Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Cordelia
Tough girls don’t need hugs.
Or sweet words.
Or affection.
Tough girls don’t need to be held like they’re glass or have their heads rubbed to a gentle cadence.
Tough girls don’t believe it when people say they’ll never let go.
So when Renthrow hugs me, I know I should push him off and reinforce the facade I’ve upheld for all these years.
This gentleness feels so foreign to me. Like I should remind him of who I am. Like maybe he’s mistaken. Maybe he thinks he has the other sister in his arms.
I’m Cordelia Davenport.
I don’t need to be coddled and spoiled. I don’t need to be pitied and fussed over.
But as Renthrow’s arms cross around the back of my neck to push me farther into the crook of his neck and shoulder, as his large hand soothes my hair—I can’t do it.
The Delia who spent her entire life alone, watching from the sidelines as everyone crooned and clapped for Gwen, who hardened herself after too many hurts, who welcomed the callouses on her fingers and on her heart—doesn’t have the strength.
She’s—I’m tired.
So tired of being tough.
Closing my eyes, I wrap my arms around his waist and allow Renthrow to hold me. His chest is hard and firm beneath my cheek. He smells like sweat, cologne, and a subtle fragrance that I caught when I was at his house. Something warm and woodsy. I can’t help but take a dragging inhale.
That firm, steady hand moves up and down over my hair. He doesn’t say anything, and yet, he’s saying so much.
You’re okay.
I’m here.
I’m not going anywhere.
I let that comfort wash over me for longer than I should. But eventually, I remember where we are and that his teammates and Gordie could walk out at any time.
Taking a centering breath, I whisper against his chest, “I’m fine now.”
To my surprise, his arms tighten around me, pressing my face farther into his chest.
“I’m not,” he rumbles, and I feel the vibration of those words from his bones.
I let out a surprised little squeak as Renthrow gathers me up by the small of my waist and presses me even closer.
It hurts to be squeezed this much, but it’s a nice kind of ache. The emptiness I didn’t even realize I had is slowly being filled with every python-like squeeze.
“I was afraid something happened to you on the road. I imagined the worst…” His voice trails like the thought of me getting into an accident is too terrifying to immortalize with words.
I pat his back in comfort. “As you can see, I’m here in one piece… Gergh!” I wince as he squeezes again.
He’s too strong.
I have to tap out.
“Renthrow,” I squeak, “I can’t…breathe.”
Renthrow grunts in surprise, and his arms immediately fall away from me. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I mumble awkwardly.
He winces. “Gordie always tells me that I hug too hard.”
“Oh.”
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, no. It’s fine.” I look away and brush my hair behind my ear.
Goodness, I probably look crazy. Do I have helmet hair? Is my face red from the wind? I rake my fingers through the black strands, hoping that I don’t look too awful.
Renthrow seems just as uncomfortable as I feel. He scratches the back of his head. “Uh…”
The door of the stadium slams open, and Renthrow’s mom bursts out, bellowing. “The frog is gone! Everyone can come out now!”
She’s yelling loud enough to wake the dead.
Behind her, a sea of people pours from the stadium. The rude teacher who stole the last of the imported grapes is among them.
“What frog?” the teacher demands, looking at the steps outside the stadium. “I don’t see anything.”
“It was a huge thing. Terrifying.” As she speaks, the older woman’s eyes connect with mine, and she leaks a tiny smile.
I stiffen as a bleak realization fills my head. Did Renthrow’s mom see us hugging in the parking lot?
How mortifying.
Thankfully, Gordie spots me and comes running over. “Delia!”
“Hey!” I spread my legs a little wider so I’m balanced when she makes contact. The little one comes flying at me and wraps her arms around my neck.
I…can’t…breathe.
So cutting off circulation is not just a Renthrow thing.
“Gah,” I squawk, and my tongue gurgles out of my mouth like a lizard.
“A little gentler, Gordie. She can’t breathe,” Renthrow scolds. As if he wasn’t cutting off my circulation ten seconds ago.
“Where were you?” Gordie demands, pouting as she falls back. “We were supposed to watch the game together.”
“I was riding and lost track of time,” I explain apologetically.
“Really?” Her attention skips to the bike, and her eyes glitter.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Renthrow says, positioning himself between his daughter and the motorcycle.
“Delia, what a wonderful surprise!” Renthrow’s mother waddles up to me. “What are you doing this afternoon?”
“Well, I—”
“Perfect! You should join us for lunch. Renthrow’s taking us out of town to a new arcade that opened up an hour or so from here.”
My eyes dart to Renthrow nervously. “I mean, I—”
“Yes, let’s go! Let’s go!” Gordie tugs me to her dad’s car. “Sit here!”
I chew on my bottom lip, debating the wisdom of spending the afternoon with Renthrow.
At that moment, the door on the opposite side of the car pops open, and the teacher grins at Gordie.
“Can I come?”
Gordie kicks her legs. “Okay!”
Without a second’s hesitation, the woman folds herself into the backseat and situates her flowery dress around her legs with a nonchalant expression.
I narrow my eyes. Who invited you?
A thin shadow falls over me, and I find Renthrow’s mom also glaring at the teacher.
When she sees that I’m looking, she puts on a sweet smile. “Delia, can you switch places with me? I don’t like being so close to the air conditioning.”
The teacher sits up eagerly. “I’ll go to the front, Brenda.”
“You stay there, Miss Potts,” Brenda orders, pointing a firm finger.
Renthrow gets into the car without looking at anyone in the backseat. “Everyone ready?”
Prickles of awareness slide down my skin when I hear his voice. What’s going on? My heart is thumping like I’m riding a roller coaster.
My eyes land on Renthrow’s giant arms shrouded in the team’s jersey. No wonder hugging him had felt like being hugged by a bear. He’s so…big.
And hot.
And kind.
And sweet.
I don’t think I should sit next to him.
“I don’t like sitting at the front,” I mutter.
“I’ll go.” The teacher scrambles out of her seat.
“Nonsense.” Firm, wrinkled hands wrap around my arm, and I’m hefted out of the backseat like a rotten sensor from a car engine. “Go, go.” Brenda gives me a shove, and I have no choice but to fall into the front seat with Renthrow.
“Hey,” he says quietly to me, starting the car.
I blink slowly. “Hey.”
“Let’s go!” Gordie screams, wiggling her feet with excitement.
Renthrow turns to his daughter. “I didn’t get a chance to shower, so I’ll stop by the house to change first.”
“Okay!” Gordie chirps.
The teacher picks up Gordie’s hand. “Gordie, maybe while we’re at your place, you can show me that telescope your dad bought you.”
“Okay, Miss Potts!” Gordie grins. “Delia, you should see it too.”
“Sounds fun.” I chuckle nervously.
The car takes off.
Renthrow and I don’t speak to each other, but thanks to Gordie, there’s not a silent moment. I’m given a play-by-play of every move that I missed during the game.
“Viking played amazingly. As always,” Miss Potts croons, sliding her hand down Renthrow’s shoulder as she speaks.
My eyes lock on that hand, and I want to slap it away so badly that my fingers tremble.
Thankfully, Renthrow jerks away like he’s being bitten by a mosquito.
“No, he didn’t. Daddy played awful today,” Gordie says chirpily.
“Gordie!” Renthrow’s mom exclaims.
Renthrow’s ears go red.
“Daddy says we shouldn’t tell lies even if it makes other people feel good.”
“I…did tell her that.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Miss Potts insists. “Viking read the plays as well as McLanely today.”
“Daddy was too slow. He kept looking at the door. I think he was looking for you, Delia!” Gordie declares.
Renthrow starts coughing loudly. “Is anyone else feeling cold? I’ll wind down the windows. Let in some breeze.”
He sets the windows down, and the wind roars in, making conversation impossible.
Miss Potts looks aggravated as she scoops her hair back and tries to keep the flyaways under control. But I smile to myself and turn my face to the wind.
At the house, Renthrow disappears while Gordie runs up to her room to get her telescope. Brenda patters away on a call while I stay in the living room with Miss Potts.
The woman gives me a saccharine grin. “Hey, what was your name again?”
Translation: Who are you to this family, and why are you here?
“I’m Cordelia.” I smile back. My days of schmoozing with CEOs for the company’s interests are coming in handy. I can be just as passive-aggressive as anyone. “We met at the mart a while ago.”
“Oh, right.” The smile remains while her eyes turn sharper. “The grapes. They were so tasty.”
Translation: I’m not sorry at all, and I’m rubbing it in your face.
“It’s alright. The mart got in a new set the week after.” My chest bellows with a sigh. “You’re so dedicated, Miss Potts. I don’t remember any of my elementary school teachers spending Sundays with me and my family.”
Translation: You think you’re being slick? This is weird, clingy behavior.
“I love all my students, but I have to admit, Gordie and I have such a special relationship. Maybe it’s because of how close I am with her father.
Viking and I went to high school together and have been friends for years.
” She patters to the kitchen like she owns the place and opens a cupboard. “Water?”
I watch her rummage around, opening different cupboards.
“The cups are over there,” I point and offer a smug smile.
That’s right. I’ve been here plenty of times to know how Renthrow organizes his kitchen.
Miss Potts’ smile freezes comically. “Right. Well…” Her shoulders relax. “Renthrow normally takes care of things like that. You know how he is. Such a homemaker. It’s rare to find a man like him.”
“Yeah, very rare.” I join her forced laughter with my own.
“So, Cordelia”—Miss Potts presses her lips together and looks me up and down—“I heard you were dating the man who works for your mom’s company.”
“Brennon? No, he and I are just friends.”
“Oh.” Her eyelashes flutter rapidly. I can sense her desperation when she asks, “Are you seeing anyone?”
“Are you?” I push the question back on her.
She giggles in a high-pitched voice. “There just aren’t enough good men to go around. But I do have my eye on someone.”
“He must be flattered,” I say, blinking innocently.
“He’s oblivious, as most men are. But I have a feeling that things are about to turn around. As long as no one interferes.”
Anger seeps through my veins.
My nostrils flare. So you’re just being obvious then? Telling me to back off?
I want to fire back a response, but Gordie comes bounding down the stairs with her telescope, and Mrs. Renthrow comes into the living room too.
“Look, isn’t it cool?” Gordie squeals as she points to her small, pink telescope. It might be tinier than the real deal, but it looks solid. Renthrow doesn’t scrimp when it comes to his daughter.
“Wow. You could bring this in for Show and Tell, Gordie!” Miss Potts exclaims.
“Yeah!” Gordie screams in excitement.
“And when you do, you could share with the class all about stars.” The teacher gently steers Gordie away from me and into the living room.
“I could show everyone pictures of the Science Museum too!” Gordie bobs her head up and down.
Miss Potts sits cross-legged on the floor, and Gordie sits with her, looking totally and completely at ease as they talk.
I watch them and feel a strange sense of disquiet. Apart from the moments she has her claws out for Renthrow, Miss Potts possesses that ever-elusive something that Gwen had. It’s more than mere beauty. It’s this…gentleness…that skipped me entirely.
I don’t question for a second her affections toward Gordie. It’s obvious that she cares deeply for her, and Gordie seems happy around her teacher too.
Of course, she would be.
What am I doing fighting over Renthrow? What matters to him—more than anything in the world—is Gordie.
I can exchange cloaked punches with Miss Potts all day, every day, but when it comes to this arena, when it comes to being a mother to someone, I’ve already lost the fight…
Because I wouldn’t dare get into the ring in the first place.