Collide (Collide, #1)(53)
Emily searched his eyes and was able to see the pain that swirled beyond them. “You loved her,” she whispered.
He gave a quick shrug. “Yeah, she broke my heart. I thought she loved me for the man I was without the glitz and money. I mean, when we first met, I was in my senior year of college, so it wasn’t that I was as successful as I eventually became. She betrayed the faith that I had in love when she left.” He pressed his lips into a hard line. “Don’t get me wrong; looking back on it now, I know we weren’t made for one another. One, she was too concerned about the way we appeared in public—anything from what cars her and I drove to what parties we attended in the city.” He rubbed at his chin absently and continued. “She wasn’t like that when we first met; the change was gradual. Our biggest difference was that she made it clear she never wanted children. I loved her enough to consider a life without having any, but like I said, looking back, she wouldn’t have been worth giving up the chance to have a family.”
A faint smile touched Emily’s mouth. “You want kids?”
“I want bucketloads tucked neatly into a minivan,” he laughed.
“Gavin Blake in a minivan?”
“Absolutely,” he replied, reaching for his beer. “A funky forest green one, too.”
Emily laughed for a moment at his admission. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he adjusted his baseball cap, feeling a little shocked by everything he just told her. She was now starting to understand his need for filling voids.
“So you haven’t seen her since?”
“I have actually. I saw her recently to tell you the truth.”
“So how did that go?” she asked reluctantly.
“It was…interesting. I ran into her while out with a couple of my buddies. She talked a bunch of shit, saying she was happy to see the company doing well again. She admitted she missed me and still loved me, and then she confessed that leaving me was the biggest mistake of her life.” He popped another peanut in his mouth and smiled. “You can see where I’m going with this, right?”
“Yes. Now that you’re financially secure again, she wants you back.”
“Bingo, doll. I knew you were quick.” He took a swig of his beer. “Besides, her name is Gina, and mine, of course, is Gavin—two Gs. I think it was an omen or something—destined to not work out.”
Although he laughed, Emily could still see the leftover pain in his eyes and decided at that point to drop the subject altogether. “I got the invitation you sent to me and Dillon.”
“I was going to ask you about that,” he replied, motioning to one of the workers selling beers. He ordered another and turned to Emily. “I figured it would interest you, considering…well, you know.”
“Yes, and thank you for the invite, but what is it that your mother does exactly?”
“Since she knows she’s blessed being a survivor herself, she started an organization to raise money for those in the New York area affected by the disease—women who are either in the midst of battling breast cancer or in remission and the families of women who died from the disease. The donations collected at the benefit are spread out to help pay for ongoing treatment, follow-up care, or—God forbid—funeral expenses incurred by the families.”
Emily breathed out. “It’s beautiful that she does that.”
“Yeah, this will be the tenth year since she founded it. She throws it every October during Breast Cancer Awareness Month. It’s pretty spectacular, too. Black tie, champagne, and all of New York’s well-to-do gathering for one evening to spend their money on something other than a f*cking cruise to Fiji or a new car.”
Emily laughed. “Well, we’ll definitely be there.”
“And I’m happy that you will.”
With not a cloud in the sky, the opening ceremony began, and soon after, the game was in full swing. A hard crack of the bat, plunging the ball into the outfield, started the Yankees off on a high note. Throughout the game, Gavin repeatedly brought unwanted attention to Emily, letting every Yankees fan within earshot know that she was rooting for the underdogs, the Baltimore Orioles. Fans from the front, side, and behind them booed her every time the Orioles scored a point. She playfully nudged Gavin, promising retaliation in whatever form she could conjure up. Still hungry and feeling more relaxed with the overall situation, Emily ordered a pretzel and decided to have a beer with Gavin. By the bottom of the seventh inning, the game was tied four-four, bases loaded with the Yankees up to bat.
Gavin smirked in Emily’s direction and rubbed his hands together. “Your ‘birds’ are about to go down.”
“You seem pretty confident about that,” she laughed, looking at him. “I wouldn’t be too sure though.”
Gavin’s eyes flicked down to the corner of her mouth where there was the smallest amount of mustard, painfully awaiting for him to wipe it off. Without even thinking—in one swift motion—he brought his hand up to her lip, and with the pad of his thumb, he whisked it away.
Startled by his sudden movement, Emily flinched back.
“There was…mustard on your lip,” he slowly replied. Quelling the urge to lick it off his finger, he grabbed a napkin.
“You broke the no-touching-me rule,” she breathed out, ignoring what her body was fighting so hard to deny. Even as fleeting as it was, his touch felt insanely good in an insanely bad way.