Page 54 of Legs

I was intimately familiar with Jimmy’s stubbornness, and I could only imagine his father. Even his mother’s voice was a solid thing, her businesslike tone demanding my attention. But to not speak with her? After hearing his dad was unwell? It seemed preposterous.

The man in question walked from the trees, taking long strides, focus on his feet, like he was deep in thought. I hesitated. I’d have loved nothing more than to tell him I was all his, not mar our perfect day with stress, but this was important. This was family.

When he glanced my way, he frowned. “You okay?” His attention settled on the phone burning up my hand.

Sweat gathered along my spine. “I didn’t mean to answer it. Our phones were next to each other, and…I thought it was mine.”

He stopped dead, arms limp at his sides. “Who is it?”

I held the phone toward him. “Your mother.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. He shifted on his feet. “I have nothing to say to her.”

I stood and stepped closer, covering the mouthpiece with my thumb. Alena didn’t need to hear this. “I don’t know what happened, but she wants to talk and fix things.” I touched his forearm. “She’s reaching out. She’s worried about your father’s health.”

He didn’t flinch. His body nearly turned to stone. “Not interested. You can hang up.”

Excuse me? I reviewed my words, wondering if they hadn’t come out as planned. But my brain was functioning. He’d heard me just fine. “This is your family, Jimmy. How could you not want to speak with her and make sure your father’s okay?”

Instead of replying, he wrenched the phone from my hand, hit End, and tossed it on the ground.

My pulse thundered, blood rushing in my ears. “What is wrong with you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me, Rachel. It’s them who have the problem.”

Rachel. He called me Rachel. Not Sunshine or Ray. It was detached, cold. This was the Jimmy who’d spent an hour flirting with me only to tear off and leave me in his dust. Here I was, about to pour my heart out to him, tell him I was ready for us to move forward, and he was calling me Rachel.

I poked at his chest. “You’re the one with the problem. Your father might be sick, and your mother called to bridge the gap between you. I don’t know the details of what tore your family apart, but this is your chance to make it right. If you ignore them, you’ll regret it.”

He shook his head. “This isn’t like what happened with you and your dad.” His fist swallowed my finger, ceasing my stabbing. “My family is nothing but poison.”

His blue eyes had never been so frosty, the silver at the edges sharpening into icicles. With a flare of his nostrils, he dropped my hand and turned away, jamming the rest of our stuff into his backpack. My throat burned. Gone was the man who’d told me I made him better. Disappeared was the lover who’d loosened my inhibitions. This cold-hearted imposter turned a blind eye to his pleading mother, and I couldn’t process the change.

When he got the bike loaded up, he planted his hands on the leather seat and slumped forward. “I’m sorry,” he said, defeat in his voice.

His apology eased the sting behind my eyes, but we so weren’t done here. “You hung up on your mother, Jimmy. You’re not some angsty sixteen-year-old. She needs your apology, not me.”

He spun around. “You don’t understand. My father said things to me a son should never hear, and she let it all happen. They ruined my life and made some brutal choices. Let’s just…” He scrubbed a hand down his face, shook it off, then approached me. My arms were crossed, my spine straight. He dipped his head to my level. “Can we sit and talk about this? I’ll tell you what happened. The whole sordid mess.”

Tenderness laced his tone, and I softened, but this was bigger than Jimmy and me and our fledgling relationship. “Will you call your mother back? After we talk?”

He flattened his lips and jammed his hands into his front pockets. “No. I’m done with them. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have family.”

My abdomen cramped, stealing my breath. He had a mother reaching out and a sick father, but he didn’t have family? So many things about Jimmy didn’t fit into my world, most of them superficial. Still, I’d decided to overcome my reservations, because he was worth it. This wasn’t superficial, though. This was the meatier stuff, the thing that made a man tick, and our clocks were set to different time zones.

How could I love someone who’d rather nurse his anger than make amends?

My head warred with my heart, a dizzying battle that had me shaking. I dug my toes into my sandals. “I’d like to go back, if that’s okay. We can talk tomorrow.” I needed space. Time to process and make sure my feelings were more than infatuation. That he was the man I believed him to be. I probably needed a glass of wine, too.

Silence built between us, an extended pause that worsened my turmoil. He huffed out a sad laugh. “You know what? There’s no need to talk to this out. This is all an excuse for you to continue keeping me at a distance. We’re just casual, like you wanted. I wouldn’t want to mess up your tidy life, anyway.”

His reproach hit hard, knocking the wind from my chest. He had no clue what I’d nearly confessed. That I was going to jump in with both feet, stop fighting our connection. Finally open up. Or…was I? I’d given him such a hard time recently. Playfully maybe, but he’d put himself on the line, and my rebukes must have hurt. Still, if he was the guy for me, how could everything be undone by a phone call?

Tears stung my eyes, a headache setting in, along with a lump in my throat. If I hadn’t answered that phone, we’d be tucked together on his bike, planning our week. Our sleepovers.

Now we couldn’t look at each other.

He plunged his hand through his hair, then strode to his bike. Like he was finished with me. I bit my cheek, barely containing my tears. My mind kept flitting between his anger, his mother’s plea, his sick father—my father, forever taken from me—to our perfect day, and the way my body had responded to his, landing on my selfish choices the past weeks.