Page 82 of The Keeper
“You have to talk about your panic attacks. You have to talk about whatever happened to you when you were in high school that you keep locked up tight. And you have to talk about why you’re so quick to believe the worst in a man who is falling in love with you!”
I freeze.
He leans towards me slightly, catching my eyes that are stuck wide open at his admission.
“I don’t know how many times I can tell you that I am crazy about you for you to believe me. I don’t know what I can do to prove to you thatyouare what I want, and that what we have is worth risking everything for.” He drops his hands. “But I can’t be the only person who is willing to take risks, RJ. I want to be with someone who is willing to take a risk on me, too.”
When I look up at him, I see that same sadness in his eyes that was there when he first arrived ten minutes ago.
He straightens, though. Resolve wipes the sadness from his face.
“And I don’t think you’re there yet. Whatever it is you need to work through, I get that. We all have our baggage. But if we aren’t at the same place, we can’t move forward together, RJ.”
His words are again so similar to CC’s from just a few days ago, and my heart tumbles over itself. He leans forward and kisses my forehead, his hands resting softly on my neck. I close my eyes at the tears that are brimming to the surface, as his breath whispers over my skin.
And I don’t open them again until he’s gone.
Chapter Fifteen
I wander through the next few days in an absolute haze. Laundry, grocery shopping, homework. I go to practice on Monday and Tuesday, and I spend the majority of time away from Mack, working in the gym with the other keepers. I attend classes, work on my projects, play a game against Santa Barbara.
And I clean.
Charlie’s on her semester break due to the strange nursing program schedule, which makes things even worse. She watches me wander around the apartment in the evenings dusting this and scrubbing that.
She knew something was wrong over the weekend when I came inside after talking to Mack, my eyes glassy, and curled up next to her on the couch. I didn’t say anything to her as she stroked her hands through my hair and continued to watch her movie. She didn’t ask me any questions, which I greatly appreciated. Sometimes a girl just needs to be alone with her thoughts, but not alone.
Compound my behavior that night with the fact I’ve been roaming the house like a cross between a zombie and a maid, and I know her concern is growing.
I hate cleaning.
“Okay, that’s enough,” I hear her say from behind me.
I look back at her from my position on my knees in front of the oven. I’m drenched in sweat, my hands covered in some weird oven cleaning foam, and my back aches. So as much as I don’t want to have whatever conversation is finally coming my way, my body readily accepts the mini-break it receives.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Char,” I say, wiping my forehead against the sleeve of my shirt.
“But you’re cleaning.Cleaning.Like a crazy person.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know whether to shake you or thank you, but I can’t let you just keep going. It has been almost four days.”
I let out a light huff of laughter, but I don’t respond. I just remain with my knees on the floor, resting on my heels, the silence stretching on between us.
“What happened?”
I sigh.
“He called things off.”
She says nothing. When I look up at her, her face is contorted in confusion.
“Wait. I’m lost. What?”
I close the oven door and turn it on, allowing the heat to do the rest of the work. Standing and walking to the sink, I replay the conversation at my door last night.
“He told me he was willing to take a risk on me, but I wasn’t willing to take a risk on him. And since I’m not ready, we aren’t going to work.”
I scrub my hands clean, drying them on the towel folded neatly next to the sink, then refolding it and putting it back into place.
“And the thing that kills me, is that he’s right.” I look over at Charlie. “I’m not willing to take the risk.”
