“Are you all lifeguards?”
“Yeah. Every summer since we were sixteen.” Discomfort crept up the back of his neck. “Although I missed a couple of summers a while back.” When Olive looked at him, obviously waiting for an explanation, he changed the direction of the conversation, needing to live in this world a little longer. A world where she didn’t know the extent of his depravity. “Jamie teaches during the school year. Economics. He’s smart like you.”
Olive opened her mouth and closed it again. “Um, thank you.” She paused. “Don’t tell him, but I hate economics. It’s too cut and dried. Not enough room for theories or gray areas.”
“I’m telling him.”
“Don’t.” She poked Rory in the side with her free hand and the move was so cute, he almost stopped walking to kiss her. Just wanted to yank her up on her toes and work her innocent body into another frenzy, like he’d done in the shower. But he kept walking, jaw clenched. As if sensing Rory trying to create distance between them, she launched into a ramble. “I mean, I guess there is something to be said for gray areas. Right? That’s where light and dark come together. If they always stayed separate, life would be pretty boring.”
Was she talking about them? Trying to convince him he had a right to walk beside her on the street? To be with her? He wouldn’t allow himself to be convinced. Rory looked ahead and realized they were entering the more expensive area where the rents ticked up by a couple grand. “How much farther?” he asked without making eye contact.
“A couple of blocks.”
Her subdued tone filled him with concern. “You feeling okay? Cold again?”
“I’m fine.” She regarded him thoughtfully. “I was just thinking about what you said, back in the locker room. When you were talking to your brother.”
Rory exhaled hard, trying and failing not to think of Andrew’s disappointed expression. Shouldn’t he be used to it by now? “Which part?”
Olive seemed hesitant, watching him through her lashes. “That you don’t get choices. You get marching orders. What did you mean?”
“That I don’t get trusted with a lot of responsibility. Andrew tells us where to go. When to be there.” He tried to sound less frustrated but couldn’t pull it off. “Jamie has other shit going on, though. Teaching, his books. I just get a schedule and a lot of skepticism that I can stick to it.”
“Do you earn that skepticism?”
“Yeah. I do.” He raked a hand through his hair. “What’s the point of being efficient if I’ll never go any higher than where I’m at, you know? This is it. I’m a name on a schedule.”
She seemed genuinely confused. “Is that all you want to be?”
“No.” Rory heard the word come out of his mouth before his brain registered it. Did he want more than lifeguarding and pouring drinks? Was an ex-con wanting more out of the daily grind just wishful thinking? When he started to consider the answer might be no…or at the very least a gray area, hope trickled in—and it alarmed him. He’d been so devoid of hope or light at the end of the tunnel, he didn’t know how to handle it. What if he tried and found out for certain that there had never been a point? For damn sure, nothing he did would be good enough to deserve the girl walking beside him with such trust.
Olive blinked up at Rory and he realized he was staring. “Andrew also said…he said you called him from a holding cell once?”
His stomach took a dive toward the sidewalk. Had part of him wished she’d missed that part of Andrew and Jiya’s conversation? Why? It would be counterproductive when his goal was to bring this girl to her expensive apartment building and split. To leave her alone for good.
That’s why he had her hand locked in a death grip, right?
Rory pulled Olive to a stop on the sidewalk and forced himself to untangle their fingers, pushing them through his hair instead. “I should have been more upfront with you, Olive, okay?” He tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. “When I thought we’d never make it past those milkshakes, I thought I’d get away with not telling you. So you wouldn’t look back and think of me as…that ex-con you almost accidentally dated. I didn’t want that. But here we are. And I still have your phone number even though I damn well shouldn’t. So you need to know, sunbeam, that I’m not lying when I say I’m not a good guy. I’m not good for you.”
The breeze blew the blonde hair around her face. “So you were…”
“The night I called Andrew was a separate occasion. But yeah, Olive. I’ve done time in prison.” Just do it. Cut this off before you fall any deeper for this girl. She would wise up someday down the road, when it was too late, and he’d have to sever an arm to let her go. He’d be her villain. “I put a guy in a coma. With my fists. That’s the kind of man who you just defended back there as heroic. That was real sweet and all, baby, but it’s not true.”