Chapter 31
AVERY
Iwake up to the sound of running water.
“Rawley?”
The sound shuts off, and he comes out of the bathroom.
He’s wearing only boxers, which he must have slipped on this morning. Either way, he looks good enough to eat with all that taut, tan muscle on display. If we hadn’t had a second round in the middle of the night, I might be unable to resist the urge for another.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” I smile at him in reassurance. “I don’t think, anyway. I need to wake up.”
We leave for our next road trip this afternoon, so I’ve got to head back to Sarah’s to pack.
“Okay, good.” He grabs a pair of shorts from his dresser. “I’m going to grab us some coffee. Be right back.”
I take advantage of his departure to jump into the bathroom myself and clean up.
Looking in the mirror, my hair’s a complete bird’s nest. Nobody’s going to think anything’s fake with you looking like that.
I give a little snort at the thought and mercifully find a brush in one of Rawley’s drawers.
When he comes back with our coffee, I’m still working out a few knots.
“Here’s yours,” he says, setting it down on the dresser before taking a seat with his mug on the bed.
“Thanks.” Brush, brush. These dang knots.
He takes in what I’m doing. “You know, you can leave stuff here if you want. I mean, if you ever need some things.” His voice sounds uncertain. If it were another guy, I would think it’s because he’s being insincere in his offer, but with Rawley I know it’s something else.
“I should probably just get better at throwing the right things in my purse.” A tease at myself because hello, how did I not bring a brush of any kind last night?
He blinks. “Oh yeah, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Wait, no.
“Rawley.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t need to say you’re sorry to me about anything.”
“Oh, sor—” He stops, and then looks annoyed at himself.
I set the brush down.
I don’t exactly know what’s made him fall into this pattern of apologizing so often, but it’s definitely a thing. Same with the negative self-talk I’ve heard from him sometimes.
The Rawley Battle I’ve gotten to know is a gem of a man. I don’t get it.
Grabbing my coffee, I take a seat on the bed next to him.
Keeping my voice soft, I ask the question. “Why do you do that? Say you’re sorry so much?”
“I…it’s really early for this serious a topic.” His tone is dismissive, but it doesn’t hold any heat. “You don’t need to be burdened with my stuff.”
I smile at him. “Rawley Battle, if you haven’t noticed, I kind of like you and your stuff. You’re the fake boyfriend of my dreams.” He gives a grin back. “But only if you want to share.”
His face transforms to a more contemplative expression. “Yeah, I mean. I don’t mind sharing with you at all.”
I stay silent but keep the smile on my face as encouragement. I don’t want to force the issue.
He taps his coffee mug a few times, looking down at it while he starts explaining.
“I guess I’ll give you the short version?”
“Okay, whatever you want.”
Tap. “When I was growing up, I was always a high-energy kid, fidgeting in class, struggling with focus. It didn’t really matter in elementary school, where it was like, ‘oh, he’s just being a little boy, blah blah…”
What he’s describing resonates with me. I feel like I overheard adults saying the same thing about a couple of the boys I grew up with.
“But then it caught up with me in middle school. I couldn’t stay organized, I’d forget stuff and of course, all the memorizing that you start having to do for school, I was terrible at it.
By the time I was in high school, I’d heard I was ‘dumb’ or ‘lazy’ way too many times to count.
And you start to believe that about yourself when you hear it so often, you know? ”
Ugh, my heart hurts so deep for the boy he was. The pain that must have caused him, this amazing guy. Pieces are starting to click into place about some of his mannerisms.
“It wasn’t until sixteen that we finally figured it out. Maybe if my parents had been more involved…” He shakes his head. “But no, it was a guidance counselor who had just moved to our town who caught the signs.”
He locks eyes with me. “I have ADHD.”
Yes, I had a sense this was where he was headed. “One of my best childhood friends from Boston does too. It’s so common.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “I think…I think if it’d been caught earlier, if I’d known sooner…it would have really helped me deal with some of my bad habits, like the apologizing. The negative things I say about myself. But between the drug issues and all of this…”
I put my free hand on his, just wanting him to know I’m listening.
“It’s almost like my default to take the blame for everything? To blame myself? I do catch it now that I’m an adult, but I haven’t quite figured out how to stop doing it.”
He pauses there, studying me like he’s searching for reassurance.
I squeeze his hand, wanting to give it. “Oh Rawley, I’m so glad you shared this.”
“I know it’s a lot.”
“It’s not. It’s just real.” He smiles weakly.
“I guess the first thing I want to say is that you don’t ever have to be a certain way with me.
Don’t feel like you need to hide parts of yourself, or anything like that.
That includes apologizing—if it’s what comes out naturally in the moment, there’s nothing wrong with that, you know?
Although, I’ve never seen you do anything you need to apologize for. ”
He shrugs, not looking fully convinced.
“The person I’m sitting with here, right now, on this bed—he’s wonderful. Exactly as he is. I just want you to know that.”
“Thanks.” I can tell he’s still weighing my words.
“I mean it. You’re funny, sweet, and quickly becoming one of my favorite people on the planet to spend time with.”
He grins a little. “It’s the orgasms.”
“Couldn’t resist that one, could you?”
His grin gets wider.
“Joking aside, I’m so sorry for what you’ve gone through. You deserved better growing up, and none of it should have been on a kid to figure out.”
He relaxes more, and his thumb strokes my fingers where our hands are connected.
“Anything I can do to help now, I’m so here. If you want to talk more, just vent, have me shower you with compliments—”
He chuckles. “That last one, please.”
“Anytime. I can think of more than I’ve already said too.
I haven’t even got to the football stuff.
Look at how much you’ve accomplished already.
It may be hard for you to see it, but you’re making a mark so young.
And you’re juggling all the insane pressure and scrutiny we face on top of it so well. ”
“Thanks.” He bites his lip but his smile holds. “We both know how hard you are to impress.”
This time when he gives clues he wants to lighten the mood, I follow his lead. Hopefully I’ve said enough to confirm that I’m here to support him.
“So I’ve been told. But you’ve managed to do it.” I kiss the side of his cheek to punctuate my words.
A beat of quiet follows, before he stands up and puts his coffee cup on the dresser. Turning back to me, he shifts the subject, signaling the serious conversation has passed.
“So, your first road trip as a starter? That’s cool.”
“It doesn’t change much. Maybe more boo’s from the opponents.”
“Fun.” His lightly sarcastic tone expresses what he really thinks.
“You leave for Oregon soon to see Grace at nationals, right?”
“Yeah, in four days. We’ll fly back right when you’re returning I think.”
I lock eyes with him. “That’s convenient.”
“Isn’t it?” He raises a brow.
“We don’t have plans together until the Fourth,” I realize in real time. I’m pretty sure I’m frowning. “But let’s do something before that when we’re back. We can just tell Taylor whatever we decide then.”
“Definitely.”
I take the last sip of my coffee, glad we got that resolved.
But the sip is interrupted when his phone buzzes. It’s face up on his bed, and I turn my head to see who’s calling, as he steps towards the bed to do the same.
Oh? It’s Stefani. Whose striking face and long blond hair appear from her photo in his phone contacts.
“Hmmm,” he remarks flatly, as he picks the phone up and dismisses the call. “I didn’t respond to her message last night. So she must be trying to check in or something.”
“Is that the same Stefani you told me about? You’re still in touch with her?”
He doesn’t owe me anything, but…I feel thrown off.
“Sort of, yes.” He looks at me like he’s trying to work up the courage to tell me something. Great. “I was supposed to visit her in New York this month, but I canceled it when…you and I happened.”
My heart feels compressed, even more so when my next questions escape my mouth.
“Do you still wish you could go? Do you miss her?”
He shakes his head vigorously. “No. Not at all. I’m glad…I like what you and I have going on. If that isn’t obvious.”
“Yeah.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing that’s happened.” He has more conviction this time, and I start to calm down. Turning the phone back over, he sits next to me again.
“Good.” I let out a breath, and try to lighten the mood. “Because we’re stuck together awhile longer.”
“That we are.” Smiling, he opens up his arm for me to lie against him. “Come here.”
Cuddling during the daytime is not part of this deal, but I let myself indulge.
Friends hug, right?
He tightens his arm around me. “I promise I’m yours during all of this, and I won’t do anything to embarrass you.”
Bolstered by both the contact and his words, I force myself to release the rest of my anxiety.
He’s not shown one sign of betraying what you agreed to. He’s not like Topher. He doesn’t lie.
“Thanks.”
“You bet, Avie.”
There’s another moment of silence, Rawley still holding me, before he asks what I want for breakfast.
An hour later, having fed me about one hundred protein pancakes, he drops me off at Sarah’s to get on with my road trip packing duties.
When he parks the car, I can’t resist a last tease.
“Bye Rook, don’t miss me too much.”
He laughs. “Bye Avie baby, text me so I don’t.”
I’m out of the car, and heading to Sarah’s front porch, when I hear him roll down the passenger-side window.
Flipping my head back in his direction, I see he’s sticking his head out of that side.
And then he leaves me for a week with one last thought…
“The one thing I’ll never be sorry for, Avery, is this time with you.”
I’m all packed up when Mom asks to call me. I don’t even reply, just buzz her right away.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“Hi, Mom. I’m going to put you on speaker, okay? I’m just packing for the trip.”
“Oh, I don’t want to keep you from that.”
“It’s okay, I just got back from Rawley’s, so…” Oh crap, Mom is the one person who shouldn’t think I’m sleeping over at his house.
“Rawley’s? I thought you’re staying with Sarah.”
“Well…”
“Avery?” She put two and two together fast, I guess.
“Yeah, Rawley and I…” I’m stumped on how to describe this to my mother.
“Like, you’re really together? The fake relationship became real?” She sounds a little excited, sheesh.
But I don’t want to lie to her. There’s enough lying happening in other ways.
“No, we’re just having fun. It’s casual.” Hopefully she’ll catch the drift without more detail.
“Oh.” Yeah, she did.
“Two twenty-one-year-olds and all that.”
“Okay.”
“Can we not talk about this anymore?”
“Fine by me.”
I zip up my main duffle. Multitasking at its finest. “What did you want to speak about?”
“I was talking to Dad, and we’re thinking of coming to your next game in Boston. Is that all right?”
“Of course. That’d be great.”
“Perfect. We’re excited to see you again.”
Her question reminds me of the one of my own that’s been nagging at me.
“Is something going on with Dad? He’s seemed, I don’t know, mellower? And really supportive?” That’s a weird word to use for your own father, but there’s definitely been a shift in that department.
She takes a couple of moments to respond. “Well, yeah. With Jamie about to start his senior year in high school, I think it’s finally hitting him that we’re going to have an empty nest here.”
A little late but… “Okay.”
“By the way, Jamie’s really interested in Tolliver University, so we’ll probably do a college visit down there soon.”
“Oh, so cool.” My little brother’s getting recruited all over, but it would be amazing to have him here in Orlando. Tolliver is like the Duke of Florida.
“And look, I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but I think your dad’s finally realizing how much he missed, especially for Dylan and you. And he has regrets.”
Mom’s explanation connects the dots for me, but I can’t quite seem to absorb what she’s saying. It’s so different than the actual experience I have had with my dad.
“Okay, that’s good to know, I guess.”
She sighs. “I don’t expect you to do anything you don’t want to, Aves. But if you want to talk to him more often, I think he’d like it.”
I’m not sure what to do with that information?
“Thanks for telling me all that.”
I’ve spent so long thinking he doesn’t really see me that it’s hard to open myself up to the possibility of something different.
Do I want that?
The thought of having a confidant in Dad, talking to him freely about my dreams, ones he’ll very much relate to—I don’t hate it. At all.
But it’s going to take time, and right now, as I throw my bag in my car for my first road trip as a starter, I don’t have that.