Chapter Eighteen Sunday #3
I wait until he’s disappeared down the corridor before I push the door shut with my foot, trying not to jostle Ruby too much. I give her a minute even though my mind is racing.
I feel almost unbearably protective of her.
The idea of anyone making her feel small, or guilty, or anything other than completely fucking adored makes something vicious kick up inside me.
I don’t care who it is either. Oscar, her mum, a stranger, my own nan.
If Nan said something that made Ruby fold in on herself like this, I’d probably stick her in a wheelie bin and push it down a flight of stairs before stopping to remember she’s seventy-eight and would haunt me forever.
It’s not logical. But with Ruby, logic seems to be becoming less and less relevant.
My voice is low when I speak. “Rubes? You alright?”
She nods against my chest.
I swallow. “Can I see your face?”
She shakes her head.
“Okay.” I leave her there for another breath, my arm still firm around her waist while her hands grip the front of my T-shirt, but not being able to see her is driving me fucking mad. “I just want to check you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“I know you’re saying that.”
She makes a tiny noise that could be annoyance, but she still doesn’t lift her head, so I bring both hands up and cup either side of her face. My palms cover most of her cheeks, my thumbs rest just below her eyes as I slowly coax her head back.
Ruby resists at first, chin tucked stubbornly towards her chest, and I don’t force it. I just keep my hands there, rubbing my thumbs across her cheeks until eventually she gives in and lets me lift her face towards mine.
Her eyes are wet.
Fuck.
The sight of it punches straight through me.
“Hey,” I murmur, bending my head so I can catch her gaze when she tries to look away. “Don’t hide from me.”
“I don’t want to cry all over you.”
“You can cry if you want, I won’t judge.”
“I’m sorry.”
I’m perplexed. What has she got to be sorry for? “Why?”
“Because I basically threw myself at you, and then my brother—”
“Hey, hey.” I say as she tries to look away. “Stop it. I don’t want you to say sorry for that shit. I just want to know you’re okay?”
Ruby presses her lips together. I can feel her trying to pull herself back under control beneath my hands. I hate it. I don’t want her to think I’m someone who expects her to be anything other than herself
“I’m alright,” whispers. “I just hate when he does that.” She grips my top with one hand. “It’s like they’ll never let me grow up.”
I still don’t get it. It’s fucking weird. And I’m the king of dysfunctional families. “Your family have always been like this?”
She gives a small shrug. “Yeah. I think they forget I’m not twelve anymore.”
Truthfully, Oscar seemed more pissed than is normal. “That’s all it is?”
She nods quickly. “He panics.”
I study her face, trying to decide whether I believe her, but her eyes are still wet, and I don’t want to turn this into another interrogation.
“Alright.” I nod, certain she’s playing it down but deciding to drop it.
I stroke her cheeks and she closes her eyes, leaning into my palms in a way that makes my heart constrict. “Do you want to do something today?”
“Like what?” She croaks, looking at me.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Anything. Get out of here for a bit?”
“You don’t need to do that because I’m crying.”
“I’m not. I want to spend the day with you.”
She softens. “Really?”
“Yeah. Why is that so hard to believe?”
“I don’t know, Josh. Sometimes I can’t tell if you like me at all.”
“Ruby Hollis.” I tilt her face back towards mine, making sure she looks at me. “There isn’t a thing about you I don’t like.”
Her eyes are filled with uncertainty, needing some kind of reassurance that she isn’t selfish, or bad, or unlikeable.
So, I do my best to give her what she needs.
“I really like spending time with you. I like that you say whatever the fuck you’re thinking.
I like that you’re nosy and irritating, and you make me do things I would never usually do.
I like that you can make me laugh when I really don’t feel like laughing.
” My thumbs keep stroking her cheeks while I hold her in place.
“I like being near you, Rubes. There’s a reason I find an excuse to see you every day.
” I lean forward and press a light kiss to her forehead, then gently pull back.
“Whatever bad things you think about yourself—don’t ever mistake any of it for how I see you, because it isn’t. Not even fucking close.”
She sniffles before letting her forehead fall against my chest, forcing my hands from her face. “Do you mean that?”
I wrap my arms around her shoulders instead, resting my chin lightly on top of her head. “Yeah. I really do. I think you’re great.”
She lowly laughs but there’s no real humour in it. “You’ve known me a little while. You’ll get sick of me eventually.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I know so.”
My arms tighten. “I guess you’ll have to ask me again in a year.”
She tips her head back slightly. “You reckon you’ll still be around in a year?”
I don’t even need to think about it. “Yeah. I know I will be.”