Chapter 10 #2
My mood instantly changes. I love hearing about him and Millie. And I could use a distraction. But knowing Ski, there will be some life lesson in the story he is about to tell me.
"Millie came from a very wealthy family.
I did not. My mom died in childbirth. I was the youngest of twelve, and she didn't make it through my birth.
My dad worked in the mines. All thirteen of us lived in a small cabin—no bedroom, not even a private bathroom, but it was home.
Millie's family was the opposite. She was an only child and wanted for nothing.
When I was fourteen, I got a job with the fair.
The job was trash, literally. I was hired to go around and pick up trash to keep the grounds clean.
But one perk was that I was able to collect all the cans I could carry to go shoot with my rubber band gun.
I was behind a concession stand, shooting at the cans, and not missing by the way.
This old man, believe it or not is a great shot.
" He looks down at me and gives me a smirk, his gray mustache lifting slightly.
"Anyway, when she came running around the back, crying her eyes out because she didn't win the prize she wanted—"
He laughs to himself, transported back in time in his memories.
"—I couldn't believe it. I called her a spoiled little brat, so upset over not getting a fluffy bear when my family could barely afford to eat. And she called me a stinky boy who only knew how to shoot something. Neither of us were right about the other. And both of us were crazy about each other, even if we pretended we weren’t.
By fifteen, we were madly in love. I don't think I need to tell you that her parents were not happy about her choice in me.
But she was fearless. I remember her stomping her cute little feet, telling them that she was going to run away and live with me if they didn't let her see me.
I thought she was crazy, wanting to live with thirteen smelly, dirty people over her mansion, but she did.
She just wanted me. I knew then and there that she would be mine forever. "
He looks at me again. "See, sweetie, my Millie knew at fifteen what most people never figure out. Money comes and goes, but love is eternal, and we don't get to choose how others decide to love us. Even if we want them to love us more…or less."
I give him a small smile and a hug, the bell ringing out interrupting our moment. Ev is standing there, huffing as if he ran here.
“Ev? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the game?”
“Fuck the game. Is what you said in the last letter true?” He looks furious. His tone is frenzied. Here it is. He sees now that I am not good enough. All I want to do is run. If I don’t hear him say the words, they won't be true right?
I drop my head.
“Leo, answer me.” He comes around the bar, and Ski exits to the back, giving us privacy.
“Yes.” It’s a defeated whisper.
His large hands reach up to cradle my face with a firmness and gentleness that I thought impossible to feel simultaneously. The same way he is holding my heart.
“I love you.”
My eyes widen with shock, meeting his sea-glass eyes. My heart skips a beat. I’m going to throw up.
“What?”
He kisses my forehead. “I love you.”
He kisses my left temple. “I love you.”
He kisses my right temple. “I love you.”
He kisses my nose. “I love you.”
He kisses my lips. “I love you.”
He pauses, making sure I’m looking him in the eyes.
“I will love you for the both of us. I will love you until you love yourself. And when I finally prove to you that you are worthy of love, I will continue to love you. Do you hear me, Leora Laney? I fucking love you. And want to know something, you are fucking worthy of it.”
Tears are streaming down my face. I don’t know what to do. What do I say? No one has ever told me they love me before.
“You… you can't. You don't mean that.”
He pulls back slightly, and his face drops.
"Don't tell me what I can and can't do. Because guess what, its not your decision, pretty bird.
My pretty bird. I get to love you and you can run from me because I'm sure this fucking scares you, but I don't care.
I'll chase you down. I'll continue, everyday, showing you how much you mean to me and how worthy you are of being loved. "
My mind can't process all that he has said. Could it be true? My heart says it is, but she is unreliable at best. My mind tells me that logically, him and I will never work. We are too different. Come from two completely oppositional backgrounds. I'll never be accepted in his world.
"I… huh. I really like you."
His gaze drops, the first time I have ever seen him lose confidence.
But then I begin to smile, trying desperately to keep my face like I’m serious.
Laying my finger under his chin, I lift his gaze back to me.
I can see the shift from pure defeat that I don’t love him back to knowing I am completely trying to deflect with humor.
“You little shit.” Shaking his head, he leans in to kiss me again, but I stop him with a hand to his chest. Three words that I have never strung together in this way fall from my lips like a prayer.
“I love you.”
“I told you, you would one day.” Then his lips meet mine again.
He was right.
I pull back suddenly, remembering that he is the star quarterback and has a game to play. “Wait! The game! You need to go!”
He grabs my hand and pulls me out from behind the bar. Spins me quickly, unties my apron, and sets in on the counter. “Ski, I’m stealing Leora away!”
“You got it!” the traitor shouts back.
“What? No. My shift isn’t over yet, and you need to go get ready!”
“You need me more, and you are all that matters.”
Holy mother of Jesus, he is skipping the game? I laugh at his absurd mind as he drags me out of the shop and opens the door to his truck for me.
“Okay, then, you have me. What are you going to do with me?”
Oh no. I realize my wrong choice of words when he looks at me like I’m a five-course meal and he is a starved man that just got permission to feast. “Would you like my answer to include what I really want to do with you? Or just what I have planned for tonight?”
“Tonight, will be…good.” I swallow the dry lump that has formed in my throat at his meaning.
He starts to drive away, his left hand on the top of the steering wheel, his right gripping my thigh. His hand warms my skin, even through the leggings I’m wearing.
“We, my pretty bird, are going to my favorite spot in town.”