Life In Reverse(95)

The bar in the back glows blue and I jerk my chin in that general direction. “Do you want a drink first? Or if you’re hungry, we can eat.”

Her tongue darts out in a slow swipe across her lips and I swallow hard. “Scared, are you? Trying to prolong your defeat?”

“All right, smartass.” I shrug off my jacket and toss it on the couch before we both move to our respective sides of the table. As we volley, one game turns into more and I’m surprised to discover she’s really good, beating me two out of three games. I drop my paddle on the table and scoop up my coat. “You weren’t shitting me.”

“Nope.” She places hers down and crosses to my side. “And I have five years of camp to thank for that. Horseback riding and swimming weren’t the only things we did there.”

“You thirsty, hungry now?”

“Just thirsty,” she answers, shouts of encouragement and groans of defeat loud in our ears as we stroll through the lounge. Ping-pong games at various stages being played all over the room. “This place is so cool.”

“I’m glad you like it.” A few guys leer at her as we pass by and I tug on her belt loop. I want them to know she’s mine. Or I hope she will be. “Come closer, you’re too far away.”

The whole time we’re at the bar I keep her near. While waiting for our drinks, she fans a hand in front of her face. “It’s really hot in here. Are you hot?” She slides her arms from her jacket and lays it over the back of the chair. Tiny beads of sweat dot her forehead and as my eyes drift lower, the curve between her breasts. My tongue fights to stay inside my mouth. Her question pries my gaze away. “Are you still reading a lot?”

“I am.” The bartender places a beer and a glass of wine down in front of us. “Last night for example, I couldn’t sleep so I read into the morning.” I sip my beer, eyeing her over the rim. “I’ve been getting into paranormal dark fantasy lately, and I was halfway through with a book so I finished it.” Her stare is hard, disconcerting. It settles on my face like a heavy weight and my hand goes to my earring, rolling it between my fingers. “Ember, what is it?”

She moves her head back and forth, a vacant expression on her face. “I don’t want to make small talk right now, I….” Her voice trails off and she looks away for a few beats. When she comes back to me her cheeks are flushed, breathing rapid. “It’s really… hot. Can we get some air?”

“Of course.” I retrieve my wallet and toss a few bills on the counter. As she grabs her jacket from the chair, I reach for her hand to entwine our fingers together then lead us outside. Once we reach the sidewalk, Ember lets out a visible breath. “Are you feeling all right? Do you want me to take you home?”

“No,” she replies a little too quickly. “I don’t want to go home. I just need air is all.”

“Okay.” The mood hovers thick as we walk the city streets. Ember is almost too quiet and I’m starting to think the worst. The longer the silence, the more the worry eats away at me. “Ember, are you sure you’re all right?” I ask again. She nods, only it doesn’t match up with the stiffness in her shoulders, the rigid set of her jaw. Unease continues to take root in my stomach until I’m ready to erupt. We turn a corner and Ember ducks into an alleyway between two shops, as I wait for whatever it is to come pouring out.

The heels of her boots slap against the pavement as she paces. With my fingers in a fist, I squeeze tight and brace myself for whatever I have coming—that I most certainly f*cking deserve.

“After you left….” She takes a slow breath in then lets it out. “I told you that I blamed my mother. And I did. And then I blamed you. But when all was said and done, and the anger subsided, I blamed myself. I became one of those girls who thought that,” she stops pacing and looks up at me, the pain of regret abundant in her eyes, “that maybe if I had only told you sooner how I felt or,” she lets go of a sharp swallow, “did something differently. That you wouldn’t have left.”

“Oh, Ember—”

“No. Let me just get this out,” she presses. Another breath falls in the air between us. I’m not sure if it’s hers or mine. “Avery used to tell me that for someone who was so outspoken, and didn’t care what others thought, I have such a hard time saying what I want for myself. And she was right. But I don’t want to do that anymore. Especially not with you. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.” Her gaze shifts, eyes softening. “You asked me a question, and I’d like to answer it now.” I nod, my breath held tight in my throat.

“You asked me if I was in love with Grant.” The mention of his name makes something wilt in my chest, makes him real—makes me realize all that time she was with him, she could have been with me. Ember exhales a ragged sigh then slays me with her eyes. “I tried to return his feelings, I did. He’s a great guy, but…,” a single tear sneaks out and cascades down her skin, “I couldn’t be with him, not when my heart belonged to someone else.” Her voice goes quiet, too quiet, as if her words might drift away. “When you left, you took it with you, and I didn’t feel it again until I saw you on the train.” She shakes her head as more tears roll down her cheeks. “The love, it just wouldn’t go away. It still won’t.”