Chapter 13 #2
Emmy snorts out a laugh, breaking away from Jordan to hug me. “The Miller trusts are already on your desk, and I did all the research on the elective share thing for the clients coming in next week and emailed you the cases I found.”
Pulling back, I stare at Emmy. “Seriously?”
Emmy rolls her eyes and kisses my cheek. “It’s not like I set out to drive you and your procrastination allergy insane. It’s just that I do my best work under pressure. I knew me leaving would stress you out, so against every instinct in my bones, I worked ahead.”
I turn Emmy’s words over and over in my head, and for some reason, for the second time since I got here, I have the strange urge to cry.
A couple minutes later, Jo pushes everyone inside for presents and I hang back to get my shit together—and also to do the thing I’ve resisted doing for the last twenty minutes.
Reaching into my bag, I pull out my phone and immediately unlock it, Drew’s messages popping right up on the screen.
Scanning them, I can’t help but laugh, all my shaky emotions forgotten as I read his words.
Drew
You still there?
Was the crawling thing too much? I mean, you did ask if I would crawl for you, and I’m not in the business of lying.
I quite literally would get on my knees for you if you asked me to and not in the sexy way.
Fine, also in the sexy way but also in any other way you wanted.
Okay, I’m realizing now that maybe four unanswered messages means you’re busy with something. Either that or the crawling thing was actually too much and you’re considering blocking my number again.
Please don’t do that. I like talking to you.
Fuck. Six messages is definitely too many messages. No one should let me have a phone. I clearly don’t know how to use it responsibly.
But also, please don’t block my number. It’s not just that I like talking to you, it’s that I like you.
I’ve never liked a girl before, and I’m not sure what to do.
Anyway, it’s been nice knowing you. I’ll go crawl under a rock or something right now.
Me
You just did a whole thing there, all on your own.
Drew
THANK FUCKING GOD.
I’m so sorry about the million messages. I think aliens took over my body for a second.
Me
Clearly that’s the most logical explanation for sending ten messages in a row.
Drew
They wanted to take me back to their home planet, but I told them I had to stay on Earth to see about a girl.
Me
You passed on a ride in a UFO for me?
Drew
I know, I know, I’m really quite something.
But seriously, I don’t know how to do any of this, and I’ll probably fuck it up more often than I’ll get it right, but yeah. I like you.
Me
Laying it all out on the line there, aren’t you?
Drew
I mean, would it be better if I said I didn’t like you?
Me
I’m really not sure.
Drew
You think about that and let me know.
In the meantime, do you ever come to football games?
Me
Like Renegades games?
Drew
I mean, unless there’s another professional football team in this city I don’t know about? Your cousin is the quarterback and one of your best friends works for the team, but I’ve never seen you at a game.
Me
Sports don’t really do it for me.
I haven’t been to a game in years.
Drew
That’s too bad.
Me
Why is that?
Drew
Because I think I would really like to look up into the stands and see you there.
Preferably in my jersey.
Me
Wear a man’s name on my back? Hard pass, Pretty Boy.
Drew
Not any man’s name. My name, Princess.
We play at home next Sunday. You know, in case you change your mind.
Me
I have a client emergency next Sunday.
Drew
Funny how you know about a client emergency weeks in advance.
Me
I’m really good at my job. My calendar is impeccable.
Drew
Efficient. I like that in a woman.
If for some reason your client decides to reschedule their emergency, consider coming to see a veteran and potentially past his prime wide receiver and his friends kick some serious ass on the field.
Me
You think you’re past your prime?
Drew
Shit. Can we pretend I didn’t say that? Jury will disregard or whatever?
Me
I’m a lawyer and even I know the jury disregards nothing.
Drew
Yeah, I’ve always thought that was a stupid thing to say. Do you think maybe you can forget about it for a while?
Me
I can if it’s what you want. But if you ever do want to talk about it, I’m a good problem solver.
Drew
No doubt about it. But if I talked to you, it wouldn’t be because I wanted you to solve my problems.
Me
Then why would you?
Drew
Because I like talking to you. And I really like the sound of your voice.
I suck in a breath as I read Drew’s words over and over again.
Wrap them around the part of me that wears responsibility like an old, well-fitting coat.
Tuck them in my heart like a talisman of sorts.
A reminder that maybe I don’t always have to be the person I’ve always been.
And I have the sudden urge to give him back a little of what he just gave me.
Brave, I think.
Me
Hey, Drew?
Drew
Yeah, Catie?
Me
I think maybe I might like you too.
Blowing out a breath, I click off my phone and shove it back into my pocket, those eight words I typed filling me with an odd sort of elation. I might regret them tomorrow, but today they feel perfectly right, and I almost laugh at the joy of it.
“I like seeing you smile.”
Whirling around from my place at the railing, I see my dad standing there, watching me with a smile of his own.
“I smile,” I mutter, embarrassed he caught me essentially grinning out at the front lawn.
Taking a step forward, my dad wraps an arm around me and squeezes. “You do,” he agrees. “But not nearly enough and usually not like that.” Turning me to face him, he puts his hands on my shoulders, studying me intently. “Are you happy, Cait?”
I open my mouth to shrug off the question.
To tell him that of course I’m happy. But for some reason, the words won’t come.
Instead, I think about periods and pain and surgery.
The way I’m not sure how to ask for help.
The loneliness I sometimes feel from not letting anyone all the way in and how I sometimes wish I could be someone different than who I am.
But then I think about Drew. About the kiss and the bathroom floor and the way he cooked for me and braided my hair and gave me what I needed without me having to say a word.
The way I opened up a part of myself for the first time ever and it felt weird but also, strangely, like coming home.
The way he looked at me like I was someone, not because I could solve a problem for him but because he seemed to like me just for me, and that was a kind of revelation.
About how I felt when I saw his name on my phone and the way it feels when he looks at me.
Touches me. Seems to want me in exactly the same way I think I want him too. Is maybe a little broken, just like me.
I think there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.
“I haven’t been. But I think maybe I could be now.”
The words come out before I can process them. The absolute, unvarnished truth.
When my dad doesn’t say a word, just wraps his arms around me and holds on tight as the sounds of family filter out through the front door, I sink into his comforting warmth and think that in this moment, the truth isn’t so scary at all.