Before I realize it, we’ve walked away from the high school building and are clear on the other side of campus near the elementary building that served as a convent a long time ago. I pause to sit on a stone bench under the covered walkway near the bird-watching garden. A neglected, moss-covered statue of Saint Francis holding a bowl of bird seed watches over the place.
Shermer finishes catching me up, and I make the mistake of broaching another topic.
“We need to talk about the Facebook thing,” I say before I lose my nerve.
She shifts uncomfortably on the stone bench. When I turn to look at her, I see she’s mortified and angry. But I know the fierce, confident woman is still inside there, somewhere.
“This was a mistake,” she says, her eyes blinking rapidly, like she’s looking for something to stare at that’s not me. “I should go.”
Maybe she’s right. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
She sighs. “Just one problem. Hunter was my ride and she’s gone. She couldn’t even wait five minutes.” I wish I knew what was going on with her. “Anyway ... God, I’m so stupid.”
“Hey,” I say. “None of that. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered about the Facebook thing. There’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about. But this thing between us is a non-starter.”
She’s blinking more rapidly and I realize she’s fighting angry tears. Non-starter? Good job using corporate speak when feelings are involved, I think to myself.
“Shermer,” I say.
Her breath is shallow. “Do you even know what it does to me when you bark my name in practice?”
The question hangs in the air. My better self reminds me that I’m in a position of authority. I can’t entertain these kinds of questions. I can’t — shouldn’t — encourage her attraction to me. But there’s another part of me that owes her some degree of kindness. I can’t deny her the truth. “Yes. I know what it does to you. Do you want me to stop?”
Shermer shuts her eyes and breathes, “No! God, no! Don’t you dare stop now.”
I swallow thickly. This whole meeting was a bad idea.
“You know what could happen…what cruel rumors people could spread about you,” I say, my voice wavering. “Let’s just get you home.”
Five minutes later, I’m alone with Shermer in my truck. This is an even bigger mistake than meeting with her after practice.
We spend the ride to her house in silence. She doesn’t even question how I already know where she lives. Once I’m parked in her driveway, it takes all the strength inside me to keep my hands on the wheel.
“Thanks for the ride,” she says in a near whisper.
“Sorry for embarrassing you. And sorry if it hurt that I blocked you. But I can’t ...” I can’t even finish the sentence without squeezing the shit out of my steering wheel and gritting my teeth so hard they might crack.
What the fuck am I doing? She can’t be my car.
“I get it,” she says. “I mean, why would you see me as a grown woman? To you I’m still that dorky preteen following you around at the city pool. I don’t know why this is so hard for me to wrap my brain around—..”
“Stop it,” I grit out. “I’ve told you before, stop running yourself down. It’s not like that. You’re not a kid. I don’t see you as a kid ... not at all.”
I shouldn’t have said so much. Shermer swivels in her seat to face me.
Her gaze locks onto mine. The windows are down and the late fall breeze blows a lock of hair into her face. I know I shouldn’t, but I raise my hand to touch it, to move it.
She leans in to me. God help me, she’s leaning in and so am I. My heart is hammering in my chest. I can smell her citrusy, fresh scent. The same scent I dab on the end of my whistle so I can smell her all day long. Fuck me, I’m hard as stone right now and I can’t do a damn thing about it.
Her wavy locks are the softest thing I think I’ve ever felt in my hand.
Shermer’s eyes flutter closed. She has no idea what she’s doing to me right now. What does she think will happen next? If I so much as touch her skin, I won’t be able to stop.
We’re so close I can feel her breath on my cheek. She’s visibly trembling.
Headlights sweep across the dashboard, startling us both. I fail to let go of her hair right away; instead I gently tuck it behind her ear as the automatic garage door rises in front of us.
The realization that someone has come home has Shermer snapping away from me, eyes wide and terrified. She’s out of the truck and inside the house before I can say another word.