Chapter 7 #2
My eyes slid over his handsome profile as the sun peeked through the trees to shine on him. I wasn’t sure how he was able to read me so well. It was unnerving. He was unnerving.
I inhaled deeply before saying it aloud. “I want to write a book.”
Lamar turned his head and stared at me. “That’s what’s up. What kind of book?”
“Contemporary fiction.” I shifted my gaze back to the water as I continued. “I’ve been letting this idea bounce around my head for a few years now, and I’d love to write it one day. That’s the dream.”
“What’s the story about?” I felt his eyes on me, but I kept my eyes forward.
“About a woman who overcame a bunch of different obstacles in her life to get her happily ever after.”
“Ah, so it’s a romance.”
My lips curled into a smile. “I mean, yes. But the focal point of the story is that she’s a private investigator. She’s falling in love while getting help on a case. But the story would be equally focused on both aspects of her life.”
“You should do it.” He waited until our eyes locked before he inquired further. “What’s stopping you from writing it?”
“I mean, yeah … you’re right.” I instantly thought about the list my aunt and I had made, and a small smile graced my lips. “I’m going to write over the next couple months. What about you? Do you make time for what’s important to you?”
“My entire day is dedicated to football.”
“Not today.”
“You’re right.” His eyes dipped to my lips. “Not today,” he repeated, his voice softer, sexier. When he met my gaze again, he cleared his throat. “So, why don’t you make time for your book?”
I was unnerved by the moment we’d just shared and words started spilling out of my mouth.
“When I first thought to write a book, I mentioned it to my parents, and they said less than ten percent of authors make a living from their writing. They said that statistically, I wouldn’t make it, and I should pursue something reliable. ”
“Like teaching?” he guessed.
“Like teaching,” I confirmed softly. “So, every time I think to start writing, I question if I’m wasting my time.
I don’t know if anyone would like it. I don’t know if anyone would care about what I have to say.
And somehow, I always manage to talk myself out of doing it because I don’t know if it would be worth it … or if it would be any good.”
“I can’t imagine anything you do not being good.”
My cheeks heated. “You’ve never heard me sing.”
“You can’t sing?”
“Not at all.”
“With that laugh, I should’ve guessed.”
“Hey!” I bumped him with my shoulder as we both laughed. “That’s messed up. This is supposed to be a judgment free zone.” I gestured around. “You can’t bring me to this peaceful place and then judge me.”
“Hey.” He hooked his forefinger under my chin and turned my head to face him. “I would never judge you.”
My stomach fluttered at the intensity of his stare. “I know,” I murmured.
He licked his lips, and his thumb slid across my chin.
A distressed scream echoed from across the river, and the two of us whipped our heads toward the sound.
“Looks like the boat tipped,” Lamar guessed. He pointed to a little shimmering red spot in the water. “There was a small red boat that looked overcrowded floating out there.” He shook his head. “I hope they had life jackets.”
Once I saw where he was pointing, I noticed some reflective orange jackets with heads bobbing in the water. “I think they did. I see some orange over there. I hope they can swim.”
He shook his head. “I would hope so if they’re playing around and doing dumb shit in the river. You know there are no lifeguards over there.”
“No, I didn’t know that.” I frowned. “That’s wild.”
“You grew up down the street from Spring Hill and you’ve really never been to the river?”
“Never. I was working at the library or reading in the gazebo that used to be behind the library or watching football. I was a homebody.” I shrugged. “Besides, bodies of water where I can’t see the bottom freak me out. And not just because I can’t swim.”
He grinned. “Can’t sing and can’t swim. Got it.”
I laughed. “Wait, tell me one of your flaws. You can’t just be listing off mine without providing any of your own.”
“Aight.” He ran his hand down his beard before leaning over to me. “Between me and you, I don’t really fuck with heights.”
“You’re scared of heights?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘scared.’ But…” He started laughing. “Don’t judge me.”
“I’m not judging! Heights can be scary. But it’s just interesting because you’re so tall. I would imagine everything is up high way up there.”
“It is. But if I’m near a ledge or cliff, my center of gravity feels off. If I’m up here and the guardrail is down there”—he shook his head—“it just doesn’t work.”
I considered what he was describing. “That does make sense. Those railings are so low, if you were to topple over, they wouldn’t be much help.”
“Exactly.” He emphasized his point with his hands. “So it’s not really the height, it’s the falling off the cliff. If that makes sense.”
I nodded. “It does. I get that.”
We both watched a bigger boat drag the capsized boat to shore.
In the quiet that settled between us, something shifted.
The clouds covered the sun briefly, and a gentle wind sent a chill down my spine.
The crowd gathered across the river started shouting, and their cheers rang in my ears.
But as I watched what was unfolding, I could barely focus on it.
Lamar was watching me, and I could feel it. I wasn’t nervous, but the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and a flutter swept through my belly. Warmth from his gaze heated my skin, and I basked in the feeling of him studying me. The longer it went on, the more apparent it was that I liked it.
“I’m curious about you,” Lamar stated softly.
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “What are you curious about?”
“Specifically…” He waited until I met his gaze before he continued. “I’m curious about the stuff you don’t say.”
I licked my lips and tried to steady my breathing. “Like what?”
“Like why you agreed to come out with me.”
My lips curled into a slow smile. “Because I like the way I feel around you.”
“And how do you feel?”
“Good,” I answered simply.
With his eyes trained on me, he ran his tongue from one corner of his mouth to the other. “And what are you not saying when you bite your lip like that?”
My face heated immediately. “I don’t always realize I’m doing it.”
He looked me up and down before he met my gaze again. “I don’t know if I believe that. But it’s sexy, so I’ll let you slide because I have another question.”
Sexy. My stomach quivered.
“Ask me anything,” I murmured.
A seductive smirk pulled at his lips. “Anything?”
I nodded again, slowly. “Anything.”
“What’s up with you and the two women from last Friday?”
My eyebrows flew up.
I didn’t expect that question.
“Oh, that was … bullshit.” I shook my head to try to minimize it, but as he continued staring, the words started to just flow out of me. “I went to school with them, and they were bullies—started in eighth grade and continued throughout high school.”
“They seemed like the type,” he acknowledged with a slow nod. “I knew it.”
My face scrunched up in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I knew they were full of shit when they said you were mean and you bullied them.”
“What?” I screeched, the word coming out louder than I’d anticipated.
“They said I bullied them?” My mouth hung open in disbelief.
“They were the bullies! In eighth grade, the taller one liked a boy, and he wanted to be partners with me in our language arts class. So she decided that trying me would be her favorite pastime for the next five years, and she got everyone else on board with her bullshit. They’re the reason I’m not a fan of crowds or of having a lot of attention on me … or being in Chance at all.”
“Just based off the conversation I’d had with you in that short amount of time, I knew they were lying. And if you were mean to them, it was because they deserved that shit.”
My eyes were wide. “I want to say that I can’t believe they’d lie on me to someone they don’t even know, but honestly, I can. They were shitty kids, and they grew up to be shitty adults.”
“They even went as far as to say you beat them up.”
I cringed. “Oh, well, uh…” I scratched my temple. “See, what had happened was…”
“Oh shit!” he bellowed, before bursting out laughing. “You beat them up?!”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” I grabbed his arm in an attempt to stop his hooting and hollering. “Listen! Hear me out.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Senior year, Olivia and her minions were talking shit and then tripped me in the hallway and kicked my books. No one stepped in to help me, so I hopped up and beat her ass.” My lips curled upward slightly at the memory.
“They tried to jump me a few months later, but I handled business. So they wanted to press charges.”
“And the school allowed that?”
I frowned slightly. “The school allowed Olivia to get away with everything she did.”
The town let Olivia get away with whatever, I thought ruefully.
He nodded. “I can see why you don’t fuck with Chance.”
“They made school life hard, which in turn made life in Chance hard. And my parents…”
We sat in silence for a few seconds.
“Your parents?” he prodded.
“My parents expected perfection.” I forced a smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents. They’re great—smart, successful, loving people. But they are perfectionists, and that’s hard.”
“Perfect doesn’t exist.”
Feeling his words deeply, I bit down on my bottom lip and nodded. “Exactly.”
“Is that why you’re so close to your aunt?”
“Aunt Addy has always related to me in a way my parents didn’t. She always understood me. My parents…” My words got caught in my throat, so I just nodded until I could continue. “My parents understood perfection.”
“I get that,” he replied. “My dad wasn’t the typical football dad.
He instilled the love of football in me.
I’ve been playing since I was five. But when I didn’t have practice with the team, he had drills for me to run at home.
I worked until I got it right. He’d always say to do the work so that when it matters, you get it right the first time.
He wanted me to be perfect on the field.
He wouldn’t accept anything less.” A small smile played on his lips as he shook his head.
“It was tough growing up with that mindset. So I get where you’re coming from. ”
“That made you closer to your mom?”
“Yeah.” He paused. “But also, my dad died when I was fourteen, so all I had was my mom.”
I gasped, grabbing his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
He covered my hand with his, allowing his thumb to stroke my skin. “It’s been twelve years. It’s okay.” He leaned closer to me, staring into my eyes. “But thank you.”
“It makes sense.” The words slipped out of my mouth before I realized it.
His eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What does?”
“It was your dad who fostered your love of football, and you work with football players. You’re creating a program to help them, and you’re passionate about making sure they get it right the first time.
After all the pressure he put on you, you’re helping to alleviate some pressure from others.
I can’t help but think that your dad’s influence is all over that. ”
His fingers stilled, and he just stared at me.
He looked like he was going to kiss me, but instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against my forehead. He rose to his feet and then extended his hand toward me. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Grabbing the blanket, he held me tight to ensure I didn’t slip on the stones as we made our way to the SUV. Even though we were on solid ground, he didn’t let go of my hand. He hit a button on his key to open the liftgate. Just as we approached the vehicle, I had to break the silence.
“What I said back there…” I said quietly, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry.”
He tossed the blanket in the back and turned to me, pulling me in close. “Stop.”
“I overstepped—”
Without warning, he leaned down, pressing his full, soft lips against mine. He stopped my sentence and my heart with that kiss. With my eyes closed and his mouth on mine, nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. My mind went blank, and warmth coated and filled me.
I’d never experienced a kiss like it.