“Oh, boy, you don’t even know half of it,” I laughed, then stopped abruptly when another gust of wind hit me.
“I have the ladder steady,” he promised. “No movement you make will make it slip from under you. Don’t trust me. Trust yourself. What feels better? A step forward or back?”
“Are you being philosophical right now?” I shook my head in disbelief.
He laughed. “No. Just decide, Covee and commit. Don’t do it halfway because if you’re unsure, you might trip. I’ll catch you; I swear. But it’s safer if you make it down yourself.”
I nodded and squeezed my hands into a fist. Back or forward? Alone or with him catching me? When I finally decided, I took Weston’s advice. I didn’t hesitate.
My sneaker gripped the step ahead of me. I cleared the first step without a hitch. And then committed to the next one. On the third step down, I finally bent my knee enough without losing my balance. Weston’s hand grabbed mine instantly. He didn’t let go for a second. When my feet were on the ground, I started laughing and he joined in.
“I’m sure that didn’t look as hardcore as it felt,” I said.
“It did, actually,” Weston replied. He pulled me close for a brief hug. I barely registered his arms around me before they were gone.
“The rest of the way yourself,” he reminded me. His voice faded as he backed up. “Follow my voice. We’re almost there. Two teams are out already.”
I took a tentative step forward. “It’s so awkward walking without you by my side.”
“You got this,” he encouraged. “Make it to the finish line, I won’t leave it.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I teased while holding out my hands to brace myself against the tackle dummies that lined the field.
“Not my M.O,” he said.
I’m not sure exactly what tipped the scale, but at that moment, I committed to another decision- let Weston Briggs eat me out. It was probably the voice. His encouragement made me feel grounded. Or maybe it was his touch- willing, present, safe. Whatever combination of things led me to the decision made me lose our few precious seconds in thoughts. Max whooped his victory in the distance and Taylor called out his time.
When I removed the blindfold, Weston stood right in front of me with a smile on his face. It took a moment for my eyes to readjust to the light. Once I finally did, I locked eyes with him. Something in his face changed. His mouth set straight with realization. I’m not sure what gave it away, but he knew I was going to say yes.
“Round two!” Grayson announced with excitement while heading back towards the starting line. Kevin and David groaned in unison.
Weston stepped closer to me. Without a word took the blindfold out of my grasp. We went back to the starting line, where he bent down so I could tie the cloth around his eyes properly.
“Ready?” he asked in a deep voice.
“Yes. I think so.”
We lost again. I never let go of his hand even after the ladder. I didn’t ask him that night. Not when we parted ways with his teammates and walked through the dimly lit campus. Not when he walked me to my dorm building. Not when he whispered, “goodnight” and left me with the black blindfold in my hands.
I let a day pass, then another and another. The decision was made, but I still let it fester in the back of my mind. Fear swallowed me until it paralyzed me with what-ifs. On day three of my avoidance, I finally opened our text thread. With a deep breath, I started typing.
Chapter 14
I re-readthe drafted text on my phone:
Can you come over?
Simple and straight to the point. I stared at the words for about a half-hour without pressing send. Soon enough, my mind wandered, clouding with dark thoughts.
I chewed on my nail in frustration as my eyes pricked with tears. Before I knew it, I was crying. For no reason and every reason. Crying about being alone in a silent apartment, being so far from my best friend, and not having a home to go to for spring break. I cried about Weston wanting to please me. Cried about feeling so damn lonely. I even cried about crying.
My head started hurting from all the tears. I buried myself in between my pillows, eventually drifting to sleep. I woke to a crash in the kitchen. Taylor’s loud laughter made me groan.
My head pounded with a headache. I looked at my phone to find out I only had twenty minutes before my bus was scheduled to arrive. Quickly, I scrambled out of bed to throw on some clothes.
“Morning, Coco,” Taylor greeted once I’d emerged from my room. Elena sat at our counter scrolling through her phone in silence. A black guy dressed in business casual had his hands around Taylor’s hips. “I’ll take care of the bowl.”
I looked down at the mess on the floor. One of the few bowls I owned - thanks to Ari’s generosity and online shopping habit was shattered on our kitchen floor. I busied myself with finding my keys and a pair of shades instead of responding.
