This Is Falling(76)

When I look up into her eyes, the tears are threatening to fall even more, and she’s breathing in deeply through her nose, just trying to stay strong. If she runs from me now, it will kill me. It will absolutely slay me. But it would still be worth it. Just getting the chance to tell this girl I love her once would be worth all the pain in the world.

Rowe leans forward until her head is pressed against mine, and only then do the tears fall from her eyes, landing on her legs in front of me. I reach up and rub my thumbs gently under each eye, and she leans into my palm, her eyes slowly opening to look at me, her heart pounding so hard I can feel it in every part of her body.

“You didn’t dip your shoulder,” she says, and my lungs fill completely with relief and hope—and so much goddamned love for this girl that I can hardly stand it. I bite my tongue, but I can’t help the enormous smile pushing up the corners of my mouth.

“No. I didn’t,” I say through small, breathy laughter, reaching down to grab her hand in mine and kissing it. “Anything else you see wrong with my swing…coach?”

“No,” she says with a small quiver, letting one last tiny tear fall through her smile. “Well, maybe the follow through. Oh, and your feet are a mess. And your head moves a little…a lot. But, other than that…”

“God, I love you,” I say, pulling her face close to mine and pressing my lips to hers so hard, she can barely squeeze out any more words. But she does.

“I love you, too, Fifty-seven.”





Chapter 23





Rowe





This is living.

It was like I was born the moment I told Nate how I felt. Coming here, to McConnell, was a breakthrough for me. But loving Nate—letting myself be human and feel something again…that was breaking free.

My parents will be here in the morning, and my belly is full of nerves over it, but they’re happy nerves. I don’t know how I’m going to introduce Nate, but I know my mom and her intuition, so I don’t think I will have to say much. I just hope they love him as much as they always loved Josh.

Josh was a part of our family, almost from the very beginning. He spent time with my father without me. Sure, usually talking baseball. But there was a love there, a connection. I desperately want them to feel that with Nate.

“There, smell better?” Nate says, coming in his room after showering. His hair is wet and twisted in all directions. I love the way the ends are golden from the sun.

“It’ll do,” I tease, causing him to toss his wet towel from his hand at me.

“I’m pretty sure you’re staying here again tonight. I think that’s the real reason Ty wanted us to make up,” Nate says, slipping one of his McConnell baseball shirts over his head. I’m a little disappointed that he does, because if anything is going to happen tonight, Nate is going to need to be the aggressor. I’m too…I’m just too new at all this.

“Yes, I bet he’s glad to end the fussy fuss,” I laugh.

“Oh god, I swear, him and fussy fuss! He used to make fun of me when we were kids with that damned phrase. He’d punch me, steal my ice cream, and then tell Mom I was making a fussy fuss.”

“That’s mean.”

“Right? I’m such a victim,” Nate says. He sits next to me and folds his hands together and leans forward to rest them against his knees. His smile is shy and uncomfortable, and it’s sweet. We both keep stealing glances, then looking away as soon as we’re caught. It’s funny how putting your feelings out in the open can add this whole new layer to your world. We both seem to be sort of stuck, not knowing what to do with one another or how to act. And I wish like hell he’d just kiss me and keep going.

“You wanna get him back?” I say, just trying to erase the awkwardness in the air.

“Huh?”

“Ty. You wanna get him back? You know, for the years of abuse?” I raise my eyebrows, and Nate stands up with a big smile.

“Uh, yeah I do. What’d you have in mind, Prankmaster?”

“Oh, so you acknowledge that I am in fact the master now, do you?” I say, standing and poking at his chest. He pulls me in for a quick kiss.

“You had me at pink,” he winks, and I roll my eyes.

“Okay, Jerry Maguire.”

I spend a few minutes looking around Nate and Ty’s room, pulling open a few drawers and looking for just the right point of attack.

“He has a Playboy in here. We could pull some pages out and glue them into his textbook so they show up in class,” I suggest.

“No, Ty would actually like that. In fact, I think he’s done that before,” Nate says, joining me to flip through drawers and look under Ty’s bed.