Page 48 of The Longshot

Shit.

I didn’t mean to startle her.

But why did she jump?

“Are you okay?” I can’t help but ask, concerned by her reaction.

“Yeah.” She nods, swallowing softly. “Sorry, I’m just a little jumpy, that’s all…”

I soften my gaze. “You don’t need to apologize, Chelsie.” My voice is tender. “Seriously, it’s not necessary. You did nothing wrong.”

She nods, rubbing along her wrists. They’re flaming red and slightly bruised, and almost instantly, I feel a sense of fury unleash.

“Did he do that to you?” I don’t reach out to touch her, but I know she knows what I’m referring to. “Because if he laid a hand on you, I’m going after him. I’ll fucking kick his?—”

“No,” she cuts me off, pulling her sleeve down and placing her hand on my forearm. “He didn’t. I just—” She seems to struggle with how to exactly finish the sentence. “Just—don’t go. Okay?”

I peer down at her, watching as she carefully pulls back and takes a deep breath in and a slow yet shaky breath out.

“Please, Gary.”

I meet her eyes—thankful that as I do, I can see the blue starting to come back.

“I’m not going anywhere, Chelsie,” I tell her wholeheartedly. “I promise. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

She nods, a looming smile prompting its way onto her lips as she rubs behind her head. “You… you came,” she whispers, changing the subject matter.

I relax my once tense shoulders, standing up from against the door gently. “Of course I came,” I admit, shocked that she’d even think that I’d miss out on coming today for a split second. Hell, I’d have been stupid not to have shown up. If only I had been earlier. Lord knows how long he was here. I curse myself for it…

“But why?” she asks, and for some reason, I feel like the single-word question goes beyond just that of an explanation for my presence this week. It’s like she’s asking me something much deeper, like why do you care? Why do you want this? Why… me?

“Because…” I’m cautious with how I direct my words, knowing that now is definitely not the time to be shooting my shot. “I want to get to know you, Chelsie. That’s the reason why I’ve shown up every day this week. I made you a promise, but now that time is up, and if you want me gone, I’ll go. You don’t have to ask me twice.”

I watch the slow rise and fall of Chelsie’s chest as she thinks… assesses my words until, all of a sudden, her eyes shift.

She’s come to a decision.

“Tell me, Gary.” She nervously toys with the strings of her apron. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” I’m dumbfounded that she’s even entertaining this conversation. “Um, tomorrow…” I look up in thought. “I’ve uh, got practice at four, but after that?—”

“You’ll pick me up?” She finishes my sentence with a playful look before she reaches into her apron, pulls out a scrap piece of paper, and scribbles down what I can only assume to be an address. “How does seven work?” She tilts her head in question, handing me the slip of paper. “After all, I think I’d quite like to get to know you better as well…”

I’m left speechless, though I know I need to say something, yet the second I go to speak, someone steps in through the back door, prompting Chelsie to peer back over her shoulder.

It’s Ruby.

“I’m back!” I hear her call out as she shakes the rain free from her umbrella. “Chelsie, are you here?”

“Seven o’clock.” She looks at me once more, unlocking the door as she guides me out. “And don’t be late, you promise?”

I nod as I step outside.

“I promise.”

THIRTEEN

C H E L S I E

---