Page 96 of I'm Gonna Get You Back
I scoff. “Yeah, me and every other guy on the team. But I’m the only one who can’t seem to keep up with it all. If I lose my scholarships, that’s it. We can’t afford it otherwise.”
“Is that what your dad said?”
I shrug, and understanding crosses her face. I don’t have to respond for her to know.
“You haven’t told him?”
“He’ll freak.”
“Yeah. And he’llhelp,” she says simply. “Reid, you can’t keep this from him. You can’t figure this out alone.”
Frustration starts to claw at me. I do my best to keep it at bay. “What difference does it make?”
“Whether or not you finish college? A pretty big difference.”
“It’s just—” I stop myself.
She scoots closer, crossing her legs under her. “What?”
“I thought it would feel different—when I finally got to this level.”At her silence, I scrub a hand across my jaw, the stubble scratchy against my palm. “Like all the hard work would’ve meant something. But it’s… hollow. I’m not sure it even matters to me.” My voice catches, and I clear my throat. “I know that makes me sound like a prick.”
She shoves me lightly. “Not possible.”
I shrug like that isn’t the point and stare at my hands, which are bunched around the sheets.
Her voice is quiet but firm when she says, “You give your jacket to anyone who looks cold, you made even the slowest person on the team feel like they mattered because you stayed until everyone crossed the finish line, you’re honest in a way that makes people trust you, you believe in others more than they believe in themselves.”
Her gaze snags on something behind me.
“And your favorite character fromGlass Swordsis Ziva.” She leans across me to grab one of the dog-eared books from my nightstand and holds it up for emphasis. “Ziva. The sworn-shield with the heart of gold who everyone else in the fandom forgets about.”
She’s so close now—our shoulders pressed together, the lilac scent of her hair present with every breath—and all I can think to say is, “Because the kingdom would’ve collapsed without Ziva. He never surrendered.”
Her expression is pained and understanding all at once. “It’s okay to surrender sometimes.”
I’m completely thrown by the care in her tone. I swallow, try to keep my bearings. I stare at the poster that sits on the wall opposite from us of the quote I told her about. The one that’s motivated me throughout my entire journey as a runner:
To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift.
“No.” I set my jaw, ashamed of myself for even hinting at giving up. “I can’t stop.”
She reaches toward me and slowly threads our fingers together. I blink down at our hands, and how they just fit. Wealwaysfit. Touching in our sleep is one thing, but this… what is this? Pity? Guilt?
Or something else?
She squeezes, and my thumb brushes across the back of her hand in response.
“Look at me,” she says.
It’s a quiet but forceful command that raises the hair on my arms. The air becomes charged and alive between us as my gaze drags up slowly, following the path I wish my lips could. The bare skin of her shoulder, her long neck, the freckle on her cheekbone. It finally lands on her eyes, smudged and gorgeous—a soft jade in the light. My heart slams hard against my ribs as I stare into them.
Harder when she says, “You have so many gifts.”
Jesus, I can’t take it anymore.
Winding my hand around the nape of her neck, I draw her to me and finally do what I’ve been thinking about since I saw her on that deck at Kenji’s. Clara used to ignite when I kissed her, but this kiss—it’s soft, gentle. Almost painfully cautious. Did I misread this? Did I just ruin everything all over again?
Embarrassed, I try to back up. “Sorry—”
