8. Holly
EIGHT
HOLLY
“So, you’re some hotshot hockey player.”
I was standing in the doorway to Graham’s apartment. He had the door open wide, his arm straight out. His hair was wet and curly, and he was dressed in a pair of flannel pants and a long-sleeve NCWU hockey shirt. No socks, which somehow made me feel overdressed in my coat and gloves and everything else I’d layered on for the game.
“Not sure about hotshot, but yeah, I’m on the hockey team.”
“You didn’t mention that before.”
“I didn’t think you’d stick around if I did.”
Would I have? I wasn’t anti-athlete. Sure, there were stereotypical athletes that were all about being jocks and using that to get girls, but logically I was aware not all were like that. A few football players were in my finance classes, and they carried small Bibles with them and had started an on-campus Bible study for athletes. So yeah, not all were bad. On the flip side, attention seemed to follow athletes wherever they went, and I tried to stay out of the limelight. Case in point, Piper.
“If you’ve noticed, I haven’t stepped foot inside yet.”
Graham chuckled and stepped back, taking the door with him and swinging it wide open for me. “What are you waiting for?”
Nothing. If his being a hockey player bothered me, I wouldn’t have come. I hadn’t debated if I would or not. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d beaten him to the apartment building because I stayed in my car for twenty minutes waiting for the hour he requested to be up. And then I waited ten more minutes so I didn’t come across as too eager.
I crossed the threshold, and a look of satisfaction flashed on Graham’s face. I had the sudden rush that I’d pleased him, and that only increased when I removed my coat and hung it up on a set of empty hooks he had by his door.
“It certainly does explain a lot.”
His “early” nights. The weekends. I was so used to people letting me down or flat-out lying to me that I’d built too many walls. It was too far ingrained in my nature to suspect wrongdoing everywhere I turned. Looking back, Graham had been honest with me. Sure, he’d kept things to himself, but I bet if I had tried to get to know him more, really dive in, he would have told me.
“If it helps, I didn’t like not being fully honest with you.”
“Like you said, we all have closets full of secrets. Was that yours?”
He rocked back on his heels, and for the first time since we’d met, he seemed uncomfortable. Like the question was diving in too deep. “One of them?”
He chewed his bottom lip. Did he want me to ask? Avoid it?
My curiosity was rising, but there were things I’d have to tell him if I wanted to keep seeing him, and I wasn’t ready for all of that. So avoidance it was.
Maybe I’d wait and see how the night went. I could always block him tomorrow.
“You mentioned dinner,” I said, and relief washed through him, loosening the muscles around his eyes I hadn’t realized had tightened and fell from his shoulders. “Are you going to feed me, or are we going to keep standing here?”
He chuckled and grabbed his phone. “Chinese? Pizza? Something else?” He waved his phone. “The world is our oyster…or whatever restaurants are available for delivery.”
“Chipotle.” As soon as I said it, my stomach rumbled.
“Guess I don’t have to ask if you’re sure,” Graham said, laughing at me as I covered my stomach.
“Sorry. But chips and salsa and a massive burrito sound incredible right now.”
He tapped on his screen, opened the app, and then handed me his phone. “Here. You order first.”
“You’re just handing me your phone?” I had my palm up, waiting for it, but…really?
Graham shook his head, and his dark hair swayed and swooshed with the movement. His eyes glimmered with amusement. “I don’t have secrets, Holly. I have things I haven’t told you yet, but the main word is yet.”
“You’re not asking about mine.”
“Just because you have things you haven’t told me yet , doesn’t mean you won’t. I figure I have to earn the honor of your trust first, so yeah…maybe that starts with you having access to my phone. But don’t snoop for too long. I’m starving.”
“Right.” Of course. Because this was a Chipotle order, not unfettered access. Still, the urge to snoop slithered to my fingertips. Who did he Snap the most? How often did he and his mom talk? Or his dad? Did he have siblings?
They were probably all off doing equally amazing things like playing college or professional sports and being doctors or something. Maybe lawyers or engineers.
Was Piper at the top of any of those lists?
All the questions chased each other, giving me no break from my insanity and paranoia—at least I realized it—while I put in my order. I forewent a soda, figuring he had water and that was good enough for me, but threw in a large order of both queso cheese and guac.
I let him know as I handed the phone back to him.
“Extra food but no snooping?”
“You’re right here,” I drawled. “If I’m going to snoop, I’m not going to do it while you can watch.”
“Shame…I’d like to see your reaction to my internet history.”
A blush hit at the insinuation, and Graham’s face went serious for a moment. Then two before he wiggled his brows.
“I…um…I don’t need to see that…” I stuttered out.
Graham laughed as he finalized his order. “Don’t know where your mind went, but I was talking about my search history of articles that start with ‘ How to get the girl you like but aren’t sure if she likes you back.’” He gave me that ridiculous eyebrow wiggle again with his standard shameless smirk.
An incredulous laugh fell from my lips. The audacity of this guy.
“I’m sure that’s what’s on there.”
He held out his phone. “Wanna check?”
Tempting. So very tempting. Who wouldn’t want to know if he really spent time searching for things like that? Were they Cosmo articles? Men’s Health ? I highly doubted such things for guys existed. They were too confident. Too egotistical. He was too confident.
“I’ll pass.” I waved him off. “But I would like some water. Or hot tea if you have it.”
“Sorry. Fresh out of tea,” he teased. I doubted tea had ever made it on his grocery shopping list.
He went to the small kitchen, and I hung out on the other side through a pass-through hole in the wall where I could see him moving around, grabbing two bottled waters from the fridge. Which was basically all his fridge was stocked with.
“Don’t do a lot of cooking?” I asked, but I wasn’t surprised. Most college kids didn’t, and if he was an athlete, they had their own dining and meal plans, and a lot of those were eaten in the athletic building.
“What gave it away?” He gestured to his fridge door like a classy Vanna White. “My vast selection of condiments?”
“Pretty much.”
“I’ll have you know, I can cook. I just don’t like to. My dad did a lot of cooking in our house when I was growing up, and he made me help him. Said it was good for men to know so they didn’t someday get married and expect the women in their lives to do it all.”
“Well, isn’t that progressive of him.”
“My dad’s a progressive guy.” He shrugged it off like it was nothing, but it wasn’t.
If my dad adopted that kind of mindset, he might not have fallen apart so spectacularly after Mom took off.
“Come on. The app said it’ll be about forty minutes until our food gets here. Any movies you like to watch?”
“Was that a suggestion in all those articles you read?”
He barked out a laugh and plopped down on the couch. “No, Spitfire. That’s because I’m a thoughtful guy.”
He handed me my water, and I sat down close to him on the couch. “Can I ask a question?”
“You can ask anything.” He untwisted his water and took a healthy swig.
“Who’s Piper?”
He coughed, spewing water out of his mouth and then cussed as he jumped to his feet.
I laughed, more out of surprise than humor.
“Hold on. Crap.” He brushed water off his shirt and then hurried to the kitchen, where he grabbed a roll of paper towels. Tearing off more than necessary for the few splatters on his table and couch, he came back and mopped it all up.
“How many cool guy points did that just make me lose?”
His cheeks were a dark pink. Was he really embarrassed?
“Zero, unless you’re going to tell me there’s something going on with you two.”
“Piper? Me? No way.” He shook his head, frowning, and then fell back onto the couch. “Why? Did she say something to you?”
“She told me she’s known you almost her entire life.”
“Yeah. I mean…” He paused, swiped at his hair, and then blew out a breath. “We’ve been friends a long time. She’s…well…snotty is the best word, but she’s got a heart of gold beneath all of that. We’re just friends, though. That’s all we’ve ever been.”
His tone became more strained as he tried to explain.
“She made it sound like more.”
His expression turned pained, and I was about to let it go because this was another one of those things he seemed like he didn’t want to talk about, but then he grumbled something I couldn’t hear.
He closed his eyes. When he opened them, I expected to see the same playfulness he usually showed me, but there was something dark in them. Something cold. Like he was in the room physically, but he’d gone somewhere entirely else in the span of time it took him to blink.
“We lost someone last year. Someone important to both of us. Since then…I don’t know. I think my family had always thought I’d end up with our friend, but she and I hadn’t wanted that. Now that she’s gone, Piper’s been…territorial of me? I don’t know if that’s the right word. But yeah…I’m sorry if she said anything. I can talk to her.”
“No.” I shook my head. She’d questioned me, she’d made implications, but she also hadn’t been wrong. I wasn’t anything special, and whatever this was wouldn’t be long-term.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. Because the pain of losing someone was difficult, and the way he said it made it seem like that loss was final. “Did you love her?”
It was absolutely none of my business, but Eli’s words came back to me loud and clear. This explained his hard year. This explained why Piper said he never talked to girls. Was he…mourning?
“Yes? No? I mean, yeah. In a way, but not that way. We were just really good friends. Her dad and mine were super close. They hung out together all the time, so we were always together. And then Piper’s family moved into our neighborhood when she was seven or something, and then it was the three of us. We were G, P, and Fee because parts of all of our names rhymed. I got older and obviously got guy friends and teammates and stuff, but for Piper, it was always Fee. She’s taken the loss harder and changed. I don’t blame her for it. For me, it kind of opened my eyes to what I wanted out of life. Piper, well, she’s struggling.”
Now that I understood, I could sympathize with her. I didn’t exactly want to feel bad about a girl who’d been rude to me, but we all struggled with something, and her current pains seemed to be pretty major.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. I knew the pain of losing people, even if mine were still alive. It didn’t make the loss easier knowing they chose to go away.
Graham shrugged and then took another pull of his water. I let him take the time he needed, drinking my own water, until he came back to me with that friendly grin.
“Did I scare you off yet?”
Bending my legs, I brought my heels to the couch and rested my cheek on my knees while facing him. If I was looking to leave, which I should have been, it would have been the perfect excuse. And yet, that’s all it would have been—an excuse.
The more Graham opened up, the more I realized I was starting to fall for this guy, and not only was I doing it without a safety net…I couldn’t bring myself to pull the cord, release my parachute, and get myself off this crazy trip.
“No. Not yet.”
Had I been standing, his answering smile would have sent my knees wobbling.