Page 48 of One Night

"Amber." He pauses until I look at him. "I know you're not telling me the whole story here. So what is it? Why'd you quit gymnastics?"

"There's no other story. I told you, I wanted to do other things. I got into cheerleading, which took a lot of my time, and then I joined some clubs and did some volunteer work and I just didn't have time to keep up with gymnastics."

"And?" His eyes bore into me, urging me for the truth, the other reason I quit.

But I'm not telling him. I never even told Kira, and she's my best friend. The truth is, I quit because I thought it was tearing my family apart. I thought it was the reason my parents weren't getting along. Gymnastics used to consume my life, and the life of my entire family. My parents were constantly taking me to practice and meets and competitions out of town, which took time away from them being a couple. They couldn't have date nights. They had no alone time. And all my training was expensive. It put a strain on their finances and they started fighting about money.

By high school, I realized I had to quit before things got even worse. But it didn't do any good. They fought even more. So I can't say for sure I was the reason for their relationship problems, but if it was even a possibility, I had to end my gymnastics career.

"You ever regret quitting?" Dylan asks.

"Sometimes, when I see a competition on TV. Or when I watch the Olympics. Kira and I both dreamed of going to the Olympics. But dreams change and now here we are." I force out a smile and pull my hand from his and peel the wrapper from my muffin.

"So now what's your dream?" he asks, sitting back in his chair.

"I don't know. I haven't decided. How about you?"

"Not sure. I kind of just take things day by day and see what happens. In a way, I kind of feel like I'm already living my dream. I always wanted to be in a band and I have been for years now." He picks up his coffee and takes a drink. "You ever going to come hear us play?"

"I've heard you play," I say, tearing off a chunk of muffin. "I went to one of your concerts back in August."

"That was months ago. I think it's time you come hear us play again." He smiles. "I'm your boyfriend. You've gotta come hear me play at least few times."

I smile back. "You're not my boyfriend. We're not even dating."

"We write each other love letters. Well, at least I do."

"Hey, I—"

"I'm just saying. I'm pretty sure the guidelines of an old-fashioned romance would say that writing love letters signifies a relationship, or a courtship if we're using old-fashioned terms. That would mean I'm your boyfriend, or beau, if we're continuing with the old-fashioned terminology."

"Then what does make me? In old-fashioned terms?"

"Hmm. I'm not sure what the equivalent for beau is. Sweetheart? Darling? Kitten?"

I laugh. "Definitely not Kitten. I'd feel like I should be walking around in a cat suit."

His eyebrows rise. "I'd actually like to see that."

I point at him. "Stop it. Wholesome thoughts only. Got it?"

He takes the hand I was pointing with and holds it in his, leaning across the table. "You can't control my thoughts. I can think whatever I want. Imagine you wearing all kinds of things. Or nothing at all."

He's going to kill me with his flirting. Kill any resolve I had to stay away from him.

Clearing my throat, I say, "So going back to names, I think girlfriend will do. Or just friend. Either one works."

"I think I'll go with sweetheart. It fits you."

"Why does it fit me?"

"It's classy. A little old-fashioned yet still in style. And it says a lot with just one word. It doesn't need explanation."

I'm trying to figure out what that means. I think he's complimenting me, saying I'm classy and a mix of modern and old-fashioned. But what does he mean when he says it doesn't need explanation? Is he referring to the fact that he knows what I'm thinking without me saying it? If so, that's true.

So I guess sweetheart does fit me.

How did this happen? I wasn't even supposed to see him today, maybe not even for weeks. And yet now I'm having coffee with him and we've given each other names. And kissed.

---