Page 47 of Entwined Hearts
“It wouldn’t be starting over. It’d be hitting the resume button.” As painful as our ending was, I wouldn’t erase the two years we had together for anything, and refused to just wipe the slate clean as if it hadn’t happened.
“Same thing.”
I narrowed my eyes at her, pretending to think. “Mmm, not exactly. I thought lawyers were supposed to be smart?”
Laughing, she swung her blanket at me. I caught it and pulled until her face was hovering above mine. Her laughter died as her top half fell on top of me. Her hair was draped down over her shoulder, and I couldn’t resist it. I brushed it back behind her ear, letting my fingers skim her jaw. Her breath hitched, her body tensing on top of mine, but she didn’t pull away.
“You don’t need to be scared, angel,” I whispered. “But I understand why you are.”
“You do?” Her voice was quiet, unsure.
I nodded. “You can’t be with me if I stay with PBR.” She tried to pull back, but I slid a hand to her low back, gently keeping her close. “You don’t need to deny it, Sav. I wouldn’t believe you if you did anyway.” Not after the way she broke down in the barn.
“I…” Her eyes searched mine. Her body went limp. “It’s not just that.”
I reached for her hair again, spinning it around my finger like a ribbon. I didn’t even try to resist touching her, especially since she didn’t seem to mind it. “Tell me what else it is, then.”
“Everything. What if we don’t work out again?”
“We will.” It wasn’t optimism or ego or prediction—it was a fact. Just like it was a fact that having her on top of me like this was making it hard to focus on anything but the way she kissed me last week at the Bull Pen.
“You don’t know that. You can’t possibly know that.” She laid down beside me, and I rolled onto my side, facing her. I forced my smile away when she reached across me to pull the blanket over us, and interlocked our hands again.
I felt nineteen again, lying here with her like this. We’d spend hours talking under the stars, sharing our hopes and dreams and…other things. It was here she told me she wanted to be a lawyer, where I told her I loved her the first time, where she encouraged me to go pro.
“Didn’t I tell you? I’m from the future,” I teased, covering up the fact that I wanted to pull her closer, that I was desperate to kiss her.
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Then why do you still look thirty?”
I shrugged. “New technology. Wanted to look sexy for you.”
She deadpanned. “I’m serious, Weston.”
“I’m serious, too. It’s like a metal detector you walk through, really neat.”
She gave me an exasperated smile. “You’re impossible. Give me some of your yarn.”
My playful grin vanished, and I looked up at the sky, searching for courage. I didn’t know how to get the words out. How to tell her I was struggling. I didn’t want her to think that I loved her any less than I did because of it, or doubt me and us more than she already did.
Looking over at her, her eyes were sparkling under the moonlight. They were soft, open, but not too eager. Safe. I was always safe with her, something that my heart sensed faster than my head had all those years ago when I told her about my parents.
“I don’t know if I can give it up,” I finally confessed, the words catching in the back of my throat. “I don’t know who I am without it.”
Savannah’s face softened with empathy. She placed her hand on my cheek, stroking my face tenderly. “No one’s asking you to, baby,” she said, her voice soft yet sure. There wasn’t any judgment or hurt, just understanding. It made me feel even worse.
My eyes drifted shut, holding on to that word, to her touch. She hadn’t called me baby in years, and yet it felt like the first time. I placed my hand over hers, needing the contact. “But I love you so much,” I choked out, my voice shaking. “I don’t know what to do.”
It was more than just the simple act of choosing between her and riding. I was thirty, my body couldn’t take a beating like it used to. Even before the accident, I woke up every morning in pain from years of wear and tear. Most guys were retiring around my age for that very reason, so it wasn't like this decision was coming out of nowhere.
I knew I had a few good years left in me, but after this accident, I’d started to wonder if maybe it was time to hang it up, and Savannah coming back into my life was just another reason that I should.
“You’ll figure it out,” she said, and I opened my eyes, finding her smiling softly. “You always do.”
I swallowed roughly. “Can I hold you?” She tensed, looking at me, unsure. “Please.”
“It won’t hurt your shoulder?”
“No.” Even if it did, having her in my arms would be worth it.
