things to, even if it's a struggle.
“She's not like you,” I add. Olivia looks a bit surprised and then confused. “I mean, uh...” Shit. This is why I don't like talking, because the words never come across the way I intend them to, or they reveal too much truth. “She never pushed. That's what I mean. If I didn't want to do something, she dropped it. If I didn't talk to her for days, she took my excuse and accepted it. Afterwards, it didn't take long before she gave up on us and so did I.”
Olivia's voice is gentle as she speaks what I didn't. “You gave up on a lot of things.”
Thankfully, I'm looking at my empty plate and not her. “Yeah.”
And I did. Everything hurt so much that it seemed like the only option. Sometimes, it still feels like the only option. Anything pertaining to football, I stopped doing. My world stopped turning, positioning me on the dark side where the sun never gets to rise, and it seemed pointless to try and keep the broken pieces left of my life together. So, I gave up. I moved away. Neither made it easier.
Now, I've taken a baby step, just a little one, but I think my world moved an inch too. There's a sliver of light to be seen. It's only visible when I take a moment to stop and squint to search for it. It's better than nothing, I guess.
“Why did you kiss me that morning?” Olivia's question drags me from my thoughts as I turn in my seat to face her, my knees bumping into her thigh along the edge of the chair. “I'm curious. Why me? Why a kiss and not a hug? Why that morning? You haven't done it since. Not that I'm sure whether I want another or not, but I'm curious,” she finishes, repeating herself again. Olivia must really want an answer because she turns in her seat like I did, her knees between mine.
I've never had a girl ask me why I kissed her before. It's weird. I mean, I know I'm not chatty, but it can't be normal for her to ask me this. Knowing Olivia, a simple “I wanted to” won't suffice either. “I'm not sure this goes with your old-fashioned point of view,” I try to deflect.
She shrugs and gives me a little grin. “Sometimes, I get a little wild. It happens.”
Her response makes me laugh. Olivia doesn't seem like the type to get wild. Ever.
“You said you would talk,” she reminds me since I'm taking too long to answer. Her four fingers on her right hand rest on my knee.
With a deep breath, I close my eyes, trying to visualize that morning in my head. It feels like forever ago. I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. This feels more intimate than the other things I've shared with her today. Like I'm not just showing her the skeletons, I'm letting her get a closer look to fully examine them and discover what happened. Her fingers wrap around my wrist, tugging my hand away and causing me to open my eyes. Don't get me wrong here, I hate her pushing most of the time, but her waiting until I'm ready freaks me out even more.
“I wanted to,” I say first, just in case my words manage to twist themselves into something she doesn't approve of. “I woke up feeling good, like things could be better. There's a chance that won't ever happen again, so I took it while I could. While I felt like I could, while I still wanted to. Is that enough for now?” Why am I asking her? I offered to do this, so I should be able to say when I stop. Still, I wait for her answer.
She's watching and thinking. Her mouth parts, like she wants to ask me something. Please don't , I silently beg. She nods. “Yeah. Thanks, Corey.” Olivia leans over, placing a soft, short kiss on my lips. “How about I give you a haircut and then we go out like we were supposed to yesterday?”
“Can't we stay here?” I don't feel like leaving, especially if I have to go see Dr. Stewart later.
“No. The point of me asking was to get out of the apartment. It won't be terrible, I promise.”
I stare at her for a moment. “What are we going to do?”
Olivia sighs. “You don't
“She's not like you,” I add. Olivia looks a bit surprised and then confused. “I mean, uh...” Shit. This is why I don't like talking, because the words never come across the way I intend them to, or they reveal too much truth. “She never pushed. That's what I mean. If I didn't want to do something, she dropped it. If I didn't talk to her for days, she took my excuse and accepted it. Afterwards, it didn't take long before she gave up on us and so did I.”
Olivia's voice is gentle as she speaks what I didn't. “You gave up on a lot of things.”
Thankfully, I'm looking at my empty plate and not her. “Yeah.”
And I did. Everything hurt so much that it seemed like the only option. Sometimes, it still feels like the only option. Anything pertaining to football, I stopped doing. My world stopped turning, positioning me on the dark side where the sun never gets to rise, and it seemed pointless to try and keep the broken pieces left of my life together. So, I gave up. I moved away. Neither made it easier.
Now, I've taken a baby step, just a little one, but I think my world moved an inch too. There's a sliver of light to be seen. It's only visible when I take a moment to stop and squint to search for it. It's better than nothing, I guess.
“Why did you kiss me that morning?” Olivia's question drags me from my thoughts as I turn in my seat to face her, my knees bumping into her thigh along the edge of the chair. “I'm curious. Why me? Why a kiss and not a hug? Why that morning? You haven't done it since. Not that I'm sure whether I want another or not, but I'm curious,” she finishes, repeating herself again. Olivia must really want an answer because she turns in her seat like I did, her knees between mine.
I've never had a girl ask me why I kissed her before. It's weird. I mean, I know I'm not chatty, but it can't be normal for her to ask me this. Knowing Olivia, a simple “I wanted to” won't suffice either. “I'm not sure this goes with your old-fashioned point of view,” I try to deflect.
She shrugs and gives me a little grin. “Sometimes, I get a little wild. It happens.”
Her response makes me laugh. Olivia doesn't seem like the type to get wild. Ever.
“You said you would talk,” she reminds me since I'm taking too long to answer. Her four fingers on her right hand rest on my knee.
With a deep breath, I close my eyes, trying to visualize that morning in my head. It feels like forever ago. I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. This feels more intimate than the other things I've shared with her today. Like I'm not just showing her the skeletons, I'm letting her get a closer look to fully examine them and discover what happened. Her fingers wrap around my wrist, tugging my hand away and causing me to open my eyes. Don't get me wrong here, I hate her pushing most of the time, but her waiting until I'm ready freaks me out even more.
“I wanted to,” I say first, just in case my words manage to twist themselves into something she doesn't approve of. “I woke up feeling good, like things could be better. There's a chance that won't ever happen again, so I took it while I could. While I felt like I could, while I still wanted to. Is that enough for now?” Why am I asking her? I offered to do this, so I should be able to say when I stop. Still, I wait for her answer.
She's watching and thinking. Her mouth parts, like she wants to ask me something. Please don't , I silently beg. She nods. “Yeah. Thanks, Corey.” Olivia leans over, placing a soft, short kiss on my lips. “How about I give you a haircut and then we go out like we were supposed to yesterday?”
“Can't we stay here?” I don't feel like leaving, especially if I have to go see Dr. Stewart later.
“No. The point of me asking was to get out of the apartment. It won't be terrible, I promise.”
I stare at her for a moment. “What are we going to do?”
Olivia sighs. “You don't
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