Chapter 16 #2
“It’s complicated,” she tells him, rolling her eyes. “I live here. You and your dad don’t. And since you’re both going back to your homes in a couple of months, it doesn’t really make any sense to be too serious. Do you know what I mean?”
Gus frowns.
Markie looks at me, searching my face. “But we like each other. And since I’m tutoring you and your dad is playing pickleball with me, I think it’s safe to say that we’ll be seeing a lot of each other until you guys pack up and go home.”
Safe.
I nod slowly as the truth hits me like a ton of bricks.
In my head, this was all about pickleball. That was her goal, and everything else was the means to that end. But I clearly missed the entire plot.
Last night in the bathroom wasn’t about pickleball, and it wasn’t about sex. It was about trust. Because that’s her thing—trust. Everything with Markie comes back to that one single word.
Men disappoint her, so she trusts herself. She throws herself into pickleball because she trusts her abilities, and the tournament is proof she’s right to do so. She clings to things she can control because she knows just how quickly everything can disappear. She relies on herself.
But last night, she dropped her guard and let me in.
She reached for me in her own way. It was an act of trust from a woman who doesn’t trust anyone from the male species, and I missed it.
I was so focused on keeping my promise to help her win that I failed to see what she was really trying to tell me.
That maybe she’s learning to trust me. That maybe the tournament really isn’t the point. Maybe it has nothing to do with Jasper.
Markie doesn’t need protection. She just needs to feel safe.
A knock on the door comes before I can react, and Gus is on his feet before I can say no. Once he’s out of earshot, I lean forward toward Markie.
“What was that all about?” I ask, reaching for her hand. Our fingers entwine as she smiles at me.
“What was what all about?”
“What you told Gus. That we’re kind of dating and we like each other,” I say.
She shrugs. “Well, I couldn’t be sure. You did shoot me down last night, so I really had to play around with the words.”
I chuckle.
“I’m just trying to save your ass,” she says, laughing, too. “You’ll eventually be sorry you did that—”
“Markie …”
“And when that happens”—she leans forward—“you’re going to beg. It’s going to be very cute and I’m looking forward to it.”
The lines I gave her at the farmers’ market on the first day we met echo through my brain.
“Fine. But when you change your mind later, you’re going to beg.”
She lifted her chin. “That’s cute.”
“Oh, it’s going to be very cute. I’m looking forward to it.”
Before I can respond, Gus comes barreling into the room. “Dad. We gotta talk.”
“What’s up?” I ask, pulling my hand away from Markie. I try to clear my mind of our conversation and focus on what my son is saying.
“Josh and his mom are going out to his uncle’s house tonight to go catfishing. You gotta do that in the dark,” he said. “But he also said that they’ll be back around midnight, and they asked if I can go.”
“His mom is going?” So … you’ll be safe and having fun, and Markie and I will be alone? I can work with that.
He nods. “Yes. She said she texted you about it, but you didn’t answer. And she said she’ll have her phone the whole time, and you can always text her. Oh! And that they’re stopping for burgers so I don’t need to worry about dinner.”
I grab my phone from the kitchen, and sure enough, there’s a text from her explaining everything. I fire back a text, thanking her for inviting Gus, and telling her that he’s excited … and not to rush home on my account.
“Okay,” I say after I hit Send. “You can go. Take your phone and have fun.”
“Yes! Thanks, Dad.” He heads for the door. “You’re the best,” he calls out over his shoulder just before the door slams.
I sit back in my chair, giving the energy in the room a second to settle. And when it does, it’s like a thick, hot blanket wrapped around Markie and me.
“So,” she says, grinning. “I guess there’s no math tonight.”
“Guess not.”
“Since we don’t have a chaperone, I’m not sure if I should stay. I mean, I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.”
I grin right back at her. “That might be a good idea.” I pause as she tries to make sense of that. “I mean, I’m not sure I have the self-restraint to turn you down twice.”
Her eyes shine. “That’s really good to know.”
“Then you should really not look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want to get me into trouble.”
She smiles. “Maybe I do.”
I glance around the room—at the dirty kitchen, Gus’s math homework, and the clutter around what actually looks like a home. And now? The beautiful woman sitting across from me.
Three years ago—hell, one year ago, I wouldn’t have been able to fathom that this picture would include me.
And if someone would’ve told me that out of all the accomplishments in my life—money, championships, fame—that this would seem like a moment when I felt my life coming together, I’d have laughed in their face.
But it’s true. This is the first time I’ve felt like maybe I’m finding that “something more” that my mom has often talked about.
“One day, you’ll find it—that missing part of your life that you never knew existed.
It’ll change the way you wake up in the morning and the color of the sky at dusk.
Your life will be filled with something more beautiful and special than you could ever dream, and that’s what I want for you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
The idea feels like a hurricane inside my brain, threatening to bring a ton of problems with it once it lands. That scares the fuck out of me. But imagining three months from now, when Gus goes home and I return to Nashville without either of them, also feels unnatural. Terrifying, even.
Like maybe this is the something more.
I take a breath and recenter myself.
The owner of the Royals, the rugby legend Renn Brewer’s voice comes back to me. “Control what you can control, Plath. You can’t win the whole match in one play.”
“Are you done eating?” I ask.
She nods, her eyes searching mine.
“Let’s go talk.”
She stands, placing her small palm in mine, and lets me lead her into the living room.