Page 32 of False Start
“What’s wrong?” Mom asks as we clean up takeout leftovers a neighbor brought over. “You’re sighing a lot.”
“Am I?”
“Yes,” Zina replies. “Like a million times.”
“It’s been two hours since practice let out, but I haven’t heard from Bryant. I think I messed up.”
“Is this about what we talked about last night?” Mom asks.
“Yeah.”
“He told you he was giving you space, and yet he still woke and cooked breakfast for you this morning. I think it says how he really feels. He’s been very giving in the short time you’ve been, erm, dating. I think it’s time you give back some, even things up a bit.”
I cock my head to the side and take her in. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, if you haven’t heard from him, be the one to reach out with a call, or even better, a surprise visit.”
“He’s in Baton Rouge.”
“You have a car and it’s barely over an hour’s drive.”
I don’t have an argument for that, but I try anyway. “And what if he’s not talking to me, and I show up at his place out of the blue? I will have driven all the way for nothing. Worse? What if he’s with a girl, and it’s why he’s not communicating. If I show up, things will get awkward fast.”
“Pussy,” Zina says.
I bite my lip and look to my mother for help.
“Zina’s right,” she says. “You’re letting your fear control you. The real question, sweetheart, is do you want to be with him? If so, get in your car and go. Text us when you land.”
“But…”
“No,” Zina argues. “You heard Mom. If you want him, you have to be willing to go more than halfway sometimes. Bryant is in Baton Rouge. He’s not with another girl, because the guy is insanely obsessed with you. All you have to do is show or tell him how you feel, and he’s yours. He wants you. You want him. He chose you. Are you going to choose him?”
I don’t waste a second picking up my purse and keys from the bar and kissing my mom and sister goodbye. They wish me luck and ask for a report as soon as I’ve arrived. I drive faster than I should, making the drive in an hour.
I pull into the drive of the home he shares with Ben and park beside Bryant’s truck. Ben’s car isn’t here, so I hope Bryant isn’t with him. I could be waiting all night. I take a few deep breaths and disembark my Jeep. Here goes nothing.
At his front door, I ring the doorbell and wait. And I wait some more before pressing the button again. This is stupid. I shouldn’t have come here. It’s probably best he doesn’t know I came desperately pining after him. Pathetic.
I turn and go to my car after I finish berating myself for thinking this was a good idea. After turning the ignition over, I back out of his drive.
“Zhanna!” he yells, and I slam on the brake.
He walks up to my vehicle and taps on the window. I roll it down, and then my tongue almost falls out of my mouth. There’s no denying he just woke. His hair is rumpled, he’s shirtless, and his shorts ride low on his hips.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were sleeping. I’ll just go.”
“What? No. Park and come in, babe.” I hesitate. “You okay, Coach?”
“I…” I start and stop several times. “Do you like to dance?”
His brows knit in confusion. “Yeah, with the right girl.”
Stop being a chicken shit, park your damn car, and go inside al-fucking-ready.
I hesitate for a few more beats before I listen to myself and park my car. Bryant walks back down the drive alongside me and runs his hands through his hair.
When I’ve come to a stop, he opens my door and offers me his hand as I step down, and he continues to crowd my space. I crane my head back to look up at him. “Are you okay? I mean, I know you aren’t okay, but…”
