Chapter 7
Savannah
EJ and I talked nonstop at that restaurant. We asked each other question after question. When one of us was chewing food, the other was talking, and so it went.
It was a lot of fun catching up with someone I hadn't seen in so long.
We had spent weeks of long days together that summer, so I knew him in a way I didn't know other people.
I was open and raw with him, and I told him all about my eight-year nightmare of a relationship.
He asked me questions about it, and I didn't hold back.
I knew nothing would ever happen between me and EJ, so I wasn't trying to impress him.
I was completely honest and told him I wanted nothing to do with men.
EJ listened to what I said about Christian.
I knew what had happened to me, and I knew how to prevent it from happening again.
EJ understood how my history could ruin me in relationships.
He had never been in a long relationship himself.
He said his longest relationship had been seven months.
His problem with women was that he didn't trust any of them enough to open himself up to marriage and building a life with anyone.
"What's at the root of it all?" I asked him. "Why don't you trust them?"
"Most women know about my family before they get to know me," he said. "My dad is famous around Chicago, and my brother and I played sports before we opened the gyms. I had a fairly good run with the Cubs before I got injured."
"You played for the Cubs?"
"Yes."
"The Cubs baseball team?" I asked.
"Yes."
"The Chicago Cubs baseball team?" I clarified.
We had already ordered and were well into eating our food by that point in the conversation. I paused between bites, feeling like this was information he could've shared with me an hour ago, or maybe even the last time I cut his hair.
"You're a professional baseball player, EJ?" I asked, gawking at him.
He grinned. Objectively, he was an incredibly handsome guy. If I had been prone to want to impress men, I would certainly want to impress this one.
"I was," he said. "I retired after only two seasons." He took a deep breath and made a thoughtful expression, glancing down at his food.
"Do you regret it?" I asked.
"Do I regret it? Retiring?"
"Yes. Did you have an option? Were you hurt too bad to go back?"
"No, I wasn't hurt too bad. I was injured, but I could have rehabbed it. I retired because I wanted to focus on opening the gym with my brother. And to answer your question… n-no… I don't regret it."
"There was some big-time hesitation there," I said after taking a bite of my burrito.
"It's a little bit of a sore point because people mention it to me a lot. They say things like 'why'd you give up'… or… 'you could've been one of the greats like your dad'."
"I bet you were great—you are great. You have to be great to make it to the pros. I can't believe you're a professional baseball player. How could you leave that out, EJ? I have a friend, the rep from our supplier, who cuts a guy's hair from the Pirates. You might know him. Cody Thompson."
"Yeah, I know Cody," EJ said, nodding.
I smiled at him. "I can't believe you're just telling me this."
"My dad's more famous than I am."
"Who's your dad?"
"Eddie Decker."
I coughed uncontrollably at that name. I tried to react and just swallowed spit wrong and choked. I had most definitely heard that name.
"He's a football player," I said. "Chicago Bears."
"Yes," EJ said.
"Your dad is Eddie Decker?"
"Yes, he is."
"Your real dad?" I asked, feeling stunned.
"Yes. Eddie Junior. That's me."
I was flabbergasted. I thought about that for a minute, and then made an odd smiling face at him. "That's a gigantic deal."
I could tell he was waiting to see how I reacted. I took another bite of my burrito, thinking about how very famous Eddie Decker was. I had heard that name constantly during football season when I was growing up.
"I’m sorry I smoked a cigarette with you," I said numbly and out of nowhere, causing him to laugh.
"Don't be sorry," he said.
"No, what if you had gotten hooked? Think about it. I might've spoiled your professional career. What if I sent you off on the track to becoming a juvenile delinquent? That would have been horrible."
He laughed at me. "Stop, I don't even think I really got any in my lungs," he said, causing both of us to laugh.
"This is too much, I'm looking you up," I said, grabbing my phone.
My bag didn't have many things in it, so I easily found my phone and began typing on it.
"So, what do I search? Are you under EJ Decker on the intern—oh, yep.
There you are. That's insane, EJ! Whoa. Whoa.
" I had taken in enough numbers in the five seconds of internet exposure to know who I was dealing with here.
I set my phone down and glanced at him, meeting his eyes.
"You're famous," I said in a matter-of-fact tone, staring straight at him.
His face broke into a smile, and he shook his head. He was gorgeous, and I already knew that. I also already knew that I didn't care.
"Not really. I'm just famous enough to make me paranoid of women."
"Because you think they're after you for fame and fortune?"
"It's not that I think that. I'm not making it up. It's true. I'm sorry, but the women I've been with, I can just tell that it was conditional even though they would never say that."
"Oh, no, don't worry. You'll do it. You'll find somebody.
" I encouraged him. "I'm usually a bad person to ask because I'm so jaded, but in this case, I think you can find someone genuine if that's what you're looking for.
You're still so young. Somebody is going to be out there who rings true with your heart.
Look at your brother. Did he get a good woman? "
"Yes, but it was literally this magical thing where he, like, found her missing scarf. And Marley didn't care about football. She was different."
"See?" I said, encouraging him. "If your brother found someone, so can you. You'll find someone who doesn't want you for all that stuff. You're still young."
"I know, but I just want it. I want to hear somebody call out and say 'hello' to me when I get home from work. I want to hear music playing in my house that I didn't turn on."
"Oh, that's so sweet, EJ," I said. "I guess I'm mean because I want the exact opposite," I added, shaking my head and smiling.
"I want nothing to do with any of that. I want to set my own goals, and I want to have my craft supplies all over my living room without anyone telling me to stop spending money on them or to clean them up.
Oh, I'm so happy not to have anyone at home when I get there.
You have no idea how good you have it right now.
I get what you're saying, but in my opinion, you should just enjoy your independence while you have it.
Why don't you get yourself a dog? Or, honestly, I bet with how famous you are, you could have some cool dudes who just wanna hang out with you at your house.
That would be way better than a wife or anything. "
I smiled at him, and he stared at me with a perplexed but thoughtful expression. "I'm sorry," he said.
"Sorry for what?" I asked, smiling at him. My food was almost gone by that point, and I stopped eating.
"I’m sorry for what made you never want to trust anyone again."
He was being so sweet and sincere that, for a second, it tugged at my heart. But I knew how far I had come.
"Oh, no, it's okay," I said. "We all have different paths. I chose to be with him for so long. I've forgiven him, and I've forgiven myself, and it's all good. I'm thankful I'm in such a good situation now."
"But you're never going to love anyone again?" he asked.
"Oh, sure. I love lots of people," I said.
"I have great people in my life. Half of the second floor is an apartment, and I have it rented to a guy named Nico who's autistic and wonderful and one of my best buds.
I love Nico. I love Gabe. Bree. I love all of my employees.
My mom and brother are in my life. I have lots of love for people.
Are you not going to eat your tomatoes?" I asked, seeing that he had scooted the diced tomatoes to the side of his plate.
"No, I don't like them."
"How? Can I have them?"
"Yes." He held his plate in my direction, and I took his tomatoes.
We started discussing food, and for the next ten minutes, we listed and laughed about our likes and dislikes with eating.
We picked up where we left off as kids—just effortless best friends.
We spent almost two hours in that booth.
Our conversation was funny and honest and raw.
He told me some stories about his family and his life, and I did the same.
The time passed quickly, and it was after nine o'clock when we stood up from our booth. EJ paid, and I noticed that he tipped the server well over twenty percent.
"I wanted to pay," I said when we walked outside. "I didn't want to argue in front of our server, but I want to buy your dinner."
"Why would I let the lady buy me dinner?" he asked.
"Because. Haven't you learned anything from our conversation?" I lifted one arm and flexed my bicep. "I'm tough. I'm the kind of gal who can pay for my dinner and yours." I grinned and pushed at his arm. "Let me. You drove all this way, and I've really enjoyed catching up."
I had cash in my pocket for this exact thing. I had prepared it in the ladies' room earlier. I reached out and handed it to him as we walked in the parking lot.
"I think you gave her more than this," I said, handing him a wad of four twenties. "I didn't know you were such a good tipper."
"Please. I'm not taking this," he said, pushing it away.
He held onto my hands when he did it, and it was thrilling.
I reacted to the feel of his big callused hands on me.
Men in my life didn't normally grab onto me like this.
I normally would never allow it. But he was smiling, and he was sweet, and roughhousing felt good with him. I resisted him, pushing the money away.
"It's the least I can do," I said. "It probably won't even fill up your tank with gas.
" I made a sudden movement, whipping my hand forward, swiftly slipping the money into his shirt pocket.
He probably could've stopped me, but he didn't try.
He just gave me a look like he wished I would stop trying to give him money.
He was looking me in the eyes as he took it out of his pocket. Goodness, he was a gorgeous man. We were standing near his truck by then, and he handed it to me.
"I didn't pay for my haircut," he said. "It's the least I can do. Take it, Savannah."
I took it because he was sweet and serious. "Thank you," I said, giving up.
He walked to the door and opened it for me, and I sat in the passenger's seat, feeling like he was the most perfect man on earth.
I watched him walk around the truck and then I spoke when he sat down. "I'm glad it's the last time I'm cutting your hair because you tip way too much."
He began to back out. "What do you mean it's the last time you're cutting my hair?"
"Well, duh, EJ. We know each other now," I said.
"You can just message me on Instagram and we can say 'hi' to each other.
" I let out a little laugh at the thought of driving seven hours.
"You don't need to book a fake haircut anymore to see me.
Chicago's amazing. I bet you can find somebody to do it better than me within two miles of where you live.
There's no way you can drive seven hours for a haircut. "
"I was going to," he said, causing me to laugh.
"You would get to the day before the haircut and realize you don't want to drive fifteen hours…
that you could get one just as good right where you are.
I'll tell you what, if you want to just catch up sometime, for old times' sake, we could maybe meet halfway and have dinner together or something. "
"Yeah," he agreed.
"I love this song so much," I said. "Stevie's one of my favorites." The music in the truck was playing quietly, and I reached out to turn it up, but I hesitated and looked at him first. He glanced at me from over the console. "Do you mind?" I asked.
"No, not at all," he answered.
It was Superstition by Stevie Wonder, and at first, it was just me who was singing out loud, but for the last chorus of the song, EJ sang with me.
I danced a little jig to the musical outro, and he laughed and shook his head, glancing at me as often as he could as he drove.
Another classic song came on. It was something from the eighties, I thought—the Rolling Stones, maybe.
I turned it down so that I could point out some things about my city as we drove.
We ended up driving around and looking at things for the next hour.
Café Eight was open late, and eventually we stopped for a slice of their famous cake.
The conversation with EJ was so fun that I didn't even notice that time was passing.
He was a curious person and in a good mood in spite of driving all day and then waiting for me while I finished work.
I had been having so much fun with him that I felt like I needed to snap out of it when I looked at the clock.
"It's late. Tomorrow's my long day," I said. "Usually I'm in bed by ten-thirty."
"I’m sorry for keeping you up."
"No, I was having fun. You need to stop being funny, though. My face hurts from laughing. This is the road right here. Do you see where we're at now? That's the salon right there. See it? You probably came in from the other direction."
"Yeah, I see it now," he said.
He slowed down as he approached my house.
"Are you dropping me off, or did you want to come in for a second?"