Page 20 of Bad Run

She tilts her head to the side, as if she’s trying to dig her claws into my soul and read the contents. Her eyes bounce between mine, searching. “Why would that make you sad?”

“I wasn’t sad she called to congratulate me.”

Finally, my word well dries up. With anyone else, this would be the time I’d bolt. I don’t like to share my past or anything personal. But something keeps me rooted and connected to Gwen. The words are on the tip of my tongue.

“It’s okay; you don’t have to tell me.” She lays her palm on the back of my hand that’s resting on my thigh. The skin-to-skin contact lights me up like a damn firework stand caught on fire on the Fourth of July.

I sandwich her delicate hand between my large palms. “Are you sure you want to hear this? It’s kind of a long story.”

Gwen curves her fingers around mine and squeezes. “If you’re up for it, I’ve got all night.”

My blood rushes south, thinking about a hundred different things I could show her if we had all night.

Mind out of the gutter, buddy.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I think I can take it.”

She really needs to stop saying shit that makes my brain fizzle and my dick hard. I need to hurry and spit this out before the little witch sidetracks me again.

“My dad won’t talk to me because I accepted a full ride to play college baseball instead of going to Stony Point Military Academy, like he did. Like my grandfather and brother did.”

“But you wanted to forge your own path. Not follow in their footsteps,” she says, nodding along in understanding.

I’ve only just met her, and yet she already understands me better than my father.

“Yes. And no,” I croak, the rest of my reason getting stuck in my throat.

As if she can feel me pulling away, Gwen threads her fingers through mine, giving me the strength to tell someone the whole story. Aside from telling Cam, I haven’t spoken about this in years.

“When I was in high school, my older brother died in action while he was serving in the Army. He was twenty-six. I looked up to him in every way, and losing him was hard on me and my family. But after he was gone, I knew I couldn’t follow in his footsteps. I’m incredibly proud of my brother, of my family. But …”

“You wanted a different life,” she interjects.

I shake my head. As much as I would love for her reason to be the truth, that’s not it. “No. I’m not as brave as he was.”

Her mouth turns down in sadness, but it’s her words that cut me at the knees. “I think you’re incredibly brave for choosing yourself and following your dreams.”

No one has ever called me brave.

Especially not me. I feel like a coward. Like I let my entire family down. But hearing her call me brave fills me with hope, and the invisible band around my chest loosens, making it easier for me to breathe. “I don’t know about that. Most days, I feel like I let my family down. My dad doesn’t even talk to me anymore.”

“I’m sorry. I know how it feels when you have a father who doesn’t see you.”

I hate hearing that she’s experienced a similar feeling. Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, let alone the kind woman beside me. “I’m sorry to hear you have a tough dad.”

She scoffs. “Tough? If only. My dad sees me as a child. But what’s worse is he sees my brothers as grown men capable of working for the family business. I have more work experience for the role I want than the three of those bozos have combined, and still, I get nothing.”

Anger bubbles in my chest. What kind of fucked-up dad does that to their daughter? We need a subject change. This got heavy fast.

I squeeze her hand. “Thank you.”

“For?” Gwen nibbles her bottom lip as the skin between her eyebrows creases and her eyes dance with curiosity.

“For sharing and listening.”

“I’d listen to anything you have to say.” Her cheeks flush bright pink at her admission.