Nepenthe (Bracing for Love #2) (18 page)

To spite her, I do speak. “I don't need to do either of those things ever again, so why would I?”

She grabs my arm and waits until I turn around to face her. “You loved the game, Corey. Your dad signed you up and he loved watching you. I bet he would toss it with you, wouldn't he?” He did. Reluctantly, I nod. “Don't you want to be able to do that one day with your own kids? Don't you want to be able to toss the ball with them, go to their games, or talk about football with them? I know that's a long way in the future, but you need a reason to want to do this, so I'm giving it to you. Think of the future children you may have.”

Future children? Is she serious? I'm about to tell her to get out, just so the damn ball can get away from me, but she speaks again.

“You lost the ability to play, but you did not lose your love for the game. You miss talking about it with your brothers. You can still do that.”

“If I won't talk to you, what makes you think I'll talk to a therapist?” I decide to go back to the first thing she said.

“It's different. You'll see, if you would make an appointment.”

“How do you know?”

She hesitates before answering. “I've seen a therapist before. Look, I've got some homework I need to do, so I'm going to do that.” She places the football on my end table next to the couch. “And I'm going to leave this right here.”

Then she leaves. Call me crazy, but when I sit down on my couch, it's on the opposite side, far away from the ball. Where the hell did she even get it? I know she doesn't have one sitting around in her apartment. My eyes keep leaving the TV to slide over to the ball. I used to lie in bed and toss it up in the air when I wanted to clear my head. My mind is too clouded with the damn football that I can barely focus on the fact that Olivia has seen a therapist before.

Two hours pass with the ball's imaginary eyes following me all around my apartment. Finally, I walk over to the end table. My hand hovers over it. In a sudden movement, I pick it up. The weight is painstakingly familiar, the bumpy texture a comfort and an annoyance. After my injury, I threw my football in the trash. I vowed to never pick up another one. There was no need and definitely no want.

Olivia picks this moment to walk through my door. She stops short when she sees me. She closes the door quietly as if she doesn't want to disturb me. A little too late for that. Still, the football stays in my hand. It's like an old friend has returned, one you know will leave again or one that's no good for you.

She stands behind me and wraps her arms around my waist, resting her head against my left arm, so she can peer around me. It's a new ball, that much I can tell.

“When did you get it?”

“Bought it this past week.”

Interesting. “How long have you wanted to have that conversation with me?”

Her arms fall and we move to the couch, my grip still tight on the ball as she sits next to me.

“Since you made the appointment, but I knew I needed to wait,” she admits. I lay an arm around her shoulders, so she'll lean into me.

“Holding it feels like home and hell,” I reply with a confession of my own. I'm torn between never letting go and throwing it across the room, hoping to never see it again. The memories come slowly, starting with the first games I remember playing and leading up to some of my best moments in college. With a light trace of reluctance, I give Olivia the ball back. “Here,” my voice strains to say that one word.

I can't hold it anymore. The memories blur to the harsh reality of my injury and all the hopes I placed in a simple, stupid game. It ruined everything for me, stole all of my dreams, and left me in a hole so deep, I can't get out.

“Do you want me to take it back to my apartment or leave it here?” Olivia's tender voice brings me back to the present.

Damn it. Why is she giving me an option? “I don't care, but it has to get away from me.” My chest feels too heavy and every breath is becoming a struggle. “Right now, Olivia,” I add, my voice rising a bit when she doesn't move fast enough.

“Okay.” She stands and leaves me long enough to return the ball to her apartment. It's easier to breathe after that. She comes back and sits next to me, placing her legs across mine as she leans her head on my shoulder. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I wonder what she's doing today and if she'll hang out with me. Maybe I should get out of the house for a bit. I don't feel like it completely, but it sounds like something Olivia would suggest I do. Might as well try it, I guess. “Want to do something with me today?”

Olivia glances up at me. “Are you finally asking me out?”

“No,” I quickly answer.

“Why are you so against it?”

Because I can barely stay sane. I'm mean to her sometimes, even though I regret it later because I didn't mean it. I'm unstable. My mood, my want to have her around, my happiness, it's shifting all the time. She deserves better than that. She deserves stability. Until I feel like I can give her even a fraction of that, I'm not budging on asking her out. How can I seriously consider it when I'm not in a good place right now? She's going to stay Olivia, my friend and the girl who can use her see-into-my-soul abilities to help me.

“You've already put me through enough today with the football, Olivia. Don't start a round two. I need an answer before I finish changing my mind.” I lean my head back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. I swear, one of these days, I'm going to stop looking at it. There's no way normal people do this as often as I do.

“Well, it depends.”

At this, I lift my head and rest my gaze on her. “What are you talking about?”

“Are you against all sports or only football?”

What does that have to do with anything? “I'm not against all of them. I think,” I add, in case I need a way out of whatever she wants me to do.

She smiles, like she caught on to my loophole. “Ricky, Chelsea's boyfriend, plays baseball and she wants me to go with her to see him play today. First game of the season. Do you want to go with me?”

Crash the day she's hanging out with her friend? No, thanks. “No, that's okay. Go have fun with Chelsea.”

“I thought you wanted to do something with me? Why are you saying no? Chelsea wouldn't mind. In fact, she'll be thrilled at the opportunity to embarrass me and get to know you better.”

“Does she like me?” Do I care whether or not her best friend likes me? If she approves of me?

“Yeah, so far, she does. Are you coming?”

“I guess,” I sigh.

Olivia smiles, giving me a quick kiss before standing up. “Good. I'll drive. We leave in five minutes. I have to run to my apartment first.”

It isn't until she's almost to my door that what she said clicks. “Wait a damn second, Olivia. You aren't driving,” I object, turning to face her.

“You always drive.”

“Because you can't without almost killing us.”

I should've known her grin was evil. “Live a little, Corey,” she replies before leaving me.

“I'M WALKING HOME,” I declare as we walk through the bleachers towards Chelsea. Olivia laughs. I almost died. Three times. First, she pulled out in front of an eighteen-wheeler. I saw my brief, sad life pass before my eyes as she gunned the gas. Then, she came within inches of rear-ending someone. Let's not forget she almost hit a pedestrian in the parking lot.

“You're overreacting, Corey.”

I am not. I don't have time to tell her so before we're sitting next to Chelsea. She smiles and we exchange greetings.

“I didn't know you were coming, Corey. It's good to see you again.”

“You too.” Why am I here again? I'm not a conversationalist. How am I supposed to survive an entire baseball game with two girls? Clearing my throat, I tack on, “Which position does he play?”

“Shortstop. What have you two lovebirds been doing today?”

Lovebirds? Olivia saves me from answering as she takes my hand. “I've been doing homework all day. Corey's being a baby about my driving.”

Chelsea laughs. “How many near-death experiences did you have on the way here?” she asks me.

“Three.” The corners of my mouth lift a little. I'm not the only one who thinks Olivia is a hazard on the road.

Olivia rolls her eyes as Chelsea responds, “I'm surprised it was only three.”

“Can we talk about something else already?” Olivia inserts.

“Sure.”

The national anthem pauses our conversation. Once the game starts, Chelsea begins her own interrogation.

“You work with Olivia's uncle, right?” I nod. “How are you liking it?”

I wished she hadn't asked. Only because Olivia and I haven't really talked about my new job. She knows I've had good days and I'm enjoying it, but that's all I say. It's the only thing I want to say right now. To answer Chelsea's question, I simply say, “I'm enjoying it.”

“You're a man of few words, aren't you?”

“Yeah.” Her question makes me nervous for some reason, so I clear my throat. “How did you two meet?”

It takes every last drop of energy in me to focus on the words spewing from their mouths, to pay attention, and to contribute. By the time we're walking up the stairs to our apartments, I'm ready for a nap. Olivia, however, is a different story. She's grinning at me when we stop outside our doors. I don't know what she wants us to do, if anything. I don't even know if I'm up for exerting more effort.

“Why are you grinning like that?” I finally ask when the smile doesn't go away.

“You did good today, Corey. You even seemed relaxed at times.”

I was. Every time I started to get antsy and ready to go, Olivia would use her see-into-my-soul shit and touch me. Either by taking my hand, leaning into me briefly, or wrapping her arms around my waist. It was enough to make me feel better for a little while longer. “I was, thanks to you.” She smiles. “If you want to hang out, it's going to have to be my place.”

“I was going to fix us dinner.” It's a half-hearted protest to keep me out a little while longer, but it's not going to work.

Pressing my lips against hers in a soft, short kiss, I tell her, “Then cook in my kitchen.”

Olivia nods. “I'll get the stuff.”

We disappear into our respective apartments. I toe out of my shoes and shrug out of my jacket before turning on the TV and lying down on the couch. A happy sigh of relief comes from me as I sink into the cushions. Home at last. My eyes get heavy, drooping until they close.

“COREY.” OLIVIA'S SWEET voice travels to my ears as she shakes my shoulder. I blink my eyes open a few times before focusing on her. “Dinner's ready. You okay?”

“Yeah, why?” I sit up. Both of our plates and drinks are sitting on the coffee table. I cover a yawn with my hand.

She sits next to me. “The only time I've ever seen you take a nap is after working with my uncle.”

She's worried because I took a nap? True, I didn't technically do anything tiring today, but it's not like I'm sleeping every chance I get again. Olivia is still watching me, looking concerned. “A nap is just a nap, Olivia.”

Finally, she nods and we pick up our plates. The silence between us is welcome. Afterwards, Olivia is about to clean up, but I pull her back on the couch with me.

“I'll get it later. You cooked, I'll clean. Stay here with me.”

Today's been good. It's one of those days where I want Olivia more than anything. Having her tucked against my side, her hand on my thigh, and just her being on the couch with me, is driving me crazy.

Until she speaks, killing all the good.

“I want to go for round two.”

My fingers, in midcircle on her arm, freeze when she speaks. Round two. Does this mean we're going to talk about why I won't ask her out? I swear, every time we have a remotely good day, she always ends up dragging me back down. I wonder if she realizes that. She helps so much, but she'll mention something and bam. The majority of my happiness during the day is sucked right out of my body.

“Olivia,” I start, wanting to stop it before I begin wanting her to leave.

She sits up, placing a hand on my chest as she pushes herself away from me, so she can look at me. “Hear me out first. If you don't want things to change yet, that's fine. But if we're going to continue like we are, I at least want to know why. I need to know where your head is for my own sake.”

For a moment, anxiety poisons my blood. Have I missed something? Maybe because I won't move forward, I've hurt her without realizing it? She said
if
we're going to continue like we are. Does that mean my answer might change things? I'm nowhere near a place where I can handle losing her.

“Hey,” her soft voice startles me out of my thoughts. “Stop thinking and start talking.” When I give her a pained expression, hoping she'll let it go, she takes my hand, keeping her eyes fixed on me. She's not going to budge either.

Reluctantly, I nod. How am I supposed to tell her without saying everything? If she's already hurt, there's a good possibility that what I'm going to say could hurt her more. I shift and reword my thoughts, but nothing's helping. Finally, I let the words flow.

“You told me I wasn't broken, that I wasn't healing and couldn't stand up yet. I don't want to move forward until I can stand on my own. How in the hell am I supposed to do all those relationship things when I'm having trouble taking care of myself? How am I supposed to be there for you when I don't even want to be around you sometimes? What does it say about me that I'm selfish and say mean things to possibly the nicest person I've ever met?

“I can't do it, Olivia. Everything is so fucking unstable, and you deserve way more than that. Way more than I could give you right now. I'm a mess, my life is a mess. I'm in no position to tack on a relationship.” A million emotions have been passing over her face, none of them looking good. I cup her cheeks, needing to touch her because I feel as if I'm on the verge of losing her.

“Here's what you need to remember out of everything I've said. I want to. God, do I want to, Olivia. But this is one thing you can't push me on, okay? I want to feel ready. I want to feel like I'm at a place where if I ever did lose you, I'd be able to bring myself back from hell without you there to help me. You said I wouldn't, but anything's possible, and I need to be able to handle it. Because if I were to lose you, with where I am today, that's definitely going to happen.