Where the Road Takes Me
Page 57
He sniffed and wiped his face on my shoulder. The wetness from his tears seeped through my shirt. “Because I don’t deserve that, Chloe. If you push me away, I’ll leave, and I’ll never come back. I won’t ever call you; I won’t ever breathe your name again. I know that’s how you’ve lived your life—wanting to be invisible, so I’ll give that to you. But you should know that that’s not what I want. And I don’t think that’s what you want, either. I think you’re afraid. I think you realize how close we’ve gotten and how deep our feelings are getting, and you got scared. And you pushed me away because that’s what you’re used to.”
I swallowed down the words I wished I could say. The ones that would tell him that I was afraid that I might have cancer. The ones I couldn’t voice, no matter how much I wanted to. Because I wasn’t ready. And because they would change everything.
I blinked.
Tears fell.
“Chloe.” He placed his finger on my chin and made me face him. And when I did—the walls around me crumbled. And so did I. I wailed into his chest, gripping his shirt tight, holding on to him. When I’d calmed down, he held the side of my face and tilted my head up. “So you have to tell me. What do you want? Do you want me? Do you want us? Do you want more?”
I nodded.
But he still looked unsure.
I squared my shoulders and held his head in my hands. “Yes, Blake. I want you. I want us. I want a future. I want a forever with you.”
And even through his own tear-filled eyes, he managed to smile. A smile that took all the hurt, all the pain, all the anguish, and buried it deep in my past.
A smile that turned my world red.
It had never really made sense when he’d explained it in the past, but I finally got it.
Blake Hunter—he was my red-letter day.
“Can I kiss you now?” he said.
I let out a relieved laugh. “Please.”
And just like his smile—his kiss took all the pain away.
“Blake?” I pulled back slightly.
He kept his eyes closed. “Yeah?”
“Last night—”
“Never happened.”
“But I was—”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Love me when I least deserve it, because that is when I need it the most.
He tensed when he read my magnet aloud. Then he placed his magnet right next to mine. “Ready?” he asked.
“Yeah, babe. I’m ready.” I took one more look at his magnet before picking up my bag and walking out of the room.
You can run, you can hide, you can choose not to see, but where the road takes you will always lead to me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Blake
She was wearing the blue Duke jersey, my name and potential number on the back, and I’d never wanted to play for Duke as much as I did right now.
“Should we just skate down? It’s only half a mile to the pier.”
“Whatever you want, babe.” But I was already pulling our boards out of the trunk.
I skated to the pier. She held on to my shirt and rolled along behind me. There was a street art show going on, and she wanted to check it out. I’d do whatever she wanted.
“I wish I was good at art,” she said from next to me.
“Have you tried it?”
She shrugged. “Not really. I just can’t do anything creative.”
And it struck me then, that even though we’d spent all this time together, I really didn’t know much about her at all. “What do you do?” I asked.
She laughed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, when you’re not with me, skating, or practicing shots from the three-point line. What’s your deal?”
She shrugged. “Not much, really. I don’t really have any hobbies, if that’s what you mean.”
“Yeah.” I followed her to the next artist—a chalk drawer. “But there must be something you like to do . . . or are good at. Something?”
“Not really.” She dropped some change into the dude’s hat.
“I call bullshit. I bet you sing or play guitar or something phenomenal.”
She laughed. “No, Blake. I really do nothing.” She started walking toward an ice-cream truck, but stopped a few feet away and turned to me. “Maybe it was because I was fostered or something. Like, I didn’t want to do anything permanent, because I didn’t know if I would be permanent.” Her eyebrows bunched, and she pursed her lips. Then sadness washed over her features. “Maybe it was because I didn’t think I’d be around long enough to enjoy it.” She shook her head. “That sounds so stupid.”
“Baby, it’s not stupid.” I hugged her with one arm, the other busy carrying both our boards. “I get it, though—why you would be like that. Maybe it’s time we find something for you.”
She pulled back and looked up at me. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we’re always fucking around with the skating and the basketball. Maybe we find something you like and do it together. We can learn together. You like music? We can buy guitars. You want to learn magic? We’ll buy a—”
“I like you,” she cut in. She smirked and placed her hands under my shirt, fingers splayed flat against my stomach. “Can I learn you?”
“You’re changing the subject and avoiding talking about this.”
She pouted and dropped her hands. “Why does it matter?”
“Because,” I said. “It matters because you deserve to have something of your own. To want something for yourself. Even if it’s not forever.”
“Okay, Blake.” She nodded. “I’ll think about it. I’ll do it for you.”
I sighed. “Babe, I want you to do it for you. Not for me or anyone else.”
“Okay,” she agreed. Then her gaze moved toward the ice-cream truck. I watched as her eyes narrowed and a glare appeared.
“Chloe?”
She jerked her head toward the truck. “That girl won’t take her eyes off you.”
“And?”
“And it’s pissing me off.”
I chuckled.
“Wrong time to laugh, asshole.”
I laughed harder.
She gripped my arm. “Oh my God,” she gasped.
I swallowed down the words I wished I could say. The ones that would tell him that I was afraid that I might have cancer. The ones I couldn’t voice, no matter how much I wanted to. Because I wasn’t ready. And because they would change everything.
I blinked.
Tears fell.
“Chloe.” He placed his finger on my chin and made me face him. And when I did—the walls around me crumbled. And so did I. I wailed into his chest, gripping his shirt tight, holding on to him. When I’d calmed down, he held the side of my face and tilted my head up. “So you have to tell me. What do you want? Do you want me? Do you want us? Do you want more?”
I nodded.
But he still looked unsure.
I squared my shoulders and held his head in my hands. “Yes, Blake. I want you. I want us. I want a future. I want a forever with you.”
And even through his own tear-filled eyes, he managed to smile. A smile that took all the hurt, all the pain, all the anguish, and buried it deep in my past.
A smile that turned my world red.
It had never really made sense when he’d explained it in the past, but I finally got it.
Blake Hunter—he was my red-letter day.
“Can I kiss you now?” he said.
I let out a relieved laugh. “Please.”
And just like his smile—his kiss took all the pain away.
“Blake?” I pulled back slightly.
He kept his eyes closed. “Yeah?”
“Last night—”
“Never happened.”
“But I was—”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Love me when I least deserve it, because that is when I need it the most.
He tensed when he read my magnet aloud. Then he placed his magnet right next to mine. “Ready?” he asked.
“Yeah, babe. I’m ready.” I took one more look at his magnet before picking up my bag and walking out of the room.
You can run, you can hide, you can choose not to see, but where the road takes you will always lead to me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Blake
She was wearing the blue Duke jersey, my name and potential number on the back, and I’d never wanted to play for Duke as much as I did right now.
“Should we just skate down? It’s only half a mile to the pier.”
“Whatever you want, babe.” But I was already pulling our boards out of the trunk.
I skated to the pier. She held on to my shirt and rolled along behind me. There was a street art show going on, and she wanted to check it out. I’d do whatever she wanted.
“I wish I was good at art,” she said from next to me.
“Have you tried it?”
She shrugged. “Not really. I just can’t do anything creative.”
And it struck me then, that even though we’d spent all this time together, I really didn’t know much about her at all. “What do you do?” I asked.
She laughed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, when you’re not with me, skating, or practicing shots from the three-point line. What’s your deal?”
She shrugged. “Not much, really. I don’t really have any hobbies, if that’s what you mean.”
“Yeah.” I followed her to the next artist—a chalk drawer. “But there must be something you like to do . . . or are good at. Something?”
“Not really.” She dropped some change into the dude’s hat.
“I call bullshit. I bet you sing or play guitar or something phenomenal.”
She laughed. “No, Blake. I really do nothing.” She started walking toward an ice-cream truck, but stopped a few feet away and turned to me. “Maybe it was because I was fostered or something. Like, I didn’t want to do anything permanent, because I didn’t know if I would be permanent.” Her eyebrows bunched, and she pursed her lips. Then sadness washed over her features. “Maybe it was because I didn’t think I’d be around long enough to enjoy it.” She shook her head. “That sounds so stupid.”
“Baby, it’s not stupid.” I hugged her with one arm, the other busy carrying both our boards. “I get it, though—why you would be like that. Maybe it’s time we find something for you.”
She pulled back and looked up at me. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we’re always fucking around with the skating and the basketball. Maybe we find something you like and do it together. We can learn together. You like music? We can buy guitars. You want to learn magic? We’ll buy a—”
“I like you,” she cut in. She smirked and placed her hands under my shirt, fingers splayed flat against my stomach. “Can I learn you?”
“You’re changing the subject and avoiding talking about this.”
She pouted and dropped her hands. “Why does it matter?”
“Because,” I said. “It matters because you deserve to have something of your own. To want something for yourself. Even if it’s not forever.”
“Okay, Blake.” She nodded. “I’ll think about it. I’ll do it for you.”
I sighed. “Babe, I want you to do it for you. Not for me or anyone else.”
“Okay,” she agreed. Then her gaze moved toward the ice-cream truck. I watched as her eyes narrowed and a glare appeared.
“Chloe?”
She jerked her head toward the truck. “That girl won’t take her eyes off you.”
“And?”
“And it’s pissing me off.”
I chuckled.
“Wrong time to laugh, asshole.”
I laughed harder.
She gripped my arm. “Oh my God,” she gasped.
