Page 91 of Hard to Hold

It has to just be me. It has to be that I need to overthink less and enjoy him more.

“What’s going on between Rush and me? A little fun. A lot of sex. I don’t know.” I shrug.

Johnny chuckles in that you can’t pull this shit over on me way he has. “You don’t know? Woman, the way he looks at you says something altogether different. I’m not buying it. There’s more than sex. Nice try.”

“Can’t a woman and man just want to have some careless and much-needed fun?”

“Easier said than done.”

I laugh. “Remember who you’re talking to, John.”

“I forgot.” He snorts. “The queen heartbreaker herself.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Tell me the last guy you dated—er slept with, because you don’t really date—that lasted for more than three months.”

“Exactly. That’s why this is perfect.” If I keep telling myself the lie then maybe I’ll start believing it. “We’re over halfway into this contract, Rush will go home, and we’ll be done. I couldn’t have planned it better myself.”

“Your words are ringing hollow, Lenn.”

I glance over at him and am at a complete and utter loss of words for one of my oldest friends. “I don’t know what to say.”

“How about you admit you’re falling for him?” He immediately holds up his hand to prevent me from rejecting the notion completely. “And what’s so wrong with that if you are? He’s a good guy. You’re an awesome woman. You clicked. You had sex. And now, holy shit, there just might be something more there than just the physical. What’s wrong with that?”

I fight the tears burning in my eyes. The tears present because his words are what I’ve been telling myself but can’t seem to accept. “I can’t be falling for him.” My voice is all but a whisper.

“Why can’t you?”

“Because that’s not me. I’m not her. I don’t do hearts and flowers and gushy and—”

“That’s not always what love is. There’s no mold for it to fit in. It’s always give and take, but it’s also what each individual person needs it to be. My mom used to tell me everyone has their own love language. Everyone has a way they need to be loved and a way they give love. Whatever the fuck that means.”

“Did you actually just say everyone has their own love language?” I snicker.

He lifts a middle finger. “Give me a break here. I’m trying to act mature and give you advice you probably don’t want or need,” he says but his cheeks turn pink, and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.

“Mature? You? You should start a relationship blog and call it Dear Johnny.”

“And you should stop teasing or find somewhere else to stay,” he jokes.

But my sigh is heavy despite the smiles on our lips. “I’m not in love with him, Johnny.” I say the words but the knowing look and nod he gives me says he doesn’t buy it either. “How can I be? How can I have never had feelings for anyone and now all of a sudden have some? I mean, that’s just asinine.”

“Sure. Fine. You’re not.” His tone says everything, contrary to his nonchalance. “But I also know you use the word asinine when you get flustered.” He lifts his eyebrows.

“You’re frustrating.”

“Ditto,” he says and then his expression softens. “Don’t push him away because you’re scared. That’s all I’m going to say.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Just stubborn,” he says sarcastically, and I drop my head to the back of the couch and stare at the ceiling.

“He’s a loner, Lenn, always has been. The only thing that keeps him tethered is football and right now, he’s afraid he’s going to lose that.”

“He won’t lose that,” I say with an assertiveness I don’t know for certain. “Liverpool would be stupid to let him go.”

“Nothing’s set in stone. I don’t know much, but I do know this whole thing has been hard on him, even though he’s doing a good job hiding it.” He takes a sip of his drink and points at me. “Maybe you’ll be the one to help him get through it.”