She has the strap of her purse in a death grip and she’s chewing on her lower lip.
“Hey, sweetheart.” I walk up and wrap her in a hug.
“Are you okay?” Her voice is shaky, but she’s released the death grip on her purse and now has one on me. My ribs are sore—again—but I’m not about to complain about being in her arms.
I’m such an ass.She isn’t used to this stuff. Most of the time, hang ups look worse than they are. I should’ve immediately let her know I was okay.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry I didn’t text you, I’m not used to having someone to text.” I really am fine. I’ll be sore, but I’m not hurt.
“It’s okay, it just freaked me out a little bit. You’re really okay? It didn’t look okay.” She releases me and takes a step back, looking me over like she’ll see an injury.
“It knocked the wind out of me for sure and I might have a bruise on my leg, but I’m not hurt. I promise.” I look into her eyes so she knows it’s nothing to worry about. “I laughed when Trey texted me:you’re supposed to let go.”
She huffs out a laugh. “That’s horrible. If you can avoid wrecks like that, that would be great.” She smiles, but it’s strained. I can tell she’s still shaken.
“I couldn’t agree more. Let me grab my bag and we’ll go back to the truck.”
After I pack up, we grab food from hospitality, then head for the camper and both take showers. I watched the video back while Kacey showered and I’ll admit it didn’t look good, but it also could’ve been a lot worse.
Once we’re both done showering, she’s still quiet. She’s been quiet all night. I tried asking her about the book she’s reading while we ate earlier, but she was distracted, in her head, giving me short answers. I’m starting to worry she’s more affected by the danger of the sport than I initially thought.
We’re staying here tonight and have the next two days off. I’m sitting on the lower bunk searching for a movie to watch as Kacey stands at the counter brushing her hair. I can smell her shampoo—the scent fills the small space of the camper. I reach forward, grabbing her hips and gently pull her backward into the bed next to me.
She bends one leg up and turns so she’s facing me.
“Talk to me.”
“About what?” she asks, but I know she knows.
“You knowwhat. You’ve been off all night. I can tell you’re still freaked.”
She brings her other leg up onto the bed and crosses them beneath her. “Okay, yeah. I’m freaked. You could have been really hurt tonight. I know it’s a dangerous sport, but it was a lot harder to watch in person than I anticipated. I just—I . . . .” she trails off, her head down, hand nervously rubbing her forearm.
“Just what, Kace?”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispers.
My heart stops in my chest.
I didn’t hear correctly, did I?One bad dismount and she’s threatening to end things?
“I’m sorry—” she starts to say as the first tear rolls down her cheek.
“No.” I push off the bed. I have to stand. I need to pace, but this damn camper is too small. I settle for running my hands through my hair, looping them together on the back of my head. “It was one bad night, but I’m fine.We’refine. You’ll get used to the minor injuries.”
“You don’t understand.” Another tear rolls down her cheek and I want to go to her, but I can’t breathe.
“Then help me understand, Kace. Things have been great between us. I know you feel it too, so please help me understand where this is coming from.”
“I know and I know Megan messed with your head—”
I cut her off. “She doesn’t matter. It’s you, Kacey; you are it for me. You're the spark, the flame, the full-blown wildfire I never saw coming. You blazed into my life, lighting my soul on fire. I tried to fight it, I really did. I knew the season would be hard on us both, but we can do it. I know we can. So, please, help meunderstand.” Because I don’t give a shit about what Megan did, not anymore. But we can’t figure this out if Kacey doesn’t help me understand.
If I can’t fix this—if we can’t fix this—I don’t think I’ll ever recover.
I don’t say the words because I knew in my gut she isn’t ready to hear them, but I’m in love with her. Hell, I think I’ve been in love with her since that first night on her porch.
“Knox—” she chokes out, fighting back more tears. “I promise I’m not trying to mess with your head, it’smy headthat’s the issue. Seeing you get tossed around like that . . . it brings up memories . . . and I can’t watch that happen to you.” She stands in the small space, leaning against the counter and covers her face with both hands.
