Page 9 of Outlaw Heartstrings
An awkward silence falls between us as we stand in the twisted bushes of my new flower garden. I find myself just staring at Alba as she stares at me. I have so many questions.
Why is she dressed in a costume? Is she some sort of performer or something? What happened to all her big dreams?
I glance at her ring finger. No wedding band there. That confuses me. She was dating the pastor’s son back in high school. And they were serious, too. Promise rings and everything.
Fuck you, Christopher ‘Fuckface’ Madison, the third.
I couldn’t stand the guy. He didn’t deserve her. The bloody nose I gave him before leaving town definitely wasn’t enough.To this day, I regret notproperlykicking his ass when I had the chance.
“I’m sorry about your injury,” Alba says, interrupting my ruminations.
Her sympathetic gaze lifts from my injured leg to lock on my eyes. Suddenly, I’m the one about to lose my balance.
Holy shit—this is Alba Anderson in the flesh.
Nine long years since I last laid eyes on her, she’s somehow more beautiful than ever. Shiny copper curls. Freckled button nose. The cute chin dimple. Emerald green eyes that suck you in like a vortex.
To be clear, Alba was always the prettiest girl in town. But one sweeping glance across her face proves that shespent the past nine years getting prettier than any woman has the right to.And those curves?
Again—holy shit.
And when my eyes dip down her body, I have to grip my crutches tighter so I don’t fall on my ass. She has the type of curves that other women would kill for. Her tits are bigger than they used to be. And those hips fill out that tiny skirt in a way that should be in dirty magazines. I have to force myself to not think about her bare ass that was just on display.
Jeez. What is wrong with me? Alba and I are just friends. Or at least, we used to be before she cut me off, cold turkey.
“Injuries happen in my line of work,” I finally answer with a shrug, bringing my thoughts back to my hockey injury.
Alba cringes. “I know. But still, it looked like a really nasty accident.”
The way she says it makes my ego perk up. “You saw it? You watched my game?” An unusual thrill zips through my body at the idea. I’d always feared that I’d been forgotten the moment I left town. It feels good to know that Alba didn’t forget about me.
“Jagger is ahugehockey fan, and—” She starts to say, but she abruptly stops herself mid-sentence. Her lips snap closed. Then she nods, a brick wall closing in around her. “I saw it,” she concludes simply.
Wait. Jagger? Who the fuck is this Jagger?
And what makes him think he’s good enough for Alba?
I don’t even know him but I want to fight him. Jeez—I’m spiraling.
I manage to hold my tongue, but inside, my blood is boiling and my head is working overtime.
After a couple deep breaths, my attention drops to Alba’sbloody leg with a renewed wave of concern. “Come inside. Let’s look at that knee.”
I don’t like to see her hurting. Plus, I find myself grasping at the perfect excuse to catch up with my old friend. It’s been nine painfully long years. I’m dying to know everything Alba’s been doing since high school. And most importantly, why she failed to stay in touch.
“All right.” At first, Alba seems on-board with my offer, even walking across the yard toward the house alongside me. But when we get to the door, her feet suddenly halt. “I…I should go.”
The way her eyes bounce between my front door and the gate she just tumbled over, I get a sense that she’s feeling an urgent need to get as far from me as possible.
“Come on. Just let me get that cleaned up,” I try again. “I promise it’ll just take a few minutes.” Leaning on my crutches, I push open the door and hold it for her to lead the way.
But she refuses, even taking a step backward.
“Please? I promise I won’t bite.” I offer a smile, hoping it comes across as friendly and not desperate. Because I am desperate, and I don’t know why.
All I know is, seeing my old friend has put me in a better mood than I’ve been in for weeks. Is it so bad that I want to hold on to this feeling for just a little while longer?
“I can’t. I…” Her head wags heavily from side to side. “I’m not going in there and tracking dirt and blood all over those restored hardwood floors.”
