Page 13 of Love Me Boldly
“So how did you leave it then?”
“Are you going to block me after this?” he asked, the cold darkening his cheeks but not the shine of his dark eyes.
I opened my mouth to say yes. He was a risk I wasn’t sure I could afford despite how easily his flattery came. “Not tonight” came out instead.
His grin was as large as the mountain range as I climbed into my Jimmy and shut the door.
“He said he’d call me,” I told Tracey.
“Given the last few weeks, has he called yet?”
Chuckling, I checked my phone and found it blank of all notifications. “Nope.”
“He will.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because he likes you, which means he has good taste.”
I rolled my eyes. She flung a pillow into my face. For a brief moment, I was assaulted with the scent of stale smoke and beer before it evaporated into the air with dust. “Ugh. Gross. And yeah, he obviously likes me. It’s impossible not to.”
Which wasn’t true. Lots of people despised me, but they hated me because of who my parents were. On a good day, I had a pretty decent level of self-confidence, but it was nowhere close to Graham’s. It didn’t mean I thought he and I would ever work, and unlike Tracey, I wasn’t the stray-collecting type. I’d been so busy proving myself over the last few years I wasn’t sure I was any kind of type, but if I was, I wouldn’t have imagined choosing the smirking, flirtatious boy.
And I still couldn’t figure out if he was playing me or genuine.I would never betray that trust…
He’d seemed genuine then…
“I hate that I’m so worked up about this.”
“Maybe that’s because you like him, too.” Tracey suggested it in a voice that was far too sweet, almost like she was afraid I’d throw the pillow back at her but load it with bricks first.
I couldn’t argue with that. Maybe I was starting to like him, but liking Graham wasn’t my only problem.
“My dad called at dinner,” I admitted to her. “I didn’t answer.”
“Has he called back?”
“No, but I haven’t heard from him in a few weeks, so he’ll keep calling whenever he can get to the phones.”
Her face scrunched up. “I’m sorry. Did Graham know?”
“No. But he definitely thought it was weird.”
“You know.” Tracey sat up, kicked her feet off the couch to the worn floor, and leaned toward me. “If he’s as nice as he seems, I doubt he’ll care.”
“That my mom took off and my dad’s in prison? Tell me who in the world wouldn’t judge someone after hearing that?”
“I’m still your friend.”
“That’s because you have no common sense.”
She laughed and couldn’t deny it. We both knew it was true.
“It’s getting late. I should head back.”
“Drive safe.”
I walked her to the door, the whole six steps it took to get there, and waited while she bundled up in her coat and scarf and then stood in the cold doorway until her car backed completely out of our snow-covered, dirty driveway and out onto the main road.
