Page 13 of The Love Penalty

“Pillow fights, sleepovers, robbing banks together?”

He nods along seriously, “The whole shebang.” And then he does something.

He grins.

Oh, that grin.

His straight teeth and cute dimples are on full display. This should be illegal.

The waitress brings over our beers and we both take a few gulps before resuming conversation. I really thought this would be awkward if we ever did hang out, but it’s surprisingly easy to talk to Robbie. Maybe that’s why I blurt exactly what’s on my mind, “Why did you take that punch for me?”

I think my bluntness may have shocked him because he pauses mid drink. It takes him a second to place the glass back on the table and glance back at me. “I, um—I didn’t do it for you. Not exactly.”

He didn’t? That’s good, right?But then, why?

Oh...

Oh.

My face is beet red with embarrassment and I avoid looking at him as I say, “Oh, of course. You were helping your friend. Sorry, I just assumed?—”

“No, it wasn’t just that.” My eyes jump back to his face now. “I—of course I jumped in for you. I just mean I would have done it regardless if it was you, or Ashton, or the other ref, because that guy Mitchell is an asshole and no one deserves to be treated with such disrespect,” he says hotly, “especially not you.”

“You still think that? After I was so rude to you?” I ask.

“You weren’t rude, you were establishing boundaries. I’m sorry I didn’t accept that the first time around. You said you didn’t want to be friends and I should have let it go. Instead, my ego was hurt and I kept pressing the matter,” he clarifies.

“What if I changed my mind?” I say, my eyes not leaving his.

“About being friends?” he asks with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“Yeah.” I swallow and wait for his reply.

After a moment he asks, “Why?”

“Self preservation?” I say jokingly.

“You don’t have to humor me just because I had your back out there tonight. I’ll do that any time, because it’s the decent thing to do,” he says seriously.

“I’m not humoring you. I get it now, Robbie. You’re a good guy and I can see you’d be an amazing friend. Truth is, I don’t have many of those. Definitely not ones close to my age. And it’s hard to let new people in. My best friends are my seventy-year-old grandma and my fifty-five-year-old mentor, Jack. Isn’t that depressing?” I scoff.

He smiles and cocks his head, assessing me, trying to see if I’m lying.

“I’m not kidding,” I say.

His eyebrows raise and he whistles out, “Okay, mind reader. Well, in that case, I would be honored to be your friend.” I can tell there’s no hint of humor or deception when he says it. I just hope this isn’t a mistake.

ELEVEN

Robbie

Doyou know how sometimes things feel like they’re happening in slow motion? Like everything slows and you can pinpoint the exact moment when a collision is going to happen? That’s how this whole night has felt for me.

When Mitchell turned around and raised his fist, I could see it all so clearly, so I reacted as fast as I could. When I felt Olivia’s hands grab my jacket and spin me around, I saw with clarity how much my life could have changed in that fraction of a second. When I looked into her gorgeous green eyes as she asked me to be her friend, that’s exactly how I felt. Everything slowed and all I could see washer.

The rest of the night felt like a fever dream. We talked about anything and everything. She told me about her grandma and her mentor, and how they are really the only family she has left. I swear she’s finding a way to make tiny cracks in my heart and slither in through them.

I told her about my messy family and my three best friends. I showed her pictures of my cats and she said she always wanted one but her dad was allergic.

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