Page 53 of The Keeper
I shrug and twiddle the keys in my hand.
“It’s your story to tell. I didn’t want to pry.” He doesn’t say anything, just continues to assess me. “I figure she’s important to you, since you talked me into watching two hours of high school football so I could meet her for five minutes.”
I want to ask more questions. How long have they known each other? Did he move to California to be closer to her family? How are they on speaking terms when he played a part in her current wheelchair-bound state? But as the stream in my head continues, I keep my verbal filter firmly in place.
Mack exhales loudly, resting his hands on his hips. He looks around, then turns to lean back on my car, looking out at the emptying parking lot.
“I went through some stuff after the accident. Some personal stuff. As soon as I got my head on straight, I tracked her down. I met her boys, her mom. We just clicked. I had spent hours on the plane rehearsing what I was gonna say to her, but she barely let me get out one word when we met. She just gave me a big hug and asked if I wanted some coffee. Brought me into her kitchen and sat me down,” he laughs. “Pretty much pulled my entire life story from me.”
He clears his throat and looks down at me.
“She didn’t judge me for one minute. She’s always got a positive attitude, and I wanted to be a part of her life. Do whatever I can for her and her family since I took such a huge part of her away from them.”
I nod.
“You have a lot of character. So does she. It doesn’t surprise me that you’d find each other and develop a relationship.” I smile, thinking of Cherise’s bright, positive attitude. “She seems like someone who doesn’t let anything get in her way.”
He chuckles slightly at that.
“No. She definitely doesn’t. I always feel like I don’t do enough, but she always reminds me that I can’t be a crutch for her. That she still has to live a life where she’s capable of doing everything on her own.”
“Self-reliance is an admirable trait.” In the moment, I’m talking about Cherise. But my response is heavily rooted in the importance I place on being able to take care of myself.
“Being able to accept help and care from others is also an admirable trait,” he responds.
I turn my head to look at him next to me, leaning back against my car with his arms crossed, his eyes focused in the distance. His jaw is tight, a frown on his face.
“It frustrates you that she won’t let you do more.” When he doesn’t respond, I continue, unsure of where the boundary is. How much I can say. But if what Mack and I feel for each other has any chance of lasting, our streak of honesty will need to continue.
“You have to remember that she wants to feel capable. Stepping in and doing things for her might feel good for you, help assuage whatever guilt you still feel, but it probably makes her feel helpless. Like she’s a charity case.”
“That’s not how I feel about her,” he clips.
“I know that,” I say, my voice soothing. “I never said you did. It’s just important to make sure you understand that she mightfeelthat way.” I step away from the car and stand directly in front of him. “You’re a good person, Mack. Regardless of the things that have happened. You have a great heart, you’ve done everything you can to make amends for the damage you believe you’ve inflicted. You obviously care about learning from the past rather than repeating it.”
His eyes search my face, his words escaping his mouth as if he’s unsure whether they should be spoken.
“What if the things I’ve learned make me feel like I have to go after things that are important, even when it might be wrong?”
I don’t know how to respond, so I don’t.
He reaches out and puts a hand on my hip, his eyes watching his own movements as his thumb slips under my shirt to rub small circles on my hip. I let out a shuddered breath as he steps into me, his other arm wrapping around me to bring me into an embrace that I can’t help but return, my hands resting on his muscular back. His warmth seeps through my thin shirt, his breath tickles my temple. His words are a whisper.
“This is something important. I can feel it. I’ve never,ever, felt like this before.” He brings his hand up and tilts my chin so I’m looking at his handsome face. “Tell me we can figure this out, RJ. Tell me that meeting you a few months too early doesn’t mean either of us are going to miss out on something amazing.”
I take a deep breath. And hold it. Rational Rachel wants to say it can’t work. She wants to stay rooted firmly in logic and what she can control. There are just too many things in the way. His job, my scholarship, both of our futures.
But it isn’t Rational Rachel who lets out the deep breath. “We can figure this out.”
The words are barely from my mouth when his lips are on mine, his hand slipping back to twist into the hairs at the nape of my neck. I grip his shirt, giving it a slight tug, before sliding my arms fully around his waist and holding myself as close to him as I can.
I expect the kiss to be hard and punishing, a reflection of the frustrations we’ve both felt over the past week. But his arms hold me reverently, as if I’m a treasure. His hand in my hair twists around playfully, massaging at the base of my neck. And his lips are soft, sweet.
Our kiss feels like a drunken haze, as if we have all the time in the world. And while I’m not sure exactly how we are going to ‘figure this out,’ knowing we have time to try makes all the difference.
Chapter Ten
Drop, kick, kick, kick, knee, knee, knee, knee.
