Chapter 42
Forty-Two
CHLOE
Fifteen minutes later, Rhoads and I step outside the main hospital entrance to get some fresh air. I turn my back to the biting wind and pull my coat tighter. My phone dings. It’s a text from Graham, a wine glass next to a broom.
Guess that means Super Graham is sweeping up another mess. I put it away without responding.
Rhoads raises a brow.
“My mom hired Graham against my wishes. He and I happened to be in the same room when Mr. Littrel had his accident.”
“So, there’s nothing…else…going on there?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“I see.” He stares up at the darkening sky.
I shift, too, aware now that I’m in the fresh air how stuffy hospital rooms really are.
“Okay, so I realize this is probably the least romantic place to have this conversation. But if I wait any longer, I risk you running away from me again.”
My heart beats frantically, but my voice nears a whisper. “I won’t go anywhere this time. I promise.”
He takes a steadying breath, then looks me directly in the eyes. “I like you, Chloe Baker. I don’t know if it’s obvious or if it’s unclear or what. But I’m just going to say it again, so you understand. I like you, and only you. As more than a friend. I have for quite a long time.”
My brain goes into overdrive, bombarding me with all the reasons this is a bad idea and all the reasons it’s the best idea.
My head swims with thoughts of Graham and Janae and Charlotte and Anita, all giving me their opinions.
With Candace and how she’s like his sister.
With the memories of how he spent so much time with me these past few months, just helping me get better, both at my offensive soccer skills and at listening to myself.
I tune everyone else out, and I focus on what my heart is saying.
“Well,” I say, finally. “That’s awfully convenient.
Because it turns out, I like you, too.” I guide his face toward mine, rubbing my nose on his, and waiting for him to close the rest of the distance.
A question poised for an answer. I feel him smile as he presses his lips to mine.
Tingles radiate across my body, rippling from every place we touch. Finally, finally, finally.
The biggest of small moments.
Rhoads pulls back first, relief breaking through the guard he’d had up. “So, does this mean you want to be my girlfriend?”
“Yes,” I whisper to his lips. And it’s not because we won state. It’s not because the season is over. It’s not because anyone else told me to.
It’s because I’m finally able to hear my own heart again, and I’m not afraid to follow it.