Dear Life(42)

A laugh pops out of me. “I wouldn’t say star player.”

“Rookie of the Year with a batting average that rated second in the National League, pretty sure you’re their star player.” Her hair falls to the side, vibrant red strands caressing her cheek, emphasizing the light spattering of freckles on her cheeks.

I wiggle my eyebrows. “Reading up on me?”

She shrugs, a light blush still staining her cheeks. “I used to be a huge sports fan, and I can’t help but read about my teams on occasion.”

“Used to be?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

All she has to say is one word for me to understand. “Eric.”

“Fair enough.” I lean forward, clasp my hands together, and look at her from under my bill. “But we’re going to have to fix that.” With a wicked smile, I meet her eyes, and fuck me, they’re sparkling right back at me.





CARTER


You know that feeling you get when anger eclipses you and you can’t think of anything else to do besides slamming your fist through a wall? That’s where I am.

Daisy, fucking Snowflake. She gets under my skin, buries herself deep within, and shows no plans on leaving.

At first, when I was texting her, I was trying to be nice. It seemed like she wanted someone to talk to, and hell, I kind of wanted someone to talk to as well. She fascinates me. But then I took it a step further and baked with her.

All innocent, right? Wrong.

I’m not an idiot, I saw the way she was looking at me, I caught her staring every once in a while, caught the way her eyes would roam my body.

And hell if I didn’t do the same thing. Under those khakis and turtlenecks, there is a beautifully pure woman waiting to break free. She’s hesitant, a little skittish, but from the look in her eyes when I would lean close, I could see something else: yearning.

And that’s why this is all fucked up because a part of me wants to see where that yearning could lead, but I can’t because I’m a bitter bastard who would destroy her. She’s sunshine and rainbows; I’m rainclouds and puddles. I match well with girls like Sasha, who share the same hate I have toward life. I don’t go for girls who can easily see the good in everything.

I knew coming to the meeting tonight was going to be hard, but I didn’t know it was going to be this hard. Even beneath the corduroy pants and crewneck sweatshirt with a watering can on the front, I felt the pull between us, like our beings were trying to attach themselves together. I wanted to talk to her, ask her how her fucking day was, if she brought me any cookies. But that almost seemed too intimate. So, I did what I do best. Acted like a dick.

With a foot propped against the wall, my arms crossed over my chest, I wait for Daisy to come out of the bathroom. It’s only a brief five minutes before she appears and when she does, I immediately notice her red-rimmed eyes. Shit.

“Oh,” she says, startled when she sees me. “Um, excuse me.” She tries to sidestep me but I grab her by the wrist and stop her. When I spin her back around, she’s shocked, maybe a little scared.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, just wanting to get this over with. “I didn’t mean to be rude to you or hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t,” she replies with a brave face and lifted chin.

“No?” I cup her cheek and wipe under her eye with my thumb. “Then why are your eyes wet?”

Searching my eyes, she tries to formulate a response. She tries to lower her head but I don’t let her. She lets out a frustrated breath and asks, “Why don’t you want to be my friend? I might be different, but I’m still a nice girl.”

“Yes, you are a nice girl, Daisy. That’s the problem. You’re pure, the furthest thing from me.”

Her nose scrunches up in a cute way that makes me want to . . . no, not going there.

“I don’t understand.”

Retreating away from her, I run my hand through my short, dark hair and say, “I’ll tarnish you, Daisy. I’ve done things, seen things that would make you blush, quiver, think again about ever stepping outside your house. I’m not the kind of person you should be hanging out with.”

“And who are you to decide that?” she asks, puffing her chest out, surprising me.

“Listen, I know your kind—”

“No, you don’t,” she shoots back, poking me in the chest. “Do you know why? Because I don’t even know my kind just yet. I’m still finding myself, so don’t prejudge me before I can find out who I am. That’s not fair to me.”

“Daisy, I’m too much of an asshole for you to be hanging around with.”

“That may be true,” she says honestly. “But maybe I need a little um, butthole in my life.”

We both pause, mulling over her words, both cringing. Daisy is the first one to laugh out loud and cover her mouth while shaking her head. “Oh goodness, that sounded really bad.”

Laughing with her, I nod. “Pretty gross, Snowflake.”

Smiling brightly, she nudges my shoulder and says, “You know what I mean. And hey, maybe I might not need a butthole, but you sure do need some rainbow in your life.”

“Stop saying butthole, please,” I beg jokingly.

“Seriously, Carter. We both want to break free. Stop pushing me away and let’s help each other. I need a partner in crime, will you be that person for me?”