Love to Love Her YAC (40 page)

I laugh, even though I can feel my face
turning red.

“Anyway,” Corinne continues. “That was until
we hooked up
again
at the KDR Welcome Back party in August.
That’s when I
knew
he wasn’t gay…if you catch my drift.”

I giggle uncontrollably as I marvel at
Corinne’s ability to keep this all under wraps for so long—she
normally isn’t much for keeping secrets, especially her own. Then a
thought occurs to me. “But I thought you liked
Vince.
”

Corinne sighs. “I did like Vince. In the
beginning it may have been because he was a good distraction
from…everything else. But he really did grow on me. It just wasn’t
meant to be.”

“And you and Spencer are?” I say, not in
disbelief but in confirmation.

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“I won’t lie to you, if you’d asked me that a
week ago I would’ve called you crazy… But now that I’ve seen the
two of you together, I’d say you’re right—it’s a natural fit.” I
smile at her, and she grins sheepishly back.

We scrape our plates in silence for a moment,
then Corinne looks up again. “Have you talked to Andy since you’ve
been home?”

I shake my head. “But I, uh… I did get a
letter
yesterday.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “A
letter
?”

I nod before leaning over to dig the folded
up piece of paper out of my back pocket. I toss it on the table,
and Corinne snatches for it. She takes the warped letter out of the
envelope, turns it over and scans to the bottom of it. Her eyes
bulge. “Blake wrote it?” she exclaims.

I can only nod. Quickly she flips it back
over and begins reading. I watch as her eyes flick back and forth
across the paper. When she nears the end, I could swear I see them
brimming with tears the same way mine had the first time I read
it.

When she glances back up at me, she looks
spellbound. “Wow,” she utters. I nod, the corner of my mouth
twitching up into a half smile.

“What do you think he wants to tell you?” she
asks quietly.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re going to go find out, aren’t
you?”

“Sometime…”

“Oh my God, I would have already been on my
way the second I finished reading this!” she says. “What’s holding
you back?”

I sniff as I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t
know… It doesn’t seem very wise just to rush back into things,
given the way they ended.”

Corinne leans across the table, a storm
brewing in her blue eyes. “Don’t be a dumbass, Rhiannon.” She has a
way with words, you see. “I have never read, nor heard, nor seen a
more heartfelt apology. I think he deserves your forgiveness… Don’t
you?”

Slowly a smile spreads over my face as I
admit to myself the absolute truth of her words. “It
was
sort of a nice apology, wasn’t it?”

She swats at my forearm with the letter
before handing it back to me. “All I can say is, you are one lucky
lady. Do us all a favor and don’t let this one get away.”

I jump a little in my chair when my phone
starts ringing. “It’s Andy,” I say after checking the display.

Corinne nods. Without a word she stands and
gathers our plates, then goes back inside the house, sliding the
door shut behind her. I clear my throat before pressing Accept.

“Hello?”

“Hey, babe. Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Happy Thanksgiving,” I reply.

“I’ve missed you,” he says. “When are you
driving back to school?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to stay
focused on the task at hand. “Um, not sure,” I finally manage to
get out. “I—“

“Do you want to have dinner on Sunday? I can
cook.”

Okay, Rhiannon, now or never—man
up
.

I take a deep breath, then blurt, “Listen,
Andy,” before I can chicken out. “I… I can’t date you anymore.” My
rambling mind wants to elaborate, but I bite my tongue, waiting for
him to ask a question first. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over
the course of the past few months, it’s not to volunteer too much
information without being asked.

There’s a pregnant pause before he speaks.
“Why not?” His voice is flat, resigned even, almost as if he had
been expecting this.

A day ago I would’ve fed him some line about
how I didn’t think I should be with
anyone
right now, and I
would’ve meant it. The universe works in mysterious ways,
though—today I would no longer be telling the truth if I spoke
those selfsame words.

“I’ve just been working through some things,”
I say vaguely, stalling for time to think of some genius
explanation that doesn’t involve telling him I’ve essentially had a
better offer. “And I don’t know if I should date…you—right now.” I
cringe at the way that sounded but can’t think of a good way to fix
it.

He sighs. “It’s okay, Rhiannon. I get it. I’m
sorry to hear it, but I get it.”

“I’m so sorry, Andy. I really did enjoy
spending time with you.”

“Yeah, it was fun,” he agrees. “You’re a
great girl. You’re going to make some lucky guy very happy.”

I smile. Andy was always a nice guy. He was
just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Thanks, and ditto. Enjoy the rest of your
break, okay?”

“You, too—be safe. See ya around.”

We hang up, and I stare out the windows at
the mountains towards the distant spot Blake and I rode to weeks
ago on horseback. Corinne was right—no more being a dumbass for
this girl.

Blake – 11:00 AM

I
left Sacramento
yesterday afternoon after promising my mom I’d see her in a month
for Christmas. She had hugged me for the first time in ages right
before I got in my truck to head east.

With only three weeks left in the semester
there’s plenty to do—papers to write, books to read, projects to
complete. Adam hasn’t come back yet, so I have the apartment to
myself. I’d like to say the peace and quiet has translated into a
really productive morning, but the truth is I’ve been distracted.
All week I wondered whether Rhiannon got my letter, whether she
even read it, what she thought of it. I know eventually the
knowledge of what I lost won’t hurt this much, and maybe a day will
come when I don’t think about her all the time.

After staring out the window for half an hour
I decide to go for a run to clear my head and regroup. I change
into a pair of shorts and a long-sleeved shirt, fill a bottle with
water and lock up behind me.

Rhiannon – 11:30 AM

T
he sun had just
crested over the horizon when I left Winnemucca this morning. I
shook Tawny awake to tell her goodbye and promise I’d call her
tomorrow. Mom got up to make me a cup of coffee for the road, and
Dad climbed out of bed long enough to see me off. The drive back
was cathartic in its own right, allowing me the personal time
necessary to sift through the skeletons in my closet and determine
next steps.

I’m stepping out of the shower when my phone
signals a text message from Ruthie.

OMG I TOLD YOU! Wtf, why wouldn’t she just TELL
us?

A laugh escapes me. Of course she’s referring
to Corinne and Spencer.

I think it’s sort of sweet

In a raunchy, Corinne and Spencer kind of way. Call
me later after you get settled.

I will

I blow dry my hair just enough so it isn’t
dripping and rub floral-scented lotion on my freshly shaven legs.
Next I put on my best pair of jeans with a pink and white boat-neck
sweater and tennis shoes. I spend extra time curling my eyelashes
and dabbing on pale pink blush as my hair dries, then spritz on
some perfume for good measure.

I turn slowly in front of the full length
mirror in my bedroom. Satisfied that I look as good as I’m going
to, I grab a scarf and jacket and head out the door.

I’ve only been to Blake’s apartment one other
time, so it’s nothing short of a miracle that I’m able to locate it
again on my own. My confidence, which I’ve worked fastidiously to
cultivate ever since my conversation with Corinne, falters as I
pull into a parking space and check my face in the visor mirror.
I’m not even sure if he’ll be home, or if he’s busy. And of course,
there was that one part in the letter—the part that said, “
I’m
not asking you to give me another chance
.” What if I’m being
completely presumptuous showing up like this?

But no, he asked me to come. He said he had
something to tell me—and I’m here to find out what it is.

I press the button on my key fob to lock my
car doors as I walk up to the building’s front door. It’s locked of
course. I scan through the list of apartment numbers and names
posted on a placard next to the door until I find “Rawlings/Smyth”
scribbled next to unit twelve. I push the button on the intercom—it
buzzes, but no answer. I try it once more, but no such luck.

I turn around to face the sidewalk, wondering
if I should just go or perhaps leave a note. Then I notice Blake’s
truck parked a few spots down from the door—that means he’s back in
town at least. I probably should have called or texted first, but
the element of surprise had somehow seemed of vital importance.

I check the time on my phone—twelve-fifteen.
Slowly I stroll to the end of the sidewalk, thinking of what to do
next.
Just wait
, says a voice somewhere deep inside me.

Isn’t that sort of creepy though?

Fine, be a puss
.

Ugh, fine. I’ll wait. I’ll give it thirty
minutes, then if he doesn’t come back I’ll leave and try again
later. I sit down on the low concrete wall that separates the
narrow strip of grass around the building from the sidewalk. I draw
my knees up to my chest, and I wait.

Blake – 12: 30 PM

I
ran all the way
around Riverview Park, pushing aside all extraneous thoughts as I
concentrated on placing one foot before the other. My lungs burn
from the cool air as I walk back west along Fifth Street, mopping
at my face with the hem of my shirt. Clouds hang low in the
overcast sky, but rain isn’t in the forecast for today.

I round the corner onto Franklin Court and
stop short when I see someone sitting outside my apartment
building.
Is that—
?
No
—surely not. Surely I’m
imagining things—I pushed myself too hard, and now I’m
hallucinating.

I take a few steps closer. I’m still a few
buildings down, and she hasn’t spotted me yet. Her legs are
stretched out straight in front of her, crossed at the ankles. Her
hands are buried in her jacket pockets, and she’s staring off to
the west, seemingly lost in thought.

My heart races as I suck in a deep breath.
This is it
. I plunge ahead, forcing myself to keep walking
forward. I’m almost up to the entrance where the sidewalk turns to
lead up to the front door when she finally sees me. She stares,
wide-eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.
God, she’s so
pretty though
. I smile as I take steps to cover the remaining
distance between us.

Rhiannon – 12:38 PM

I
can’t seem to get
enough air. I am literally about to start hyperventilating.
Oh
God oh God oh God
. He’s here. He’s coming towards me. Why the
hell did I wear this stupid constricting scarf?

He swaggers over and stops directly in front
of me. I use my hand to block the sunlight streaming from behind
him as I look up into his handsome face. “You came,” he says, his
voice a gravelly whisper.

I stand up, feeling a bit wobbly, and regard
him tentatively. “I got your letter.” Without giving it any
forethought, I produce the tearstained letter from my jacket pocket
as proof.
Shit, he’s going to think I’m a weirdo for carrying it
around with me
. Embarrassed, I begin to stuff it back in my
pocket, but he reaches out to reassuringly touch my shoulder.

I glance up at him in surprise—the
embarrassment falls away when I see the hopeful smile on his face.
I’ve missed that smile
.

“Will you come up with me?” he asks,
inclining his head toward the door.

I twitch my lips to the side, giving it some
thought. “Yes,” I reply softly. He looks at me another moment, then
takes a few steps in that direction. Abruptly he turns as if to be
sure I’m still behind him and not running back down the street—his
sudden movement catches me off-guard and I stumble a little like
the klutz I typically am. Blake’s mouth quirks in a small grin
before he swivels back around and proceeds to the door. He uses his
key in the front door, then leads me past the lobby and down a long
hallway to number twelve. I wait anxiously while he unlocks this
door as well. He pushes it open and stands back, allowing me to
pass.

I breathe everything in—that delicious smell
that is uniquely Blake. It gives me a head rush and makes me feel a
little unsteady. I wait for him in the entryway as he shuts the
door behind us. He looks back at me, blinking like he can’t believe
I’m really here, standing in his apartment.

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asks.

“Water?”

He walks past me into the kitchen. I watch as
he drops ice cubes into a glass and fills it with tap water from
the sink. When he hands it to me I gulp it down appreciatively
while looking at him over the rim of the glass. He stares back
until I’m finished and set the glass back down between us on the
counter. Finally he clears his throat.

“Make yourself at home, okay? I’m gonna go
change. Just…wait here.” He darts away before I have a chance to
argue, which I wouldn’t have done anyway since I currently seem to
have lost the power of speech.

Blake – 12:43 PM