Chapter 18 #2
She pokes me again, and I grab her hand to stop her. Crowding closer until we’re almost nose to nose, I stare deep into her hazel eyes, desperate to understand. “How could I break your heart when I didn’t even see you, Rosebud?”
“Because I saw you,” she cries. Her tone is defiant, but there are tears pooling in her eyes.
My stomach gives a lurch, but it’s not the alcohol. “What do you mean, you saw me?” I whisper.
“I saw you kiss her.”
My drunk mind works overtime to understand. And then it hits me. “Oh, Rosebud. No.”
A single tear slips down her cheek. She brushes it off and lifts her chin. “Oh, yes. I wanted to surprise you, so I didn’t tell you we got in a day earlier than planned. I asked around and found out you were going to be at a bonfire, so I showed up.”
My stomach sinks because I know what she’s about to say.
“I was so excited to see you. I was going to tell you that…” She stops herself and shakes her head.
“Anyway, it took me a while to find you in the crowd. There were so many people there. You didn’t see me, but I saw you.
I saw you kissing some pretty blonde. She had her hands in your hair and this blissed-out look on her face. ”
My mind conjures the scene immediately.
I don’t really want to be here. Indie gets in tomorrow, and all I want is to see her. But my friends dragged me to this bonfire with the promise that it would help the time pass more quickly. If I went out and had some fun, I wouldn’t spend the night moping in my room.
They were sort of right. I’m having enough fun to keep me here and laughing, but it hasn’t pulled my mind away from my best friend and the girl I’m in love with. Even as I stand around and joke with my friends, part of me is going over my plan to confess my feelings.
I’m going to pack a picnic. We’ll sit on the beach under the moonlight, and I’ll tell her that I’m in love with her.
That no one understands me the way she does, and I can’t imagine my life without her.
That with her, I feel free. There’s no pressure to be the best, no expectations of greatness, and no nagging sense of duty to work my ass off and make something of myself.
When Indie looks at me, the world falls away and I’m able to simply enjoy life. And I think she’s able to do the same with me. We complement each other perfectly, and no one knows me better than she does.
The bottle of beer in my hand sweats in the summer heat, beads of condensation dripping onto my skin. It barely works to cool me off, thanks to the summer temperatures and the heat of the bonfire to my right.
“So what are your plans this summer?” my friend Brandon asks.
We’re standing in a group with a few guys from our graduating class and Carrie, who tried all year to get my attention, much to my dismay.
I thought she’d gotten the hint that I’m not interested, but with the way she’s inching closer and closer to me and laughing way too loud at everything I say, I’m worried that isn’t the case.
“Mostly hanging out with Indie,” I tell him. The guys know all about Indigo. They all encouraged me to man up and tell her how I feel, and they’re rooting for us.
“That’s cool, man. You still gonna ask her to go to the draft with you?”
“The draft?” Carrie perks right up at that.
Despite the fact that most hockey players are absolute assholes, there are plenty of women who want to be with one because they think it will net them a cushy life or some notoriety.
In reality, it’s a lot of uncertainty, a lot of time apart, and it usually doesn’t mean a whole lot of money unless you’re a major player.
And there’s certainly no guarantee I’ll get to that point.
Hell, even if I go first in the draft, it doesn’t mean I’ll end up playing in the NHL.
Carrie’s nice enough, but her interest in me is shallow. She thinks I’m nice, sure, but I know it has as much or more to do with the way I look and the possibility that I could be someone. She’s not Indie. Indie doesn’t care who I could be. She cares about who I am.
“Uh, yeah. End of June.”
“Oh my god, that’s so exciting,” she says, placing her hand on my forearm.
It makes my skin crawl, but I don’t want to embarrass her, so I don’t immediately jerk my arm away like instinct demands.
She bats her eyelashes at me, offering a coy smile that makes me frown.
“I have no doubt you’ll go in the first round. ”
“You never know. They could pass me up altogether.”
Carrie throws her head back and laughs as though I’ve said something funny. God, that’s embarrassing for her.
“They won’t, silly. But just in case, how about a kiss for good luck?”
Before I can wrap my head around what she said, she goes up on her toes, wraps her arms around my neck, and presses her open mouth to mine. Her breath tastes like beer and the cigarette she smoked half an hour ago. My stomach roils and my heart rebels.
How fucking dare she kiss me? I’ve had plenty of opportunities to kiss pretty girls throughout high school, but I never have. Because I was waiting to kiss Indie. And Carrie just took that from both of us.
Disgusted, I shove her away and use the back of my hand to wipe my mouth.
“What the fuck, Carrie? I thought I’d made it plenty clear that I wasn’t interested.
I was trying to be nice by not coming right out and saying it, but I realize now that was a mistake.
I don’t like you. I’m in love with someone else. Don’t ever touch me again.”
The crowd goes silent, and all I can hear is the roar of blood in my ears. Carrie’s eyes fill with tears, but I can’t find a shred of sympathy.
She took something that wasn’t hers to take, and there’s nothing I can do about it now except hope Indie won’t be hurt when she finds out. Because I refuse to keep this from her. Even if I didn’t do anything wrong.
Night ruined, I hand my half-finished beer to Brandon. “I’m out of here, man.”
I should have stayed home and counted down the hours until I could see Indie.
Shit. Part of me has always known she saw that. It was the only thing that made her disappearance make sense. But I couldn’t let myself completely believe it, because it would mean we spent ten years separated by something that it would have taken me two minutes to explain away if she’d let me.
But she didn’t. She disappeared and blocked me, and I never got a chance to tell her what really happened.
“She was perfect, and I just knew I’d never… I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to spend the whole summer third-wheeling you two. So I called my grandma and asked to spend the summer with her. I flew out the next day.”
“Oh, Rosebud.” I lift my hands and wipe the tears off her cheeks before holding her face. “We’ve wasted so many years.”
She frowns at me. “What?”
“How long did you watch us kiss?”
“What? Why the fuck would I stick around and watch you make out with your girlfriend?” She tries to push me away, but I don’t let her.
“She wasn’t my girlfriend. And if you’d stuck around for more than a few seconds, you would have known that.”
“How was I supposed to know that? Either way, you were kissing some girl, and I didn’t want to cramp your style.”
“I wasn’t kissing her,” I say, frustrated. I’m trying to keep my tone gentle because I can tell what she saw hurt her, but dammit, I spent ten years searching for her because she didn’t stick around long enough to see what was really happening. She simply ran.
“I’m not stupid, Sebastian. I saw you.”
I shake my head. “You saw her kiss me.”
“Same thing,” she growls.
“No, Rosebud. It’s not.” This time my words are gentle. Impossibly so.
“What do you mean?”
“If you’d stuck around, you would have seen me push her away.
That girl you saw kissing me? She’d been trying all year to get me to date her, and all year, I shot her down.
That night at the bonfire, she had some liquid courage and decided to shoot her shot one last time, despite me telling her, again, that I wasn’t interested. ”
Indie’s eyes are wide, and the color drains from her face. “What? No.”
“Yes, sweetheart. I pushed her away and told her she didn’t stand a chance with me because my heart belonged to someone else.”
“Oh, god,” Indie whispers. She’s so pale now, I’m worried she’ll faint.
“You didn’t see me push her away?”
She shakes her head, tears spilling down her cheeks faster now.
I close my eyes and press my forehead to hers. “So that’s why you ran and blocked my number.”
She nods against me.
“Ten years.” I huff out a disbelieving laugh. “Ten fucking years without you.”
She blinks up at me, not speaking, but her expression says enough. Those ten years were just as hard for her. Just as lonely.
And that’s all I need to know. I don’t care that my mouth probably tastes like a brewery, or that hers is salty from tears.
I don’t care that we need to talk about this—really talk about it—or that I can see Lola watching us from the hall.
She’s not as stealthy as she’d like to believe.
I don’t care about any of it, because it’s entirely possible that the woman I love has feelings for me too.
Our teeth clash when I kiss her, but she doesn’t pull back.
No, Indigo Bloom grips my shirt in her fists and pulls me closer.
She moans when I sweep my tongue into her mouth, and her knees buckle.
Wedging a knee between her thighs, I keep her pressed against the wall and pour ten years of longing into our kiss.
Because I may be drunk, but I’m not stupid enough to say the three words tingling on the tip of my tongue. So I use it to show her.
We’re both breathless when we finally pull apart.
“Wow.”
I grin. “Yeah, Rosebud. Wow, is right.”