Stupid Girl
Page 18
My gaze rose to find Brax’s lips twisting into a seriously cute grin. “I know,” I appeased. “Maybe you and Mom can drive up and you can check out the Mulligan with me. It’s sincerely a sweet scope.”
Jilly heaved a big sigh into the phone. “Well, there is that, I suppose. Everything goin’ all right there? You ain’t turnin’ all fancypants on me, are ya?”
Again, I giggled. “No, Jilly.” I looked at Brax. His eyes were directly on mine. “Same old me.”
“Good. Keep it that way. It’s my bedtime now, gotta go. I love ya, darlin’.”
My smile pulled at my mouth. “I love you too, Jilly. ’Night.”
He grumbled and swore at something random as he disconnected the phone. I put mine away.
“And you can shoot?” Brax asked.
I eyed him. “Sure.”
“I like you more by the second, Sunshine.”
I lifted a brow. “You’re easily impressed.”
He chuckled. “The hell I am. I like that guy, though,” he admitted. “Sounds as badass as his granddaughter. And he’s apparently crazy about you.”
I nodded. “He is, and he is.”
“I can see why.”
Just as my face started to heat up, the food came. “Okay, lovebirds, dig in.” The waitress interrupted the moment and plopped two loaded plates of apple pancakes and sausage down in front of us. She followed it with a pot of steaming hot maple syrup, a small bowl of butter, and two large glasses of chocolate milk. The entire time she set the food down, Brax kept his stare on me. The grin only grew wider.
“Wow,” I said, leaning over my plate and inhaling. I smiled at Brax. “This smells so good.” I plopped a gob of butter in the center of the stack.
“I’ll give you a hundred bucks if you eat all that,” he finally said.
I held out my hand to his for a shake, and he grasped it. His completely dwarfed mine; it was large and warm and calloused. And perfect. “You’re on, Southie.”
We dug in, delicious crispy-edged fried apple pancakes drowned in butter and hot syrup, and spicy sausage, and soon the uncomfortable shyness drifted out of me. “So how’d you get started in baseball?” I asked. I pulled a long sip of chocolate milk and waited.
A faraway look came over his expression, and I figured he was remembering things from a long time ago. He licked syrup off his thumb. It was the first time I’d ever recalled wishing like hell to be a thumb. “When I was a little kid I lived close enough to Fenway to hear the crack of a baseball against a bat.” A fond memory must’ve flittered over his mind, and a ghostly smile lifted his mouth. “Me and my brothers used to sneak over, and the old guy at the ticket booth knew who we were and always let us in through a back entrance.” He looked away then, like he was searching something familiar. “I got my ass beat more than once for sneakin’ to the park, but I hardly ever missed a game. Even when we moved.” Pahk. He looked over at me. “We’d catch the train and ride it to Fenway. I loved everything about that ballpark. Me and my brothers, we didn’t have to pay for anything. Hot dogs, sodas, peanuts, the game.” He winked. “All on our eight year old charm. But it was the sounds that drew me. Ball to bat. Ball to glove.” He dug back into his pancakes, and my eyes were drawn to his inked knuckles and tattooed arms. “The cracking sound they both made.” He looked at me, and kept chewing, then swallowed. “I remember hanging over the rail in outfield for the whole f**king game, just to catch a fly ball.” He drew a line across his stomach. “Had a bruise straight across here for a solid week.”
I listened intently, hanging onto every word. I could tell Brax was in his element. In his zone. Before or after the bad stuff, it didn’t matter. Here, with baseball, he’d been happy. I had a huge feeling though he’d faced a lot harsher times than he was letting on.
He grinned as if he’d read my mind. “We were poor as shit, and when good ole St. Nick didn’t bring me a glove for Christmas I stole one from the thrift shop up the street from our house. Took me a while to steal a ball. Hid them both under my bed so my old man wouldn’t find them. After that,” he shrugged those broad shoulders again, “I just kept on throwing. Every single day.”
As I inspected Brax’s very close profile I tried to envision him as a little boy. It saddened me to think of him being mistreated, or going without. But I wanted to keep things light right now. I liked the spark I saw in those odd, clear depths. “I bet you were a big ole stinker. Charming your way into the ballpark with those eyes.” I popped in the last bite of sausage and chewed, smothering a grin. “I bet you were all curls and teeth and pure deviltry.”
Brax turned a bit, to directly face me. “So you’re noticin’ my eyes and locks and teeth, huh, Sunshine?”
“Ego, Boston, ego,” I chastised. “We’re in a crowded booth here, don’t forget.”
Brax laughed, shook his head, and draped his arm behind me on the seat rest. “Yeah, I had hair out to fuckin’ here,” he held his hands inches from his head. “Looked like a Wildman. So what about you? How was it growing up?”
I looked at my empty plate. “Like I told you before, my dad left us when I was little, and I don’t remember him at all, really. But I remember after him.” I fidgeted with the paper from my straw. “We all worked hard, even at early ages. My two older brothers, me, and my younger brother. We didn’t have much. But as kids we didn’t know it. My grandpa Jilly had just retired from the Rangers—”
“As in the Texas Rangers?”
I looked at Brax. “That’s right.”
“That’s cool as shit, Sunshine. No wonder he shoots.” He nodded. “Proceed.”
I smiled. “Jilly’s a character—and one of my very best friends. Anyway, he’d just retired and so our income was limited. We broke horses for rich ranchers in the area. Jilly was untouched in his day. He could talk a horse into doing anything. My mom, too, and we’d get horses in from all over the state. My brothers and I were raised in the horse pen.” I shrugged. “We always had food to eat. We always had a Christmas tree. Mom always made us birthday cakes and gave us plenty of love. The only time I really knew we were poor was when another kid at school would tell us so. Make fun of our clothes. Stuff like that.”
“Kids can be mean little bastards.” Brax’s stare scored into me, like he could see deeper into that part of me usually reserved for the limited few and deserving people I’d allow in. As it had numerous times before, his gaze lowered to my mouth and settled there, and subconsciously I pulled my scar between my teeth. When his stare lifted, those eyes had turned rainy, smoky, fiery all at once. The look was so profound it made my breath catch in my throat, and I found I couldn’t look away.
“What about astronomy, Gracie?” he asked, in that raspy voice. “Have you always loved it?”
I smiled then, and found it not so hard to look him in the eye. My stars were his baseball. “My whole life.”
Brax’s eyes softened, then he looked up, slowly exhaled, took his cap off and shoved his fingers through his hair. “Jesus Christ, girl,” he muttered, then replaced his hat and turned to me.
I gave him a puzzled look. “What?”
His smile was again lazy and deep. “You’re just so damned different.”
We continued talking, and it was so easy and enticing and interesting that I’d lost track of all time. Of place, of purpose. We ordered hot cocoa with whipped topping, and talked some more. I could tell Brax skirted some subjects, fell lightly on others. I did the same, though, so I could hardly judge him on that. One thing I knew for sure: He’d experienced a lot of pain at some point in his life. I hadn’t until the summer before my senior year, so I guess I had more to be thankful for than I’d thought. At least I’d had a loving family. I wasn’t too sure Brax had. It’d been one of the subjects he’d eased over like a fresh pond of ice. Barely skimmed it. But I could tell. Could see it in those beautifully haunted blue eyes of his. Maybe one day he’d trust his secrets to me.
Maybe one day I’d trust mine to him.
For now, though, we learned the good stuff. What kept us going. What made us strong. And I was content with that. I think he was, too.
By two in the morning, the waitress interrupted us. “You two love birds want another pot of chocolate? Or do you wanna start on java?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you.” I reached for my bag to get money for my portion of the bill. “It’s so late. I’d better be getting back.”
Brax stilled my hand with his. “I owe you a hundred bucks, remember?” He reached in his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and handed the waitress his ATM card. She smiled at him, deep sun lines sinking in around her mouth and eyes. “That a boy, tough guy.” She winked at me. “Be right back, darlin’.”
We left Hattie’s once she returned Brax’s card, and he walked me to my truck. The early-morning air hung thick, warm but not uncomfortable, and a slight breeze drifted across the parking lot. Everything was quiet, and I fished my keys out of my bag and looked up at him. “Your eye is swelling pretty good,” I said. “Do you have any frozen vegetables?”
Brax stared at me, then laughed. “Jesus, Sunshine, you can’t still be fuckin’ hungry.”
“No,” I smiled. “For your eye. A bag of frozen peas works the best. Melds to the skin better than a couple chunks of ice.”
My back was already to my door; Brax eased closer to me, braced a hand against the truck. “You speakin’ from experience?”
“I’ve had my share of black eyes.” I quirked my head, inspecting the eye that was rapidly closing shut. “You’ll be okay driving home?” He was close to me, leaning slightly in toward my body, and a thrill shot through me that made my insides hum, my skin grow warm. At the same time I was treading unknown waters, feeling unsure of myself, a little scared. This was exactly what I didn’t want starting college; certainly didn’t expect it, either. But was I being completely honest with myself? Hadn’t I secretly and privately craved this? Dreamed I’d meet a guy, one who made me feel so alive?
Desired?
A slow smile and filtered moonlight transformed Brax’s harsh features into something sexy, hungry, attentive. “Sunshine, I could ride that bike blindfolded.” With his free hand he pushed my braid off my shoulder, and ducked his head to better see my eyes. “I’m not going to kiss you yet, Gracie.” His hand reached for mine, and his thumb grazed the ring I wore. His eyes darkened. “But I will. When it’s time.”
I could barely breathe, much less speak. Somehow, I managed. “I believe you.”
To look at Brax this close, after he’d expressed such an intimate confession, made every nerve ending in my body fire at once. It was difficult—yet I couldn’t look away if I’d tried. Etched into his beautiful features were strength, determination, and struggle. Struggle not to kiss me? Did I even dare hope it?
Could I handle it if he did kiss me? Like, a real, intentional kiss?
Brax’s fingers closed around my truck keys, reached around me so close I could’ve laid my head on his chest, and unlocked my door. “Get in, Gracie.” I turned, and he stopped me, and I looked up at him again. “Before I fuckin’ change my mind.”
I eased into my truck, and Brax shut the door. I rolled down the window, started the engine.
“I’ll follow you to your dorm,” he said, then winked. “G’night, Sunshine.”
“’Night, Brax.”
I waited until Brax had straddled his bike and started the engine before I pulled out of Hattie’s. My heart raced and thumped against my ribs the whole way back to Oliver Hall where I parked, got out, and waved goodbye to Brax as he idled, watching me until I’d slid my door key in and entered the common room. I heard the grumble of his pipes as he left the parking lot.
As I jogged up the steps to the second floor, a smile pasted to my face, I noticed my heart was light for the first time in over a year. For once, I felt my life just might change for the better.
12. Breathless
After that night, I felt lighter. Despite having to look at Kelsy every day in humanities, even that tension eased up. He kept to himself and high-tailed it out of class the second it was over. Only occasionally would I catch him looking at me. The expression on his face was unreadable; a mixture of scorn versus longing, I guess. But with Brax beside me, I felt safe. Not so cagey anymore. And Kelsy left me alone. That was a plus in my book.
I began running, too, every morning before anyone else woke up. I ran alone, with just me and my thoughts, and as the days ticked by I felt stronger physically as well. My confidence was higher than it’d ever been. Working at the observatory was a dream. Steven was hysterical and a hard worker, and our shifts usually passed by pretty fast. Our first Night Sky Watch for our astronomy lab was approaching. Fun stuff. Exciting.
It had been almost two weeks since that night at Hattie’s, and Brax’s promise of kissing me still burned in my mind. The way he’d said it so bluntly, and looked at me? Promised? It’d taken me an hour to fall asleep that night. And my God, the way he had called me beautiful? The whole scene replayed in my head a thousand times. His bad-boy reputation be damned. I felt deep into my core he’d meant every word.
He hadn’t kissed me, though. We’d grown closer—saw each other every day, during school and after—yet no kiss. Had he changed his mind? Lord knows I’d never have the courage to kiss him first.
Jilly heaved a big sigh into the phone. “Well, there is that, I suppose. Everything goin’ all right there? You ain’t turnin’ all fancypants on me, are ya?”
Again, I giggled. “No, Jilly.” I looked at Brax. His eyes were directly on mine. “Same old me.”
“Good. Keep it that way. It’s my bedtime now, gotta go. I love ya, darlin’.”
My smile pulled at my mouth. “I love you too, Jilly. ’Night.”
He grumbled and swore at something random as he disconnected the phone. I put mine away.
“And you can shoot?” Brax asked.
I eyed him. “Sure.”
“I like you more by the second, Sunshine.”
I lifted a brow. “You’re easily impressed.”
He chuckled. “The hell I am. I like that guy, though,” he admitted. “Sounds as badass as his granddaughter. And he’s apparently crazy about you.”
I nodded. “He is, and he is.”
“I can see why.”
Just as my face started to heat up, the food came. “Okay, lovebirds, dig in.” The waitress interrupted the moment and plopped two loaded plates of apple pancakes and sausage down in front of us. She followed it with a pot of steaming hot maple syrup, a small bowl of butter, and two large glasses of chocolate milk. The entire time she set the food down, Brax kept his stare on me. The grin only grew wider.
“Wow,” I said, leaning over my plate and inhaling. I smiled at Brax. “This smells so good.” I plopped a gob of butter in the center of the stack.
“I’ll give you a hundred bucks if you eat all that,” he finally said.
I held out my hand to his for a shake, and he grasped it. His completely dwarfed mine; it was large and warm and calloused. And perfect. “You’re on, Southie.”
We dug in, delicious crispy-edged fried apple pancakes drowned in butter and hot syrup, and spicy sausage, and soon the uncomfortable shyness drifted out of me. “So how’d you get started in baseball?” I asked. I pulled a long sip of chocolate milk and waited.
A faraway look came over his expression, and I figured he was remembering things from a long time ago. He licked syrup off his thumb. It was the first time I’d ever recalled wishing like hell to be a thumb. “When I was a little kid I lived close enough to Fenway to hear the crack of a baseball against a bat.” A fond memory must’ve flittered over his mind, and a ghostly smile lifted his mouth. “Me and my brothers used to sneak over, and the old guy at the ticket booth knew who we were and always let us in through a back entrance.” He looked away then, like he was searching something familiar. “I got my ass beat more than once for sneakin’ to the park, but I hardly ever missed a game. Even when we moved.” Pahk. He looked over at me. “We’d catch the train and ride it to Fenway. I loved everything about that ballpark. Me and my brothers, we didn’t have to pay for anything. Hot dogs, sodas, peanuts, the game.” He winked. “All on our eight year old charm. But it was the sounds that drew me. Ball to bat. Ball to glove.” He dug back into his pancakes, and my eyes were drawn to his inked knuckles and tattooed arms. “The cracking sound they both made.” He looked at me, and kept chewing, then swallowed. “I remember hanging over the rail in outfield for the whole f**king game, just to catch a fly ball.” He drew a line across his stomach. “Had a bruise straight across here for a solid week.”
I listened intently, hanging onto every word. I could tell Brax was in his element. In his zone. Before or after the bad stuff, it didn’t matter. Here, with baseball, he’d been happy. I had a huge feeling though he’d faced a lot harsher times than he was letting on.
He grinned as if he’d read my mind. “We were poor as shit, and when good ole St. Nick didn’t bring me a glove for Christmas I stole one from the thrift shop up the street from our house. Took me a while to steal a ball. Hid them both under my bed so my old man wouldn’t find them. After that,” he shrugged those broad shoulders again, “I just kept on throwing. Every single day.”
As I inspected Brax’s very close profile I tried to envision him as a little boy. It saddened me to think of him being mistreated, or going without. But I wanted to keep things light right now. I liked the spark I saw in those odd, clear depths. “I bet you were a big ole stinker. Charming your way into the ballpark with those eyes.” I popped in the last bite of sausage and chewed, smothering a grin. “I bet you were all curls and teeth and pure deviltry.”
Brax turned a bit, to directly face me. “So you’re noticin’ my eyes and locks and teeth, huh, Sunshine?”
“Ego, Boston, ego,” I chastised. “We’re in a crowded booth here, don’t forget.”
Brax laughed, shook his head, and draped his arm behind me on the seat rest. “Yeah, I had hair out to fuckin’ here,” he held his hands inches from his head. “Looked like a Wildman. So what about you? How was it growing up?”
I looked at my empty plate. “Like I told you before, my dad left us when I was little, and I don’t remember him at all, really. But I remember after him.” I fidgeted with the paper from my straw. “We all worked hard, even at early ages. My two older brothers, me, and my younger brother. We didn’t have much. But as kids we didn’t know it. My grandpa Jilly had just retired from the Rangers—”
“As in the Texas Rangers?”
I looked at Brax. “That’s right.”
“That’s cool as shit, Sunshine. No wonder he shoots.” He nodded. “Proceed.”
I smiled. “Jilly’s a character—and one of my very best friends. Anyway, he’d just retired and so our income was limited. We broke horses for rich ranchers in the area. Jilly was untouched in his day. He could talk a horse into doing anything. My mom, too, and we’d get horses in from all over the state. My brothers and I were raised in the horse pen.” I shrugged. “We always had food to eat. We always had a Christmas tree. Mom always made us birthday cakes and gave us plenty of love. The only time I really knew we were poor was when another kid at school would tell us so. Make fun of our clothes. Stuff like that.”
“Kids can be mean little bastards.” Brax’s stare scored into me, like he could see deeper into that part of me usually reserved for the limited few and deserving people I’d allow in. As it had numerous times before, his gaze lowered to my mouth and settled there, and subconsciously I pulled my scar between my teeth. When his stare lifted, those eyes had turned rainy, smoky, fiery all at once. The look was so profound it made my breath catch in my throat, and I found I couldn’t look away.
“What about astronomy, Gracie?” he asked, in that raspy voice. “Have you always loved it?”
I smiled then, and found it not so hard to look him in the eye. My stars were his baseball. “My whole life.”
Brax’s eyes softened, then he looked up, slowly exhaled, took his cap off and shoved his fingers through his hair. “Jesus Christ, girl,” he muttered, then replaced his hat and turned to me.
I gave him a puzzled look. “What?”
His smile was again lazy and deep. “You’re just so damned different.”
We continued talking, and it was so easy and enticing and interesting that I’d lost track of all time. Of place, of purpose. We ordered hot cocoa with whipped topping, and talked some more. I could tell Brax skirted some subjects, fell lightly on others. I did the same, though, so I could hardly judge him on that. One thing I knew for sure: He’d experienced a lot of pain at some point in his life. I hadn’t until the summer before my senior year, so I guess I had more to be thankful for than I’d thought. At least I’d had a loving family. I wasn’t too sure Brax had. It’d been one of the subjects he’d eased over like a fresh pond of ice. Barely skimmed it. But I could tell. Could see it in those beautifully haunted blue eyes of his. Maybe one day he’d trust his secrets to me.
Maybe one day I’d trust mine to him.
For now, though, we learned the good stuff. What kept us going. What made us strong. And I was content with that. I think he was, too.
By two in the morning, the waitress interrupted us. “You two love birds want another pot of chocolate? Or do you wanna start on java?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you.” I reached for my bag to get money for my portion of the bill. “It’s so late. I’d better be getting back.”
Brax stilled my hand with his. “I owe you a hundred bucks, remember?” He reached in his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and handed the waitress his ATM card. She smiled at him, deep sun lines sinking in around her mouth and eyes. “That a boy, tough guy.” She winked at me. “Be right back, darlin’.”
We left Hattie’s once she returned Brax’s card, and he walked me to my truck. The early-morning air hung thick, warm but not uncomfortable, and a slight breeze drifted across the parking lot. Everything was quiet, and I fished my keys out of my bag and looked up at him. “Your eye is swelling pretty good,” I said. “Do you have any frozen vegetables?”
Brax stared at me, then laughed. “Jesus, Sunshine, you can’t still be fuckin’ hungry.”
“No,” I smiled. “For your eye. A bag of frozen peas works the best. Melds to the skin better than a couple chunks of ice.”
My back was already to my door; Brax eased closer to me, braced a hand against the truck. “You speakin’ from experience?”
“I’ve had my share of black eyes.” I quirked my head, inspecting the eye that was rapidly closing shut. “You’ll be okay driving home?” He was close to me, leaning slightly in toward my body, and a thrill shot through me that made my insides hum, my skin grow warm. At the same time I was treading unknown waters, feeling unsure of myself, a little scared. This was exactly what I didn’t want starting college; certainly didn’t expect it, either. But was I being completely honest with myself? Hadn’t I secretly and privately craved this? Dreamed I’d meet a guy, one who made me feel so alive?
Desired?
A slow smile and filtered moonlight transformed Brax’s harsh features into something sexy, hungry, attentive. “Sunshine, I could ride that bike blindfolded.” With his free hand he pushed my braid off my shoulder, and ducked his head to better see my eyes. “I’m not going to kiss you yet, Gracie.” His hand reached for mine, and his thumb grazed the ring I wore. His eyes darkened. “But I will. When it’s time.”
I could barely breathe, much less speak. Somehow, I managed. “I believe you.”
To look at Brax this close, after he’d expressed such an intimate confession, made every nerve ending in my body fire at once. It was difficult—yet I couldn’t look away if I’d tried. Etched into his beautiful features were strength, determination, and struggle. Struggle not to kiss me? Did I even dare hope it?
Could I handle it if he did kiss me? Like, a real, intentional kiss?
Brax’s fingers closed around my truck keys, reached around me so close I could’ve laid my head on his chest, and unlocked my door. “Get in, Gracie.” I turned, and he stopped me, and I looked up at him again. “Before I fuckin’ change my mind.”
I eased into my truck, and Brax shut the door. I rolled down the window, started the engine.
“I’ll follow you to your dorm,” he said, then winked. “G’night, Sunshine.”
“’Night, Brax.”
I waited until Brax had straddled his bike and started the engine before I pulled out of Hattie’s. My heart raced and thumped against my ribs the whole way back to Oliver Hall where I parked, got out, and waved goodbye to Brax as he idled, watching me until I’d slid my door key in and entered the common room. I heard the grumble of his pipes as he left the parking lot.
As I jogged up the steps to the second floor, a smile pasted to my face, I noticed my heart was light for the first time in over a year. For once, I felt my life just might change for the better.
12. Breathless
After that night, I felt lighter. Despite having to look at Kelsy every day in humanities, even that tension eased up. He kept to himself and high-tailed it out of class the second it was over. Only occasionally would I catch him looking at me. The expression on his face was unreadable; a mixture of scorn versus longing, I guess. But with Brax beside me, I felt safe. Not so cagey anymore. And Kelsy left me alone. That was a plus in my book.
I began running, too, every morning before anyone else woke up. I ran alone, with just me and my thoughts, and as the days ticked by I felt stronger physically as well. My confidence was higher than it’d ever been. Working at the observatory was a dream. Steven was hysterical and a hard worker, and our shifts usually passed by pretty fast. Our first Night Sky Watch for our astronomy lab was approaching. Fun stuff. Exciting.
It had been almost two weeks since that night at Hattie’s, and Brax’s promise of kissing me still burned in my mind. The way he’d said it so bluntly, and looked at me? Promised? It’d taken me an hour to fall asleep that night. And my God, the way he had called me beautiful? The whole scene replayed in my head a thousand times. His bad-boy reputation be damned. I felt deep into my core he’d meant every word.
He hadn’t kissed me, though. We’d grown closer—saw each other every day, during school and after—yet no kiss. Had he changed his mind? Lord knows I’d never have the courage to kiss him first.
