Page 36 of The Game

“I told you I’ll get this,” Rob says, brushing my hand away. That gesture itches at the place inside me that’s used to being brushed aside as the youngest of six.

I love the cozy corners of the downtown library. I’m always inspired when I’m surrounded by stacks of books. Today, we settle at one of the big tables in the group study area. Rob’s sitting next to me, so I can show him the grant applications I’ve been working on. But he’s so massive I have to shift my knee away to avoid him infringing on my space.

“Okay, so this one is specifically for female college students graduating with a business degree, so that’s perfect for me.” I run my finger down the mostly filled out questionnaire. “The only thing I’m worried about is this section. They’re looking for an example of a business project you led that earned a profit. I could use last years from entrepreneurship but I’m not sure if it’s strong enough.” My nose scrunches up at the taste of the eraser on the end of the pencil I absently stuck in my mouth to nibble on.

He leans his head closer until we’re almost touching, then turns his head. His eyes drop to the pencil between my lips. “What’s the application deadline? If it’s not too tight, you could use the project for Laybourne’s class. Who are you paired up with?”

Right. The charity event. It didn’t connect in my brain that would be considered profit, but we’re going to be makingmoney. Hopefully, lots of it. For a good cause. I’ve got an idea to run a coffee shop style event with a silent auction. “I’m working with Amira.” My eyes run down the application. The deadline isn’t until the end of the year. “That’ll work. I’m actually really excited about that one. Thanks for the suggestion. So, what have you got going on? Anything I can help with?” I lean back in my chair to put a little distance between us.

“I didn’t bring any business stuff with me since it was more of a social thing.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, thanks for coming out to help me.” I feel a little unsettled. Off balance, but I don’t want to sound ungrateful. I’m glad he came out to help me with my stuff, but I’d feel better if I could return the favor. After my last relationship, I’ve gotten uncomfortable when I feel like I owe someone something. Darryl would always hold it over my head if he changed his plans for me or paid for dinner. I want to pull my own weight whenever I can.

“Any time, Jazz.” He takes a sip of his coffee, leaning into me again.

I shift in my seat, gathering my papers. “Okay, I should head home now. I’ve got some work to do for my econ class.”

He stands up while I’m still stuffing things in my bag. “Why don’t you come back to my place? We can work on econ together.”

Mind’s whirring, looking for an excuse. Why do I even feel the need to look for an excuse? I have every right to say no. I hate this doubting side. “Nah, I’m pretty tired. I’d like to gethome, do my work and hit my bed. It’s been a long day. I worked an open shift before I met up with everyone.”

His eyes widen. “You did? Sorry about that.”

Sorry? What’s he sorry for? That I have to work to pay for a lot of the expenses of school? Sure, my scholarships help with tuition and books, but my family has six kids. They definitely don’t have the unlimited resources to help us all through college.

We snag our coats on the way to the front door.

“Can I give you a ride home?”

“Actually, I can walk from here. My apartment is not that far, but thanks for the offer.”

The sky is layered with pinks and oranges as we step out the front door, turning to the left. I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.

Rob glances to the right then matches my stride to fall in beside me, feet crunching on the multicolored leaves littering the path.

“I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s fine. My legs could use a good stretch after all that sitting, anyway. Plus, I’d feel bad if I let you walk home by yourself.”

My tense shoulders ease up. Darryl is making me paranoid. He’s a good guy. Making sure I get home safe. And it will be handy to have him with me if my ex pops up again.

“Thanks.”

My place is less than a ten-minute walk from the diner, but we fill the silence with talk of our classes, and how the year is shaping up. Before I know it, we’re walking up to the glass front door of the small building.

I fumble through my big bag, once again cursing myself for not carrying a smaller bag or at least organizing it better.

When I finally find my key and get the door open, I stumble as it gives way. There’s a question in Rob’s eyes when I turn around.

“Well, okay. See you in class.”

His face falls just a touch, but then he smiles.

“See you soon, Jazz. Let me know if you need any more help with those grants.”

“Will do. Thanks again.”

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