Page 96 of Rookie Move
“Correct me if I’m wrong. But the last time you pushed Leo away, you regretted it later.”
“Your point being...?”
Her roommate leaned over and gave her shoulder a shove. “Don’t be thick. If Leo gets traded tomorrow, you’ll regret being cold. And if he doesn’t, you’re acting like a freak for no reason. Miss Honey Cove wouldn’t be on the guest list without your help.”
It was hard to argue with that logic. Except for one problem. “But every time I look at him, or let his mom hug me, I want to puke from nerves. And what if he survives these trade discussions, and then they start up again after the play-offs? It never ends.”
“So you justdeal. The next team that’s interested could be the Rangers. They’re across the river. Don’t borrow problems when they’re falling from the sky like a springtime downpour.”
“Speaking of downpours, Hugh just sent meanotherresume for a dude with twice as much PR experience as I have.”
“This calls for dumplings,” Becca sympathized.
“Ain’t that the truth.” She looked down to see the first stripes of purple painted onto her big toe. The color was surprisingly pretty.
***
When Georgia walked down the aisle of the jet that night, Leo watched her with kind eyes. And when they ended upon the same elevator at the hotel, he held the door while she stepped off. This time, Georgia was not at all surprised when their rooms turned out to be adjacent.
“Sleep tight,” he said softly just before her door closed.
Georgia stomped into her room and dropped her bag. Then she went into the bathroom to perch on the bathtub and call Becca. “Really?” she grumbled when her friend picked up the phone. “Again?”
“I just wanted to make sure there were no barriers when you finally come to your senses.”
“He’s so freakingniceto me, even though I’ve basically dumped him,” Georgia grumbled. “How does he do that?” If Leo was going to get traded, she wished it would happen already, putting them both out of their misery.
“Maybe he just isn’t falling for your bullshit.”
“But it’s not bullshit! I don’t want to do this again. It sucks.”
“Then don’t! Just admit to him that you’re scared.”
Georgia very nearly corrected her roommate. Shealmostargued the point. “Iamscared,” she whispered instead.
“Oh, hallelujah. An honest answer.”
“But what does that fix?He’snot scared. We used to be equals. But now I’m always going to be the one who’s worried. It’s still the same old problem. I used to be fearless, until one night I learned how to be afraid.” Her throat closed around the words, so she had to choke out the last few. “And nothing was ever the same.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Becca soothed. “Are you in your room? I’m coming up.”
After Becca disconnected, Georgia just sat there in the hotel bathroom feeling pathetic. There were tears running down her face. Again! She’d spent six years trying to prove she was still courageous. Then Leo Trevi came to town and it took less than a month to demonstrate just how small and cloistered her life really was.
There was a knock on her door, so Georgia left the bathroom to yank open the door. Becca stood there in a hotel bathrobe, her trademark black negligée showing atthe neck. She clutched the sort of tiny wine bottles that came out of the hotel minibar.
“I jump out of airplanes,” Georgia said in what must have seemed like a complete non sequitur.
“That scares the shit out of me,” Becca said, pushing past her.
“But I am the worst kind of fraud.” Georgia yanked the hotel wine glasses off the TV stand and was surprised when Becca laughed.
“You aren’t,” she said kindly. “All that scary shit you do is like a dialogue you have with yourself about bravery. It’s not fraudulent. It’s just not the kind of brave you need right now. That boy is crazy about you. Tell him you might be separated.”
“But...” Georgia swallowed hard. When you’ve been stupid, it’s hard to admit it out loud. “When I was eighteen and out of my mind, I sent him away and he didn’t argue. Is it awful that I was so mad about that? I didn’t think he’d actually just vanish like he did. That’s what I wanted to avoid—him having to make some kind of high stakes decision. I didn’t want to know what he’d choose.”
“So you fired him first,” Becca said. “Thereby guaranteeing your own misery.” She twisted open both bottles. “Overpriced red? Or overpriced white?”
Georgia took the white because she knew that Becca preferred the red.
