I didn’t know what to say, because I felt helpless. I couldn’t solve this problem for her. This wasn’t a typical college problem like I need to get my GPA higher or my landlord won’t fix the heat. This was… a real world problem. One I wished I could take on, but I knew that I couldn’t. I clenched the covers, wanting to smash something. “I wish I could fight who this is for you.”
She reached for my hand, a soft smile curling her lips. “I don’t think you’re a fighter, Lavin.”
“What do you mean? My fists could be classified as weapons of mass destruction in some countries.”
Her body shook, and I was worried she was going to cry again until that smile grew. “Oh yeah? Tell me the last fight you were in?”
“Eighth grade. Kevin Burns.”
“And what offense did Mr. Burns commit?”
“He stole my Rice Krispie treat out of my lunch box.”
She gasped dramatically. “And how did you make him pay?”
I rolled my lips between my teeth before letting them out. “I kicked him in the nuts.”
She threw back her head with laughter and dropped her head onto my lap. She gazed down at me with wet eyes. “Thank you.”
“For kicking Kevin Burns in the junk? He deserved it. Thief.”
She shook her head with a smile. “For making me laugh.”
I hooked a strand of hair behind her hair that had escaped from her ponytail. “I like making you laugh. Not everyone finds me funny, you know.”
“You don’t say.”
“Some even find me,” I lowered my voice to a horrified whisper. “Annoying.”
“Monsters. All of them. With no sense of humor.”
“Damn, right.”
Her smile faded as the reality of her situation showed once again in her brown eyes. “I’m a mess. You should find a nice girl who wants to be an elementary school teacher and has nice parents who’ll invite you to barbecues.”
Squeezing her shoulder, I said. “This hypothetical girlfriend sounds really nice, but there’s one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“She’s got zero beau-sence.”
She bit her lip, and I thought she was holding back laughter until a tear tracked out of the corner of her eye. “Hey,” I whispered.
“I can’t,” she said. “I came here because I heard you got hurt and it freaked me out. I haven’t been able to think of much else but what happened when you came over. You deserved to understand why this can’t work.”
She sat up and I reached for her. “Wait, what?”
Evading my touch, she slipped off the bed and began to fix her hair. “I came to explain and say…goodbye.” Her voice shook.
“Bianca, I don’t want to say goodbye.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Please, Lavin.”
“No, that’s not what I want. You said I didn’t get a choice at first. You’re right. But I can choose now, right?”
Her movements were hurried now as she wrenched her hair through the elastic band. “It doesn’t work like that. I spent time with you and let you care for me without knowing the consequences up front.”
“You let me care for you? What kinda shit is that? You think because you’re beautiful that it’s inevitable every guy will fall for you?”
She whirled on me, fire in her eyes beneath the tears. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Well that’s how it sounded. A beautiful face doesn’t cover a shitty personality. You could have been some bitchy, mean ice queen, and then I’d want nothing to do with you. But you’re not. You’re funny and spontaneous and you make me feel like I can take on the world. That’s who I see when I look at you and that’s the person I care about. I might be a virgin, but I’m not some dumb kid who falls for the first girl who makes his dick hard.”
My face burned, eyes stinging. Jesus fuck. Was I going to cry? I set my jaw, doing my best to look hard and not like I was about to fall apart. Bianca’s mouth was gaping, staring at me like I had three heads. “Lavin,” she whispered.
“I want a choice now.” I slammed my fist into the bed. “If you’re just trying to let me down easy and you don’t actually care about me, then tell me now. But if you actually give a fuck about me like you say you do, then let me have a choice now. Please.”
“I don’t want you involved.” Her eyes were leaking, tears slipping from her bottom lashes.
“I’m not scared, Bianca.”
“You should be.” Her breath shuddered. “I am.”
I took a step forward, her weak voice killing me. I would have given anything to have the confident Bianca back who dragged me into the field house pool.
She held up a hand, stopping me. “You don’t even know what you’re getting into. We can wait until we find my stalker. I’d never ever forgive myself if you got hurt. You have to understand. I pushed you away once and it killed me.”
My heart lurched. “Then don’t do it again. You say you were selfish. If you want to make it up to me, then this is how you can do it.”
We were at an impasse. She wasn’t giving in, and neither was I. How many times had I backed off from things I wanted? Too many to count. And now, standing in my room as I watched Bianca fight a war inside of her, I realized I never fought because I hadn’t wanted anything as bad as I wanted her.
“Please,” she whispered, and I could feel how close she was to breaking, how I was seconds away from pulling her against me. “Don’t do this. I don’t want to cave, but you’re making it so hard.” She bit her lip. “I need you to understand that I haven’t wanted anything in a long time as much as I want to be with you.”
My breath stalled in my lungs, her words like a one-two punch knockout. “Bianca,” I took a step toward her, just as Shane’s voice drifted up the stairs, his husky laughter drawing our attention. He walked toward my room, my phone held out in front of him as he talked on it. Finally his eyes lifted to me and he turned my phone so I could see Pop’s face on FaceTime. “Your parents.”
I snatched the phone from him with narrowed eyes. “Did you use my injury as an excuse to call them?”
He held up his hands, grinning. “No way. Your phone was downstairs when they called.” He raised his voice in the direction of my phone. “Bye Papa Bear!”
“Get out,” I pointed to my door and he sauntered out.
I knew I’d made a mistake when I looked down to see I’d turned my phone enough so that the camera caught on Bianca. Both my dads were peering into the camera and Dad’s eyes were bulged out of his skull. “Is that a girl in your room?”
I ran my hand over my face, groaning and wishing I’d never woken up from the concussion. Bianca, within seconds, had pulled herself together. Her eyes were still a little red, but her face was clear of tears and she was beaming into the phone. It wasn’t her real smile though. “Hello,” she said, waving at Dad and Pops. “I’m Bianca.”
“Bianca,” Dad whispered the name like he was meeting the Queen of England.
I faced the camera on me and me alone. “Hi. I’m doing great, thanks for asking. I feel loved.”
“Who is that girl?” Dad asked.
Pop’s laid a hand on his arm, a silent gesture to take it easy, but Dad was beyond calming at this point. “Lavin, why is she in your room?”
“She’s a friend.”
Dad looked like I’d kicked his puppy. “A friend?”
“I gotta go,” Bianca said quietly, reaching for her keys.
“Wait,” I said.
“Is she leaving?” Dad asked. “She can stay!”
“Thanks for your permission,” I growled at the phone.
“Don’t use that tone,” Pops admonished.
“Bianca,” I called after her, but she was already in the hall, running down the stairs. I thought for a second about hanging up on my parents and chasing after her. I was tired of us walking away from each other with so much unfinished business tangling up the strings connecting us.
But she was upset
, and my head hurt like a bitch. I sank down onto my bed. “Sorry,” I muttered. “It’s been a long day.”
Dad’s hands were clasped to his chest, and Pop’s arms were around his shoulders. “Tell us about it,” Dad said.
So I did.
Later that night, I stared at my phone, biting my lip as I replayed the conversation with my parents. I told them everything. Every little thing. Because I always did. Because at the end of the day, they were the best men in my lives, the best people I knew.
Life hadn’t been easy for them either, as an interracial gay couple who wanted a baby. Not that my situation was nearly as tough as what they’d gone through to fight for the family they wanted, but they knew how hard hearts could pull us toward other people.
They hadn’t told me what to do. They were concerned for my safety, but they also understood how I felt about her. Dad had said we needed to communicate. No more secrets.
I heaved a sigh and texted her.
Lavin: So? Do I get a choice or not?
It was close to midnight by the time she texted back.
Bianca: Please take a week with no contact from me and think about it. If you still want to see me, meet me at the Corn Festival in town Saturday at 4.
Lavin: Deal.
* * *
I didn’t hear, see, or talk to Bianca for a solid week. By Tuesday, I respected the hell out of her request. Out from under the fog of her—her voice, her scent, the warmth of her eyes, I could think more clearly. By Thursday, I knew that if I showed up Saturday, I had to be sure. I had to seriously think about what I was getting into.
On Friday, I got back from class and immediately went to my room. I pulled my door shut and sat down on my bed with my notebook open to a blank page. At the top, I wrote Pros and Cons to Dating Bianca. I drew a line down the middle of the page and wrote Pros and the top of on column, and Cons at the top of the other.
I started with the Cons, because bad news first.
1. Possible death/injury at the hands of a stalker
2. Possible death/maiming/benching at the hands of Coach
I tapped my pen on the page. The Coach thing sucked, but I didn’t think he’d actually bench me for dating his niece. I did anticipate a lot of yelling though. But I could handle that if Bianca was with me.
I traced over the numbers, staring at the page. I couldn’t think of any other Con. So I moved onto the Pros. The Pros were easy.
1. Making her laugh.
2. Seeing her smile.
3. Kissing her.
4. Adventure
5. Beau-scence.
6. Having someone in my corner.
I chewed on the end of my pen and then finished with a flourish.
7. Boobs.
I really felt like I wasn’t being honest with myself unless I put her glorious rack in the Pro column.
The lopsided lists glared at me. One thing that I couldn’t list in either column was my absolute fear of regret. What if I didn’t show up Saturday? I was only twenty, but I’d meant what I said—what drew me to Bianca was her. Not her body. It was the way she got me to open up, have fun, be a little less self-conscious. It was the way she laughed with me instead of at me. She was the whole fucking package.
I couldn’t give up at the first sign of trouble. What kind of man would I be? She was lost here. Alone and scared. I’d never live with myself if I turned my back on her.
Twelve
Man to Goat-man
We were late. I blamed Shane because the fucker required a shower and clothes after practice before he’d come. Diva.
I stood at the front door, hand on the doorknob, while Dre and Zac waited nearby avoiding my eye contact. “I swear to God, Castle,” I shouted up the stairs. “If you’re not down here in thirty seconds, I will flay you alive!”
I counted to fifteen until he emerged on the steps, blue eyes laughing at me. “Calm down, Ramsay Bolton.” He tugged a hoodie over his head. “You’re the one who woke me up requiring my attendance at this damn thing.”
“It’s for Bianca,” I snapped at him as I opened the door.
He pointed a finger in my face, and I saw the rare Castle temper. “And that’s the only reason I put up with your attitude today, Saint. So fucking watch it.”
I pressed my lips shut as my roommates followed me out the door. Shane was right. I was being a dick, but I was on edge. What if she changed her mind and wasn’t at the corn festival? What if she was right and this was a terrible decision?
Waking up at the ass crack of dawn wasn’t my idea of a good Saturday, but I’d been unable to sleep the moment a ray of sun had hid my eyelids. So I’d ran a shit-ton of miles, went to practice, showered, tried in vain to work on a paper, and then spent way too long fretting over my clothes. After that, I’d tried to do something with my hair and had been about to punch the mirror before Shane took pity on me and did something to my brown hair with a flick of his wrist. I’d never looked better. I’d tugged on my nicest jeans, a pair of boots, and a flannel button down with a tan Carhartt jacket. I’d been about to change because I wasn’t sure the lumbersexual look was in anymore, but Dre told me I looked fine. I trusted Dre, because the man scored more chicks than the entire soccer team combined.
I’d brought back up in the form of Dre, Zac, and Shane who were currently trailing behind me on the sidewalk. Bianca could be mad later, but I’d told them the truth about her. Not all the details, but that she had a stalker and it freaked her out. When I’d asked them to come along, they hadn’t complained. Shane was only giving me a hard time. He didn’t deserve to be hollered at. They were probably regretting even being friends with me at this moment.
I heaved a sigh and turned around. When I caught the wary look in three sets of eyes, it was clear I’d been an absolute asshole all day. “I’m sorry, guys. Shane you’re right, I’m a dick and you could all be doing a thousand better things today, but instead you’re chaperoning my date.”
“Told you it was for Bianca.” Now Shane looked guilty as he lowered his eyes. Fuck, he was a good guy.
“I’m sorry I threatened to flay you alive.”
“It’s fine, but you’re only allowed butter knives for the next week.” He grinned at me.
I shoved him with a laugh. “Deal.”
Dre checked his watch. “Glad that’s cleared up. We need to walk.”
Oh right, we were late. Shit shit shit.
I turned and walked briskly, thankful for the footsteps that fell into step beside me. Behind, I heard Zac mutter, “I expect deep fried Oreos for this. Your treat.”
“Swear to God, Zac, if you all stick by me and help make Bianca feel safe, I’ll buy you an entire food truck of fried Oreos.”
“Watch it, I might propose if you did that.”
I puffed out my chest. “I’m taken.”
“As you keep telling us. All day. Ad nauseam.” Shane rolled his eyes, but a grin tugged at the corner of his lips.
The good thing about Parksburg was that it was so small, walking everywhere was easy. We strolled to the entrance of the fairgrounds at 4:20 and paid the admission fee to get inside. The Corn Festival was an annual thing that had only gotten bigger since I was a freshman. Food trucks were everywhere, along with booth games manned by carnies who yelled at anyone who walked by to try their luck at winning huge-ass stuffed animals. In the distance, I saw a few amusement rides already running. A mini Ferris wheel stretched to the sky, little carts swaying with people, and a spinny thing was whirling near it. I knew in the barn nearby were some competitions with the local 4-H kids. From what I heard, they showed animals and had some calf-tying and horse barrel races.
And of course, there was corn everywhere. Corn on a stick, corn soup, corn salad, and every kind of popcorn imaginable. We walked by a booth where a woman stood over a massive kettle pot, stirring kettle-cooked popcorn inside, which was a salty and sweet mix.
My stomach rumbled just smelling everything around me, and I eyed a chicken barbecue stand, b
ut we were already late. Plus, I was on the hunt for a black-haired beauty. When I glanced at the guys, they were all serious, eyes scanning their surroundings like they were my Secret Service. I knew I was expecting a lot of them, as we were really only a small step above some frat bros, but they were good guys. Plus, they loved Bianca. Not as much as me, but close.
“So where is she?” Shane asked.
I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from wringing them like an old man. “I don’t know. She just said to meet her here.”
Dre raised an eyebrow. “Amazing attention to detail, Saint.”
“Shut up,” I muttered.
We spent another ten minutes looking for Bianca, so by the time 4:30 came around, I was starting to sweat despite the cool fall temperatures. I ran my sleeve across my forehead and it came away damp. “Shit,” I said. “Did she give up on me?”
“Text her,” Dre said.
“Yeah, because if we have to walk by the fried Oreo stand one more time without getting any, I’m going to riot.” Zac stared longingly at said stand.
I pulled out my phone, but before I even had a chance to glance down at it, the crowd in front of me parted. My eyes latched onto long dark hair, and I stopped in my tracks.
She was there, leaning over a picket fence, petting the nose of a brown and white pony. From what I could see, the petting zoo also had another pony, a few goats, a pig, and some chickens. The pony’s tongue came out and licked her fingers. I heard her laughter, and my pulse quickened.
“There she is,” I breathed.
I ignored Shane’s muttered, “Fucking finally.”
I strode toward her. When I drew close, her head came up, and I steeled myself for her anger, for her to be guarded. But instead her mouth broke out into a huge grin. “Lavin,” she said softly, and then her eyes drifted over my shoulder. Her brows lowered in confusion. “Uh, hi guys.”
“I hope it’s okay I brought them,” I gestured to my friends behind me. “I thought you’d feel safer if it wasn’t just the two of us.” I stepped closer, lowering my voice so only she could hear. “I told them. Not everything. But they were there when I saw the video, so they know what job you had. I told them you had an overenthusiastic fan and that you didn’t always feel safe. They’re more than happy to help.” I waved a hand. “Well Zac is only happy because I bribed him with Oreos.”
FALSE 9: Red Card Series Page 13