tell her how much I want her and need her… how much I crave her, but I don’t want to scare her off, so I’m going to let her come to me.
“Yeah,” she eventually says, her eyes glued to our hands.
“Do I have any rules… anything I should or shouldn’t do?” I ask, wanting to know my boundaries. Because if she doesn’t want me to touch her or show her affection, I’m going to need to know that now.
“No,” she says quietly. “I don’t think so.”
“So, it’s okay if I want to hold your hand?”
She gives me a small smile, nodding her head. “Yeah… I guess that’d be okay.”
“What about kissing you?”
Her blush tells me she’s probably not much into PDA, so I don’t push it.
“Okay, hand holding,” I tell her. “And maybe I can slip an arm around your shoulder and cop a feel?”
Covering her face with her free hand, she tilts her head back and laughs.
“Hand holding… like we’re back in third grade,” I mutter. “Got it.”
“You held hands with girls in third grade?” she asks, turning to face me.
It’s my turn to smirk—a cocky, self-assured, you-don’t-even-want-to-know smirk.
“I didn’t even kiss a boy until I was in the tenth grade,” she admits.
Inwardly, I cringe. “Let me guess, Asher?”
She nods, biting down on her lip and averting her gaze to the floor.
“Hey,” I say, reaching over and tilting her chin up so she’s looking at me. “You don’t have anything to be embarrassed or ashamed of, okay? Everybody is different and I like who you are, regardless of your past. If anyone has anything to be ashamed of, it’s Mindy and Asher, got it?”
“Got it.”
“Alright,” I say, opening my door. “Let’s go watch some football and give these people something to talk about.” She laughs, and instead of exiting out the passenger door, she slides over and follows me out of the truck, our hands immediately joining back together.
I feel her squeeze my hand a little tighter as we approach the gate, and I get the feeling she’s holding my hand for moral support more than anything else, and I’m reminded once again of my role.
Friend.
Part of me wants to ask her if she feels like having sex with me was a mistake, but I’m not sure I want to know the answer. The way she freaked out wasn’t unexpected. I should’ve seen it coming. She’s guarded her heart so closely since the day we met. It shouldn’t surprise me that us giving into our desires would cause her some distress.
The mind can be a scary place.
All I want is for her to not try to put what we have in a box. We don’t have to just be friends. We can be friends and more. But if she’s not ready, I understand… and I’ll wait.
Following her lead, she guides us to the bleachers and I see her take a deep breath before she releases my hand and makes her way to a sectioned off portion of the stadium.
Welcome Class of 2009
“Tempest,” a woman with platinum blonde hair says, as we take a few steps into the reserved section. “I was wondering if you’d show.” Her blue eyes bounce between us scrupulously. “Who’s your... friend?”
I feel Tempest tense, her spine going rigid. Placing my hand gently at the small of her back, I non-verbally tell her everything she needs to know.
I’m here.
I’ve got your back.
“This is Cage… Erickson,” Tempest says, glancing briefly over her shoulder and giving me a tentative, but grateful smile.
“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure,” Blondie says, reaching around Tempest to shake my hand. “I’m Stella Wilson, Class of 2009 class secretary and captain of the cheer squad. Go Pirates!”
Choking back my laugh, I cover it with a cough and then finally shake her hand so I don’t make this any weirder than it already is. “Nice to meet you.”
“So, Tempest tells me you’re from out of town,” she continues, her eyes all over me. “What brings you to Green Valley?”
“I work at the Pink Pony,” I tell her, hoping that will effectively shut her up so we can move to our seats and away from her. She’s poison. My bullshit detector is usually spot on, and without Tempest even telling me anything about Stella, I could probably describe her perfectly.
If I had to guess, she’s probably always walked around with her nose in the air, thinking her shit doesn’t stink. When in reality, she’s insecure, so she has to make other people feel weak