I won’t lie. I want him to stay. I want him to tell me that there isn’t a girl waiting for him at some bar. The thought of that makes me truly sick. But, again, I don’t get to have what I want.
He’s your dad’s football player.
Your dad is his football coach.
You have to let this go.
I repeat these phrases like a mantra in my brain, as if memorizing them will help me to behave.
“I can stay,” he answers me, further complicating this situation. “I don’t have any exciting plans and I like helping you.”
I blush. “Okay, great. I don’t really want to be alone. And… I like you helping me, too.”
Blaze is limited in his tree assembly because of his injury, but he can at least hold the ladder.
I, for one, am not a huge fan of ladders, but I will do what I have to do.
I grab one of the limbs and start climbing the rungs.
“Not going to lie,” I tell him. “I am pretty afraid of heights.”
“It’s okay,” he tells me. “I have got the ladder steady. And–not that this is going to happen–I will catch you if you fall.”
My stomach sinks.
I didn’t even think about falling.
But now, that's all I can think about.
I climb up to the fourth step which scares the life out of me.
I balance while I try to click the tree limb into place.
I hold my breath until I hear itclickand sigh in relief. I don’t look down when I tell him, “One down, five to go.”
I slowly descend the steps. When my foot hits the second rung, it slides off and I slip.
“Oh God,”I squeal.
But I’m caught instantly by Blaze.
I wasn’t even slipping that far. Safe in Blaze’s arms, I can see that I was barely off the ground and my fear of heights spooked me more than the fall itself. I’m a little embarrassed by my overreaction, but in any case, I’m grateful to be held.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I tell him, still cradled in his arms.
“Oh yeah?” he asks, not putting me down. “What’s that?”
“You’re thinking I am a dramatic theater girl. But I swear, it felt like I was falling down ten stories, not two steps,” I say, defending my case. “Okay… maybe I am a little dramatic.”
“That’s not what I was thinking,” he tells me, his eyes fixed on mine. “I was thinking that you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and I wouldn’t want to spend my Friday night anywhere else.”
A knot forms in my throat.
I shouldn’t kiss him.
Not just because of all the reasons I mentioned, but also because I shouldn’t trade my mouth for a simple compliment.
But I have wanted to kiss him for days.