Page 84 of The Hook Up
“Thank you, Mr. Ty.” Henry grinned and ducked past as Ty reached out and tousled his hair.
“Thanks for having me here, little man,” Ty said.
“Thank you for coming.” Henry looked up and shoved his glasses up his nose. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, Mr. Henry.”
“I’ve been working on being a gentleman,” he said, shifting from one foot to the other. “The good kind.”
Ty held out a palm and solemnly shook Henry’s hand. “So have I.”
Ellie’s heart clenched tight in her chest as Henry let go of Ty’s hand and scampered out the door with his classmates.
Then, she was alone with Ty.
She stared at him a moment, then unfolded herself from the desk and stood up. “Thank you,” she said. “Miriam and my brother must have told you I was in a jam with career day.”
“Yes,” he said. “But that’s not the only reason I came.”
Ellie blinked hard, watching his eyes. “Why did you come?”
He reached out and took her hands in his. Electricity arced up her arms and straight to her core. It was the first time he’d touched her since that night he’d said goodbye, and she shivered from the pleasure of it.
“I came to say I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“Oh,” she said just as softly. “You don’t have to?—”
“And I came to say I love you, Ellie,” he said.
She must have looked stunned, because he squeezed her hands and kept talking, almost like he feared he wouldn’t be able to get the words out if he stopped.
“I came because I screwed up, but I’m hoping you can forgive me,” he said. “I’m hoping you can give me another chance, and then learn to have patience with me while I figure out how to be a better guy.”
Ellie’s eyes filled with tears, and she took a deep breath before she answered. “You’re already a great guy.”
He squeezed her hands again, offering a small, heartfelt smile. “I’m working on it,” he said. “But I want to be a better one. For you. And for Henry.”
“Ty—”
She didn’t know what else to say, and tears clogged her throat, so she settled for nodding like a big, mute moron. Ty smiled and reached up to touch her face.
“Will you forgive me, Ellie?”
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
“There’s plenty to forgive,” he said. “There always will be. But I think that figuring out how to do that over and over again is the trick to making it through life.”
Ellie’s face broke into a smile, and she reached up to touch him. Her fingers traced the stubble on his jaw before sliding down to skim his shoulder, his collarbone, his chest?—
Ty flinched. Ellie pulled her hand back, startled. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Did I hurt you?”
He shook his head then smiled at her a little sheepishly. “It’s just a little tender,” he said. “It’s still healing.”
“What’s healing?”
He glanced toward the door, but they were alone, surrounded by empty desks and the minty smell of paint and waxy crayons. Slowly, Ty reached up and undid the first three buttons on his shirt. As he pulled the fabric to the side, Ellie gasped and brought her hands to her mouth.
“Oh my God!” she said. “You covered up Johnny Cash.” Ty nodded and gave another crooked smile.
