Page 40 of Just a Little Crush
“I just want her car sorted, and for her to be OK.” I crouch down and put my head in my hands before I punch a hole in the wall.
“You want to know what I think?”
“No,” I grunt.
“I think you’ve had a thing for her your whole fucking life. I think you’d see she’s got a thing for you too if you opened your eyes. I think this accident scared the shit out of you, and I think you’re afraid to admit it. I get it. I’d be a mess if something like that happened to Hannah.”
Unlike me, Jack manages to not be a total fuck-up when it comes to relationships. He and his wife, Hannah, just celebrated their eighth anniversary. I guess that’s more experience than me. And apparently now makes him some sort of guru.
It seems ridiculous now, but I thought I was heading that way with Sophie because that’s what people do around here. My parents were high school sweethearts, so were Bec’s. When I scared her out of the country, I figured I’d had my shot and blown it.
I sigh and shake my head. “She’s too good for me, Jack.”
“Bullshit. I don’t know why you think that. You’re a good man.” I look up at him, leaning against the doorframe marked with our heights over the years. I’ve always been bigger, in age and stature, but from here he’s the real deal. A proper grown-up. His face is sincere, he actually means it, and he cares. But he’s got no fucking idea what I’m like.
“You’ve got to tell her how you feel,” he says.
I stand up, grab my phone, and push past him. “I’ve got to go.”
“Ali,” he calls after me. “Find me the car and I’ll see what I can do.”
21
Rennie
Iswingbythesupermarket on the way home and text Bec to ask if she needs anything. Her reply is three aubergine emojis, so god only knows what dinner will be. From the car, I call Bec’s folks to give them an update on her progress. Then I try her insurance company again, hoping another person might be more understanding. I just want to give her a bit of good news. If anyone can get her car back in order, it’s my brother. I’d feel better if it was under our roof and not rusting in some junk yard somewhere. Once again, it’s a dead end.
The house is quiet when I get in. I find Bec dozing under a blanket on my sofa. The low autumn sun streams in through the patio doors, bathing her in gold. It makes my heart ache to see her there. How good she looks. How right it feels to come home to her. I want more of this. To come home to her every day. To cook for her, care for her, be with her.
My uncle isn’t wrong.
My brother isn’t wrong.
I love Bec, and I have no idea what to do about it. I’ve never felt like this. I don’t have words to describe it, let alone tell her that, for me, this is more than just helping her out.
But the things I crave are not the acts of a man in love. A man in love is caring and gentle. The last time I pushed past that, she moved to fucking Australia. Bec says she’s never told anyone about these things she wants, which makes me think she’s got no idea what she’s letting herself in for.
I try to keep the noise down while I unpack the food, but soon spot her stretching her body out. I see her entire thought process unfold as she takes a second to remember where she is, then turns her head to look for me.
“You’re back,” she says. A sleepy smile spreads across her face. She’s cute as fuck, twitching her nose and rubbing her eyes.
“I’m back.” She pulls herself up and while she fixes her hair, I notice something is different. “Why is your wrist guard off?”
“It’s fine, Rennie, honestly,” she flexes and rotates it. “See. And it was starting to stink.”
“Well, take it easy. And get that leg propped up.”
“Yes, Sir,” she teases and does as she’s told.
“How do you want me to cook these aubergines?” I ask from the other side of the kitchen counter.
“What aubergines?”
“These aubergines,” I wave one. “You asked for three.”
Bec bursts out laughing. I don’t get it. “You don’t know about aubergines?”
“No, I’m a meat and potatoes guy.”
