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She ignores the soup, and cups my face, bringing my eyes to hers. My heart beats a drumline in my chest, and my lungs constrict.
“Thank you for this. I mean it, Bryce. Thank you.”
I swallow past the dry lump lodged in my throat, and nod. “You’re very welcome.”
My acceptance of her gratitude makes her smile, and then she’s tearing into the food, talking a mile a minute about everything from the food in New York to the diner she works at—all the while, moaning between every bite she takes. Watching her eat my food is like watching porn, knowing the food I created for her pleasure has that kind of effect on her.
“Man, your ex-girlfriends must have left the relationship twenty pounds heavier than when they met you.” She dabs at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “Your cooking is outstanding.”
“I didn’t cook much back then. Not unless it was with my grandfather.”
“What do you mean back then? As in, before your accident?”
I nod. “I had to eat, breathe, and sleep football. I didn’t have time for much else.”
She squints one eye against the sunlight. “What about after? I can’t imagine you not cooking for them at the inn.”
I toy with the edge of my napkin. “I haven’t had any girlfriends since I’ve been here.”
She covers up her surprise by turning to glance up at a bird flying past. “Why not?”
“It’s been hard to let anyone in after what Ariel did. At the time, I was paralyzed from the waist down, so it was tough on her. We didn’t know what my future would be like, and my football career was over. I needed a lot of help, and I wasn’t in the greatest mental state. Then she sold lies to the tabloids, and I think that was her way out without having to tell me that she didn’t want to be with a disabled person.” I crumble up my napkin and toss it onto the table cloth. “People looked at me as a burden. I think they still do. I don’t want anyone to have to deal with that kind of responsibility.”
“She broke up with you because you were paralyzed?”
“It wasn’t like that. She was young. It was a lot to ask.”
She sets down her plate. “You were the one who was injured, yet you just said it was tough on her.” A disgusted noise leaves the back of her throat. “You don’t just leave people when they need you the most. And you certainly don’t sell them out to the tabloids.”
Affection warms my chest. “Ariel wasn’t the one for me. She was the quintessential partner to have as a football player. She loved the game, understood how often it would take me away from her, and she handled the press with ease. Understandably so, as her father was one of the best quarterbacks of all-time. But without football, whatever was between us dissipated. I’m glad we parted ways. It was a long road to recovery for me, and I needed to go it alone.”
“Pfft. No one should have to go through anything like that alone.”
I arch a brow. “Is this about Ariel, or is there someone you’re bitter about?”
She leans back on her palms, stretching out her legs in front of her and crossing them at the ankles. “I guess I’m projecting a little.”
“Tell me about him.”
Tell me about the bastard who hurt you.
“Greg met me when my mom was in remission. Six months later, her cancer came back, and I got swept back up in a whirlwind. I can admit, I was consumed with taking care of her, and trying to find ways to help her feel better. But he wasn’t the most supportive person. He’d get mad, and say that I wasn’t giving him enough attention. And I wasn’t, so I can’t argue that. I just wonder if it’d been someone different, someone more understanding or caring, if things would’ve worked out differently. Or maybe it was too much to ask of anybody.”
“How did you two leave things when you broke up?”
She laughs. “Well, I walked into his apartment after visiting my mom’s grave on my birthday, and found him having sex with his co-worker on his kitchen table.”
I choke on my spit, and sit up ramrod straight. “Are you kidding me?”
“I kid you not.”
Anger balls my hands into fists. “What a piece of shit.”
She waves her hand like it’s not a big deal. “It’s fine. Did it hurt? Sure. I wish he would’ve been man enough to have broken up with me. But he didn’t deserve to be with someone who wasn’t devoting 100% of herself in the relationship. I couldn’t give him what he needed, and he couldn’t give me what I needed.”
“And what was it that you needed?”
“Someone to be there for me. Someone who wouldn’t let me down.” She sets her emerald eyes on me. “Someone who wouldn’t leave when things got hard.”
