Thick & Thin (Thin Love, #3)(48)

“Ransom?”

“I’m good,” I lied, leaning further against the leather sofa with my arm stretched out on the head rest. “How are you?”

“I was worried about you. We were here watching the game when…”

“Ah. Yeah, I figured. I remember Ethan inviting himself over.”

Some magnetic field had always seemed to pull us together, but time and distance, had changed that. The pull had somehow weakened in the week that I spent in Miami getting second and third opinions. Last I’d seen her, we’d promised to try our hands at being friends. When I’d suggested it that day at the barbeque, I hadn’t realized what that would mean. Back then, it had seemed possible, especially since the option of being without her was unthinkable. So, I hadn't lied. I’d meant what I’d said: Aly was the light in the distance that pulled me onward, that drew me close to home. I couldn’t be without that. But now I also didn’t know if I was strong enough to watch her from a distance.

“So? Are you still in pain?”

“I’m good,” I lied again, ignoring how her lips had tightened even further, how she gripped the tassel on the sofa pillow.

“Ransom, you got another concussion.”

“Yeah. I was there.”

“And,” she continued, ignoring my smart ass comment, “it was the third one in three years.”

“Again, not new information to me.”

“What are you going to do?” She moved closer and when her hair brushed against my arm, I had to ball my fingers into a fist. The temptation to touch her was too great.

“I’m gonna rehab, like I always do.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Why?”

“What?”

I adjusted in my seat, pulling back my arm in case our hands accidentally touched. “I said why as in, why do you want to know? It’s not your job, you know. You’re not the nanny anymore and I’m not Koa.”

She didn’t hesitate. “It’ll always be my job to worry about you.”

God how I wished that were true. I hated how quickly my heart sped at her words. I hated the small thrill I got when she moved closer to me. Aly wasn’t only offering comfort—she really did want my friendship. But I couldn’t take that. Not from her.

“I don’t think so. We aren’t together.”

“Maybe not but that doesn’t mean I don’t still worry, that I don’t still care.” She sat so close now that a few strands of her hair brushed against my shoulder. She smelled like vanilla again, but this time I noticed the gardenia scent I knew she wore in the fall. She’d change out her perfume along with her wardrobe and fall was my favorite. Dark colors that reminded me of bonfires and the turning leaves on the oaks around my parents’ driveway and gardenias, that sweet scent that always reminded me of home, family, of Aly.

It was too much of a temptation. It was too much sentimental recollection I knew that couldn’t be mine and just then, I hated Aly just a little bit for dangling what I so desperately wanted under my nose. “It’s not enough, Aly.” Then, because I wanted her leaving, taking with her all the things I loved and could not have, I cleared my throat, making sure my glare was vicious. “I’ve got enough women who want to play nursemaid for me. I don’t need another one.”

If she was shocked, she didn’t show it. Instead, Aly stood up and made to leave as cool as if our business had been concluded. But before she walked out of the room, she turned to me and said, “Well, whoever you end up with, I hope she knows how to kick your ass.” Then she swept through the door and was gone.





My mother held stardust underneath her fingernails.

Sparks of twilight, of distant lives Lived over

And over.

The same sins visited upon every woman she would ever be.

Loving men

Who thought the word was too thick on their tongues.

Poison they spat out.

She taught me to hold within my cells the mark of a millions lives.

Mine, ours.

Until

I was whole and I let you feel The tremble in my limbs and the thunder of my heart.

You were the only one to drink that poison And lie about how good it tasted.





Eleven





“Have you completely lost your mind?”

My mother was a hurricane flying in front of me, twisting and seething around me so that I would know what a disappointment I was to her. How could I not be? I was pushing away happiness as it came to me. I was deflecting the sweetest bits of my life that had once made me feel like nothing could touch me. But something had. Loss. Loneliness. The abstract solitude that felt like a freezing burn inside my chest. Aly had walked away because I had pushed her away. Mom had heard what I’d said to make her leave.

There was no way in hell I’d get out of this without being berated and served a mighty dose of that Keira Glare. Still, I had to try to calm her. “Mom…”

“Don’t you try to pacify me. My God, Ransom, she didn’t have to come here. But I thought it would help. I thought, maybe, you’d get off your ass and stop moping.”

“I’m not f*cking…”

“Do not talk to your mother like that.” Kona’s look challenged my own and, tired, feeling stupid, I relented, scrubbing my hands over my face.