Chapter 42
CHAPTER
FORTY-TWO
GUNNER
Great. I made it awkward.
I see the light draining from Rebel’s eyes like a dial winding down from a hundred to zero.
What is wrong with me?
She mentioned some other guy giving her his number and dark flames ripped at my chest again. The expression I made must have scared her.
Or did it?
I was extra careful not to show any outward signs of frustration.
Maybe it’s something else?
The scrape of forks against the plates is louder than my roaring heartbeat. Salmon risotto is one of my specialities, but I can’t taste a thing and it’s hard to say if that’s because I did a poor job or because my tongue’s too dry to enjoy it.
Rebel sits across from me, her head tucked against her chest, her eyes locked on her plate. A curtain of hair hides her face from sight. She hasn’t said a word since we started eating.
I beat my head against a proverbial wall, searching for something to say that will put the smile back on her lips and the sunshine back in her eyes.
“Is it good?” I ask, but my voice comes out a little too gruffly and I see her flinch.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, it’s great.” She pushes the rice from one side of her plate to the other, making her statement less convincing.
I scratch the back of my head, at an utter loss on how to save this.
I’m sure that Rebel is upset.
I’m sure that I’m the reason why.
What escapes me is how I should go about rectifying my wrongs.
“Uh,” I reach for the soda and gesture to her cup, “would you like some more?”
“I’m good. Thank you,” she says, as if I’m an overeager waiter who’s visiting the table a little too much.
Hesitantly, I put the drink down.
Silence swirls around us, making it hard to breathe.
Should I just apologize and figure out what I’m apologizing for later?
The plan resonates with me and I open my mouth but before I can say anything, Rebel blurts, “Are you upset with me because I said that guy gave me his number?”
My brows shoot up and my gaze locks on hers in disbelief.
She leans forward, earnestly making her case. “To be honest, I don’t even remember that guy. It happened so long ago. But I know for sure that I wasn’t interested in him at all. Lots of guys give me their numbers, but I never text them back or encourage them.”
“Rebel—”
“I will admit that I might be accused of flirting to get my way sometimes, but that’s only in extreme situations when nothing else has worked and I use that sparingly.”
“Rebel…” I try again.
“I wouldn’t do that now of course. I’m very loyal once I’m in a relationship and I won’t disrespect you or our relationship by doing anything you?—”
I reach out, my index finger brushing her lips, the contact gentle yet electrifying. My eyes lock on hers, pinning her in place and dissolving the remainder of her frantic confession.
“I’m the one who needs to apologize,” I say. And when I’m sure that she won’t interrupt me, I remove my finger from her lips and take her hand instead. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I’m the one with the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve liked you for a long time,” I admit. “And I’ve watched a lot of guys hit on you. Heard even more of them discussing how much they like you and how much they want to be with you. It bothered me a lot, but I couldn’t say anything because…” I gesture to her hand in my mine. “Well, because I couldn’t.”
She nods slowly.
“I thought that, dating you, those feelings would be like a switch I could turn off. I thought other men being interested in you would suddenly not bother me. But that’s not how it’s working out.” I stumble over my words. “I-it still gets to me.”
“Oh, Gunner. I’m not interested in other guys,” Rebel says gently. “You can trust that.”
“I trust you . It’s them I don’t trust.” I glare a hole in the wall, imagining Rodney Howard and Benji making another play for Rebel’s affections. “Even men twice your age talk about wanting you. Phil went on and on this morning.”
Her entire expression brightens with awareness. “I knew I sensed something off when you brought donuts this morning. It was because of Phil?”
“It’s not Phil. It’s me. This is my problem. Not yours. I promise I’ll deal with it on my own. I won’t let something like this stop me from becoming the man you deserve.”
The smile in her eyes falters, melting into a startled vulnerability. “You say the sweetest things, Gunner Kinsey.”
I give her hand a squeeze.
“But,” Rebel continues in a firm voice, “you don’t have to handle this alone. If something bothers you, I want to know. I want us to work through it together. The more you keep it to yourself, the more it festers. A small misunderstanding might turn into a big deal if you don’t talk to me about it. I can’t read your mind.”
“Understood.” I smile slightly. “But I disagree. You seem to understand me without me saying a word.”
She picks up her fork and finally starts eating with gusto. “Well, yeah. I’ve been around you enough that I can pick up on a few things. Like tonight, I sensed you were upset right away, but I didn’t know what you were angry about and it drove me nuts.”
“I’ll work on that too.”
“And I’ll make it abundantly clear that I have a boyfriend. No matter where I am.”
“What if that doesn’t stop them?” I ask with a frown.
“I’ll…” Her eyes roll to the top of her head in thought, “I’ll bark at them or something.” She shrugs. “I’ll figure it out.”
I chuckle.
Rebel laughs too.
Once she’s finished eating, I clear the plates from the table and set them on the counter. Then I let the basin fill with water while I arrange all the dirty plates, pans, utensils and cups.
“You don’t have to wash the dishes. You can leave them there. I’ll get to it later.”
“I got it,” I grunt. Honestly, I feel relieved after our heart-to-heart around the table. I wouldn’t have blamed Rebel for thinking the worst of me when she heard I was struggling with the attention she gets. Her understanding and gentleness makes me want to do more for her.
“Let me help then,” Rebel says. And I expect her to pull on the pink rubber gloves at the side of the sink and rinse.
But instead, her soft arms slide around my waist and she plasters herself to my back.
I look down at where her hands are locked around me and smile, melting like butter in her palm.
“This is how you’ll help?” I ask, twisting around to look at her.
“It’s called ‘moral support’. I can stop if you want…” She starts to unwind her hands and I quickly touch her wrist to stop her.
Rebel settles against me again. As she hides her face in my back, I feel the indent of her smile.
“Sit when you get tired,” I say as gently as I can.
“Mm-hm.”
I get started on the cups first. Rebel’s body is soft against mine and her shampoo fills my nose with pleasant notes of cherries. The thunk of cups hitting the sudsy water and the swish of the cloth is all that can be heard for a few moments.
I feel full enough to burst. With Rebel, I feel extremely happy doing something as ordinary as washing dishes.
“Gunner,” Rebel says.
I look back at her.
“You said you’ve liked me for a long time. How long is that?”
“Still can’t tell you, Bell.”
“Oh, come on,” she whines. “Why is it such a big secret?”
Among all the secrets I’m keeping from her, the exact timeline of my feelings is probably the least complicated. But I still don’t want to reveal it.
“You’re just keeping me in suspense to be dramatic,” Rebel says, sliding away and leaning against the counter. “I’m going to take a guess. Since you said it was a long time, could it be that you liked me the day you asked me to be your fake girlfriend? No, you couldn’t have. We barely spoke to each other then.”
I finish washing the last of the dishes and twist my body toward hers. Arms out, I trap her against the counter.
Rebel backs up, watching me with eyes crinkling at the corners.
“I’ll give you a hint.”
She nods eagerly.
I tilt my head and lean in, stopping a breath away from her lips. “It was before then.”
Her blue eyes, alive with shock, are the last things I see before I swoop in and take control of her mouth. She’s as sweet as the dessert I have stowed away in the fridge and I just can’t get enough.
The angle of the kiss changes and I sense Rebel rising on the tips of her toes to kiss me back passionately. My vision blurs, the edges of the kitchen melting into oblivion as my pulse roars in my ears.
After a while, we both ease away.
Rebel’s breathing hard.
I’m barely breathing.
The air feels heavier, my limbs light enough to float me straight to the ceiling, untethered and lost in the moment.
I rest my forehead against Rebel’s, my heart beating fast.
“Gunner?”
I look at her.
“I really, really like you. And I have for a long time too.”