Thick Love (Thin Love, #2)(86)

21





Ransom wasn’t an easy man to love but God help me, I did.

Which made my little addendum to our, whatever we were, that much more difficult to bear.

“What do you mean you don’t want to have sex with me?” he’d asked just a week or so after he’d finally told me about the day Emily died. If I hadn’t been so sure about my conviction and wanting to make sure it was just the two of us in this—well, this—then I would have laughed at the frozen frown on his face. “But we’ve had sex twice. Really hot sex.”

“It was good, wi?” I’d only meant it to be flippant, just a comment on how compatible we were together. I wasn’t teasing, or taunting, but Ransom must have thought I was.

“Yeah, it was good and now, what? Now you don’t want to do it again?” He’d gotten me against the wall, something he liked to do so that I couldn’t find in me to complain about. “You want me, who has gone ages with anything resembling sex, to have a little nibble and then nothing again?”

“Nibble? Cheri, that was a gourmet meal.”

“Uh huh,” he’d said, leaning right against me and he had my mouth again, tongue and passion and working need all at once before I pushed him back, laughing at his growl. “Aw, baby, I’m hungry again.”

“I’m sure.” I pushed away from him, left him leaning against the wall while I dressed. “I just wanna make sure you call out the right chef’s name next time.”

He didn’t complain after that.

It had been nice, actually, despite the lack of being together, that we still talked every day, we still hung out at my place, sometimes on campus, though not at the team house. I minded Keira’s warning about that place.

Keira and Kona welcomed me back and Koa hung onto my leg, followed me everywhere as soon as I walked through the door the next Sunday morning. I’d expected a lecture, but I thought both Keira and Kona were so happy I’d come back that neither of them said anything to me. Sarah didn’t even mind that I’d come back. She had found Koa to be somewhat… overwhelming.

Being back with them, listening to Keira sing while Ransom played the guitar, watching after Koa, smiling at him and Ransom reading together or playing football, it all made me feel like something was happening. Something I’d never expected to get out of life. It started to feel like a family.

But with family came annoyances and worry, especially when the person you might consider building something permanent with still kept to himself when life started to bog him down.

Like two days ago when Ransom picked me up from the diner. He’d wrapped up practice, was readying for the game and as soon as I slipped into the car, I caught on quickly that he’d had a rough day.

“What happened?” I’d asked, turning toward him.

“It’s nothing to worry about.”

He did that a lot, down playing things, and it was equal parts stupid and frustrating. I wanted him open, for there to be nothing between us. I thought he wanted the same thing, but Ransom was an island with only one bridge open for crossing. That bridge was a little frayed, the ropes holding it together, a little worn and you had be damn careful that you didn’t break it trying to cross. And he too easily drew up the drawbridge when the going got tough.

He’d get this weird wrinkle between his eyebrows any time Emily was invading his mind. I’d caught on to this quickly, watching him as he slept, when something from his day wouldn’t let him relax.

He’d worn that same wrinkle as we drove through the city, heading toward I-10. “Ransom, what’s wrong?” I tried again, ignoring the non-committal grunt he released when I touched his arm. “Is it...is Emily in your head again?”

“What?” The question came out loud, shocked, and was followed by his foot on the brake and his gaze snapping at me. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard you,” I told him, not cowering from that quick scowl or his temper. “In the shower the other night, you were talking to her. And you’ve told me she was in your head.” He jerked away when I tried to touch his face and the small gestured pissed me off. “Whatever. Can we just go?”

“I’m not crazy,” he tried, voice lower, softer then.

Again I tried to touch him, but Ransom frowned, leaned against his door and I got that he didn’t want me touching him. Fine. He didn’t want my comfort, I wouldn’t give it to him. “Non, you’re not. But you can be a moody * sometimes.”

“Yeah?” He whipped his head toward me, his question coming out sharp. “Well you can be…”

“You know what? Maybe you should keep your damn mouth shut before you say something that really pisses me off.”

The door was open and I shrugged my bag over my shoulder before I slammed it closed. I didn’t bother to respond when he called after me. I wouldn’t do this. Ransom had a mother, a good one who loved him. He didn’t need another one and I left the Mustang behind before the fight could escalate.

The bus stop was only a block ahead and that’s where I waited, even though Ransom had parked his car right there, not talking to me but watching over me. He’d have never left me alone in the city that late at night. And that was us, how we had begun to settle things in the weeks we were…whatever.