Page 77 of Playing the Field
“I’m not going to do that.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I shouldn’t have to tell you. You should know. All I asked was what you want.”
I feel the same frustration that used to spike when a teacher would tell me I was “bright but not meeting my potential.” I took it to mean that I was too useless to understand how to be assmart as I should be. “Maybe I’m not that smart. Give a guy a helping hand.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t cop out and pretend you’re not smart because you didn’t go to a fancy college. You read more than anyone I know. You’re intuitive enough to handle any player on the pitch without thinking twice about where the ball will be. Stop being so hard on yourself. I think you can figure out what to say to me without me feeding you lines.”
“But I want to make sure I say the right thing.”
She leans in and makes her voice low. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s getting emotional or she wants to drive home her point. Either way, it gets my attention. “If I give you the words to say, they don’t mean anything.”
I’m out on a ledge without support. This is where I always fuck things up.
I feel the slow creep of anxious tension fill my muscles, the blood heat in my veins. It’s exactly what happens when I’m in a game situation, facing down another player, and something tells me to go hard and take him down, even if it results in a penalty or a red card. It’s a “fight or flight” instinct, and I always want to fight.
Not with her.
It’s true. I don’t want to fight with her, but I don’t have enough other resources in my arsenal. I’m not good enough with words to make my case for why she should be with me instead of a guy with fancy degrees. I only have my instincts, and they’re flawed.
“I want you,” I say.
Her expression softens. “Why?”
I swallow hard, worried I don’t have a good enough answer. “Because I love you.” She inhales a shaky breath, and I think I’m doing okay. But then I look at her, really look at her.
This beautiful, brainy, capable woman is offering me herheart. And with one stupid action in a hallway, I could tear it all down. And she’d let me because she loves me.
I can’t do that to her. She deserves better.
She’s encouraging me to use my words, so I’ll use them. Let’s see how she likes it when all my thoughts spill out unfiltered. All the messy ones, full of doubt and lack of trust. The things I should keep to myself and bury deep. She’s telling me to open up, and I know she won’t like what she sees.
Maybe that’s what urges me on. The desperation to convince her that she’s wrong about me. “I love you so much, Gracie. But that’s an albatross for you, not a gift. I can’t be the one who ruins your career. I’m not worth it.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and her mouth turns down. She tosses the apple on the couch and wraps her knees in her arms. “I hate that you believe that. I can’t be the one to convince you it’s incorrect. You need to know it.” She wipes her tears, but more take their place. With the pad of my thumb, I try to help. She doesn’t fold into me like she normally does.
She sits rigid, protecting herself.
So I back away. “Maybe it’s best if we…cool things off for a bit.”
I don’t know what I’m saying. I don’t know what I’m doing. But somehow, I’m in motion, going to Kyler’s office and throwing a few things into a bag. I’m walking over to Gracie and kissing her temple. And I’m moving to the front door.
I’m walking away.
“I think you’re worth it.” Gracie’s voice is so quiet, I barely hear it. “So I hope you figure it out.”
CHAPTER 39
Gracie
Two WeeksLater
Something looksdifferent when I pull in the driveway, but I can’t put my finger on it right away. It’s probably nothing. My thoughts have been unfocused in the weeks since Hunter and I broke up, so I’ve been missing a lot of details.
At work, I’m generally able to fix my mistakes because the math insists on it. Otherwise, I’d be more worried about turning in bad analytics reports. But my team seems to have their wits about them, and right now, that’s saving my bacon.
Exiting my car, I give the front of the house a once-over. What’s different?
