’m always cordial when talking to fans while at the same time attempting to keep the interaction to a minimum. I learned early on that if you gave people an inch, they’d take the whole damn day.
Not Tab, though. Before the fire, all of my interactions with her were normal. As if I was just some guy. Maybe it’s because she was used to having Micah around, but it was refreshing to not have to wade through looks of stardom.
I give the guy a smile, looking away so he knows the conversation is over, but I spot the emblem on his shirt. The plan of all plans solidifies in my mind. If this was a football play, we’d be going straight to the championship. “You work for that cell company?”
“Sales,” he confirms. “If you ever need anything, I’ll hook you up. We’re down the street.”
I pat his shoulder, beaming. “Dude, you could not have come at a better time. You have no idea. Are you heading back there now?”
“Yeah, I just stepped out for coffee.” He holds up his to-go cup.
“I’ll walk with you.”
The street is busy. Pedestrians, cars, but I’ve never minded the hustle and bustle. Some of the older guys on the team prefer to live outside the city limits, with their big houses and families, but I love living in the center of it. Being able to pop down to the store like this and grab what I need.
“Alright, what’re you looking for?” the guy asks when he opens the door to the shop. There are a couple more workers behind the desk and a few customers browsing phones. The store is on the small side with pedestals showcasing the newest phones and other tech accessories cropping up across the showroom floor like strategically placed defense players on the field.
Each pedestal is showcased from a spotlight above. I stop near one, watching the vibrant colors on the screen as the phone goes through a demo, but the images morph into Tab on her bed, texting me with a huge smile on her face.
“I want the works,” I tell him, turning to face him again. “See, I’m trying to impress this girl, so I want the absolute best phone you have in this place, plus all the accessories that go with it…and I want the line added to my plan.”
It’s a last-minute decision, but it just feels right. I’m not going to give her a gift and then make her pay for it, but better than that, adding her to my plan is a step in the direction I want to take with her. On the same phone plan signals togetherness, a relationship, even family.
I’m so fucking giddy.
“You want to keep her number?”
I open my mouth to say yes, but that has some potential problems. One, I don’t have her original phone number to give to this guy, and two, if she has her old number back, she’ll be available to everyone. Literally everyone. All her friends, family, social media.
I want her all to myself.
Mine.
The thought surprises me, but instead of feeling bad about it, I smirk. “New number.”
“You got it.”
