“Well, it’s a hockey romance, so I need to learn about the game, which is gonna take some research and?—”
“I’ll help you.”
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I can tell they’ve taken her by surprise when she rears back just a little.
And because it’s pretty clear I’ll do just about anything for this girl if it means she’ll keep smiling at me, I repeat myself.
“I’ll help you. I’ll be your own personal hockey tutor and teach you everything you need to know about the game. I can ask Valerie if she can give you some cool tips and ideas, too. She lives for this stuff.”
“You’d do that?” Erin asks, her eyes shining with hope.
A grin spreads across my face because I think I’ve just found a way to get that date.
“I will. If you?—”
“Deal.”
I chuckle. “Just like that?”
“Yep.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Let me take you on a date.”
The light drains from her, and her beautiful sun-kissed skin pales.
“What?” she whispers.
“A date, Erin. You know, two people who like each other hanging out. Exactly what we’re doing now, but I promise it willbe much better than a woodland trail and a park bench. I can be quite the romantic.”
Her hand curls over the bottom of the bench, holding onto the wood for dear life. I reach out, peel her fingers away, and hold her dainty hand in my calloused ones.
“The truth is, Erin. I know we haven’t known each other for long but… I don’t feel like I’m drowning when I’m with you or gasping for air. It comes easy to me, and it doesn’t hurt to breathe. I can think when we’re together, and I like that, Bookworm. Spending time with you has easily become a luxury I want more of.”
“I…”
“Say yes, Bookworm.” My thumb moves back and forth over her skin as I wait for that three-letter word.
“I… can’t. I-I’m sorry.” Her voice dissolves, and her hand slips out of mine as she stands.
She power walks away, then takes off in a run when I call out to her.
The panic that was in her eyes makes me question if she’ll ever let her walls down for me.
I want to go after her, but the last thing I want to do is crowd her when she’s clearly overwhelmed. So, I stay put and wonder why the girl I’m really starting to like won’t let me get close to her.
My ribs are caving in,each breath harder than the one before, but I push forward, even though my legs are dead weight beneath me.
I can’t stop.
I can’t let her win.
Not again.
“I am not my mother. I am not my mother. I am not my mother.” I chant my mantra over and over again as I pump my arms faster.
