Page 68 of Hard to Score

“Like I said, complicated,” he murmurs.

“Family’s always complicated. But at the end of the day, there is something here and I’m not willing to get invested in it if I know I’m going to get hurt before I even start.”

“There’s never a guarantee on that.”

“I know but . . .” I pace from one end of the office to the other, frustrated, and fearful that I might lose Drew before we really even find each other again.

“Brexton.” He only says my name but there is so much emotion in it that I know he feels there is something between us too. But he’s scared of something, and I don’t know how to make him not be. “I’m not embarrassed by you,” he whispers.

“I was upset when you canceled on me the other night. I know you had an emergency but it feels like you want me in some areas of your life and not others, and that’s hard for me when I feel like mine is an open book. I mean, I get it, we’ve only just reconnected after years. But to me, there’s a different level of closeness because we did know each other years ago. We were friends. Are friends.”

“So you’ve told your family that we’re seeing each other then?” Not a chance. I hesitate and he knows why. “You haven’t, have you?”

And he’s got me. What I’m judging him on, I’m doing the same thing.

“I haven’t, no,” I admit.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know why I’m afraid to. It’s almost like I fear that if I do, they’ll make fun of me for falling so fast for you.”

“Which leads me back to that first night at my house when I said we don’t talk about the past.”

“But the past is who we are, Drew. The past made us and brought us to this point in time . . .” I make a strangled cry that doesn’t make me feel any better.

“See? Complicated.”

“It is, but in the same breath it’s simple. We have our own lives to live. That—the past, our history, our dads—don’t get to own us. Dating someone is hard enough and then dating someone who cancels dates on you at the last minute but doesn’t explain why is worse. It makes me feel like I’m simply another willing body to you, like I’m inconsequential, and frankly, I deserve more than that.” I’m twenty-six years old. I want more than that.

“You do, Brexton.” He clears his throat and sighs. “You deserve so much more.”

“So can you understand that I’m not ignoring you? It’s more that I just need to figure things out.”

Like how I’m already head over heels for you, Drew Bowman, when every part of me is telling me that it’s too soon. That I need to find my equilibrium before I’m so off-kilter I get hurt.

I know there are no guarantees in love. Love? Christ. That thought in and of itself is justification on why I need to pull the reins in just a little. Why I need to make sure we’re both in this together and wanting the same things out of it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

DREW

THEY’LL MAKE FUN OF ME for falling so fast for you.

Brexton’s words mull around in my head. Eat at me.

Did she not realize she’d said them?

Were they a slip of subconscious?

But she did say them and they’re out in the open. Now I know where she stands—thank fuck for that. I thought I was being a tad crazy over here feeling the same about her.

How does shit like this happen?

How do you meet someone in your teens, reconnect with them later in life, and just fucking know it was meant to be?

Meant to be? Motherfucker.

How is that possible? Why am I thinking along these lines? And, how do I accept that when I’ve never been one to think like this before?