Page 81 of Fighting Spirit

I gotta get this done, then I can tell my girl exactly where I stand.

I’m not able to check my phone until we’re at the bar. I’d rather be doing pretty much anything else, but I was very clearly told I was not allowed to hang out in my hotel room. It’s some dive bar with sticky floors and cracked leather in the booths, but they have good beer, and the owner agreed to keep the kitchen open for another half hour so we could eat.

Almost as soon as I’ve sat down with my drink, I pull my phone out of my bag, my fingers tripping over the screen in my hurry to open up my messages. I’m greeted with a flurry of texts, one timed right after I last messaged Ruth, another just after the game ended, and another string from about an hour ago.

RUTH

I mean, I hope so :)

Ruth

Congrats! Your butt was definitely the highlight.

Ruth

You good?

I’m sorry if I was weird earlier

I know we haven’t had the whole ‘define the relationship’ talk but I sort of figured that’s where we were at?

Sorry to bombard you, I know you’re probably busy.

I don’t mean to be a ‘clingy girlfriend’

Not that there’s anything wrong with that, most guys only call their girlfriends clingy if they secretly hate them.

I don’t think you hate me, just to be clear

I didn’t mean to lump you in with all other men.

The messages stop after that, but I can feel her panic from seventy-five miles away. I give Darius a quick tap on the shoulder, shooting him an apologetic smile as he huffs at having to get up right after he slid in. I head out the back door to the alley that separates the bar from the shop next to it. Luckily, there’s nobody else out here and I can call Ruth, huddling against the wall to try and avoid the chill.

Ruth picks up on the first ring, and I wonder if she’s been waiting for my call. “Hey.” Her voice is pitched higher than usual, like she’s trying to come off casual.

“Hey there, girlfriend.” I can’t help but grin, loving the taste of the word.

Ruth laughs through a groan and I can just imagine her covering her face with her arms.

“I’m sorry about all that.”

“Don’t be. I like hearing from you.”

“What, you like eight texts in a row?”

“I like as many as I can get.”

That silences her, and I hear her let out a long breath. “Okay,” she whispers.

“I miss you.” I don’t realize how true it is until I say it, but all I want is to see her. It feels crazy to be down this bad after this little time, but I think both of us know there’s been something going on for far longer than either of us admitted.

“I miss you too.”

“I’ll come by when we’re back in Beaufort.”

“Now who’s clingy?”

“I never said I wouldn’t be a clingy boyfriend.”

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