Chapter Twenty-Five #2
I slide my phone into my pocket and come over to stand next to her. She looks up, her long, light-brown eyelashes flutter. “Don’t be too mad at him, will ya?”
I bristle at the thought of not giving him absolute hell because that’s what he deserves, but the sincere and serious look on her face has me pausing. “Why?”
She bites her bottom lip before releasing it. “Because his heart was in the right place, and he seems like a really nice guy.”
My hackles start to go up for an entirely different reason. “Nice guy,” I repeat. Does she have a crush on one of my closest friends? I mean, this little stunt definitely has him falling down the ranks on that list, but is it possible they connected that night?
She nods, “Yeah, I mean it was a douchey thing to do and all, but—” she trails off as she watches my face.
“Do you like him?” I ask as calmly as I can, but on the inside, I’m being lit up with a fiery ball of jealousy.
“What?”
“I mean, it’s okay if you do.” The lie barely slips past my lips without me choking on it. “I would just like a heads-up if you want to date one of my friends.” There, I said it, even though it felt like razor blades on my tongue.
“Rowan,” she says my name like she’s reprimanding a child.
It takes everything in me to keep my face a mask of indifference. I want so badly to pull her to me and kiss her so damn hard that she never even thinks of another man, but I don’t.
We’re supposed to be friends.
That word is going to be my undoing. I can feel it.
Her eyes haven’t left my face, but I can’t tell what she’s thinking, and I’m not at all prepared for what comes out of her mouth next. “At first, I thought there might be something there. Between us, I mean.”
My stomach drops to my feet. I feel like I might be sick. My heart starts beating at an unnatural pace, and I break out into a cold sweat.
It feels like forever before she says, “But I don’t think there is,” and puts me out of my misery.
It’s not a hard no, and that’s fucking with my head more than anything.
Part of me wants to ask more questions, dig into the reason why she doesn’t think it would work between the two of them.
Is it because he’s a hockey player? Or is it just him in general?
Beau’s a pain in my ass, but she’s right, he’s a good guy with sometimes misguided intentions.
But I can’t bring myself to ask any of them.
A small smile pops up on her pretty face as she asks, “Have you ever been to therapy?” effectively changing the subject.
I work to release the tension in my jaw. I should be more relieved to hear that she doesn’t like Beau, but all it does is make me realize how one day there’s going to be a dude, and there isn’t shit I can do about it.
“Like physical or the shrink kind?”
“The shrink kind.”
“Yeah.”
My one-word response seems to take her by surprise as her eyebrows shoot up her forehead and she asks, “Really?”
I nod in response and go over to pick up my nail gun that I set down when she first got here. At some point here, we’ve got to get back to work. No time like the present, and maybe it will help keep my mind off the images of her with another guy playing on repeat in my brain.
“Did you like it?”
I go over and start shooting nails into the section I already had up and ready. “Like it? I don’t know about that, but it wasn't all terrible I guess. Why? Are you thinking about going to one?”
“Yeah.” Her response is soft and vulnerable. I turn to assess her. Maybe her question isn’t as innocent as I first thought it was.
“You don’t want to?” I gently probe.
She sighs, her shoulders seemingly dropping in defeat. “I don’t think I have a choice.”
That immediately has my attention. Who the hell is making her go? “Your parents forcing you?”
She clears her throat and shakes her head. “It’s complicated, but basically my heart doctor thinks it will help. I just—I don’t know about it, you know? I’ve never been to one, and the thought of opening up like that to a stranger? It’s scary.”
I stop what I’m doing and go over to her.
I can’t stand that she’s in turmoil over this.
Hopefully my experience can help put her mind at ease.
I know I said a lot of shit about how hokey therapy can feel, but in the end, maybe it helped.
I don't want her to completely shoot down the idea based off my experience, so I try to stick to the positives.
I don’t let my mind linger on why her heart doctor wants her to go. First things first. “Yeah, that makes sense. It can be scary in the beginning, but it does feel good to be able to open up to someone. Even if they’re a stranger.”
“You think so?”
I nod my head adamantly, “I do. I think her being a stranger helped me be more honest. There’s no judgment and no preconceived notions. Your friends, your parents, teachers, all of them expect a certain response, or have an opinion on how you should behave. Therapy is none of that.”
I watch as her shoulders continue to creep up towards her ears, her muscles coiled with tension. She has some serious anxiety over this, and I hate that for her.
“It’s going to be okay,” I say as I pull her into my chest. Relief hits as soon as her body collides with mine, and I feel some of that tension slowly fade in her body.
“Can I tell you something and you not judge me for it?” Her voice is muffled because her head is safely tucked into my shoulder.
“You can tell me anything, Daredevil, and I’ll never judge you, never,” I answer with conviction.
“I’m terrified they are going to think I’m crazy and lock me up in a psych ward or something.”
I can hear the panic in her voice, and that has my heart racing and the need to protect her roaring to life. I pull back, gently placing my hand under her chin and tilting it up. “Hey, nothing’s going to happen to you. I won’t let it.”
A sad smile pulls her lips down. Her eyes are wet with unshed tears. “You can’t promise that, and for all you know, I am crazy.”
“You’re the fun kind of crazy, Millie. Not the lock-you-up-and-throw-the-key-away kind.” I kick my lips up in a playful smirk in an attempt to cut the tension. I don’t know why she’s saying these things. There’s nothing this girl could ever do to make me think she was losing her mind.
“Ha, ha,” she sarcastically answers. “I’m serious, Rowan.”
I can tell she is, and that’s what has me worried. “I know, but so am I. Where’s this coming from?”