Page 24 of Where We Belong
“I’m sorry about being rude last time. It wasn’t about you.”
His face sobers for a second. He dips his chin, then brings his smirk back when he says, “Not the first time you were rude.”
I fight an eye roll, which he seems to find immensely funny. “Just shut it and accept the apology,” I say.
“I do. Thank you.”
With a nod, I say, “All right, well—”
He nudges his chin in the direction of my bag. “I thought today was an off day?”
“It is. I’m, uh, going to take pictures for my social media.” It sounds even more stupid when I say it out loud. “Sponsors like it, and I kind of need them right now,” I admit.
“You’re going to take pictures of yourself by yourself?”
“I’ll build a makeshift tripod.”
“I’ll come with you, it’ll be way easier. And don’t—”
I beat him to the chase. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.”
He sucks air through his teeth with soft shakes of his head. “One day, you’ll accept my help. I swear it.”
I smile. I don’t think I ever will, but I also don’t think anyone has ever tried this hard.
“I appreciate the offer. Really.”
He watches me for a moment. I’ve noticed this man has no sense of embarrassment when doing so. If he feels like staring at you, he will, brazenly so.
“I’ll get through to you,” he says, then turns around to walk back to the ATV.
As I focus on his departing silhouette—if he can stare, then so can I—my thoughts drift back to what Lilianne revealed this morning. For a moment, I want to ask him to turn around and tell me all about it. I want to know if he’s completely healthy now, or if there’s more to the story. I want to know what happened.
I don’t think he’d like that, though. If he hasn’t mentioned it to me, then he likely doesn’t want to. We all have things we’d rather keep hidden. If people don’t know about them, they kind of stop existing, if only for a moment.
I let him go, but not before I run up to him and put the five dollars in his back pocket. When he spins around, I’m already walking toward my car.
“Darling, if you wanted to touch my ass, you just had to say so.”
I bite my cheek to keep my smile in check, then walk backward as I shout, “You’re impossible, Finnegan.”
“I return the compliment, Crabby.”
Chapter 9
Lexie
“Goodjob,girls!”
My last group of the day gives me high five after high five, the ten preteens walking off the floor mat where we were stretching a minute ago. They’re not at a competitive level yet, but I’ll suggest a couple names to Shelli that I think could make it to the more advanced group for the next season.
I crack my neck left and right as I watch them get their things from the lockers, all the while trying to kick my own ass to get to work myself. It’s been a long week. Now that I’m settled on what competition I’m going to attend, I need to get my skills back to a pristine level, and I haven’t given myself much leniency. I don’t have that privilege. The first of the small competitions I registered for is less than a month away, and the last thing I want is to embarrass myself out there. I could use a win, especially since I haven’t had much luck with sponsors yet. A few of the ones I had when I was still in Phoenix messaged me to let me know they’d be watching my comeback and cheering from the sidelines, but they haven’t offered to take me on. With a medal, maybe I could tip the balance.
I wave goodbye to the last of my girls still here, and because I’m too lazy to start training right away, I take my phone out of my back pocket and open my Instagram account. As much as I hate it, I need to check it more frequently now that I’m looking to get something out of it.
I have notifications of likes and comments on the photos I’ve posted recently. The majority are nice, but some of them are nasty. It was the same thing a few years back, but it never becomes easier to read.
Who are you again?
