Page 169 of Worth the Trip

“You were nine.”

“Exactly. Vulnerable population.”

Miss Roslyn waved me away.

Nolani found me near poetry carrying a novel against her chest.

“I chose.”

“You look proud.”

“I am.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“Deeply.”

She handed it to me.

The description followed a former athlete who had spent years mistaking usefulness for love, convinced his value existed mostly in what he could carry for everybody else.

I looked at her.

She looked innocent.

Poorly.

“You profiling me through fiction?”

“I’m selecting literature based on available evidence.”

“This man sounds tired.”

“He also sounds handsome.”

“That ain’t in the description.”

“I read between the lines.”

I turned the book over again. “You picked this because he learns to receive.”

“I picked it because he learns being loved doesn’t diminish what he’s capable of carrying.” That shut me up for a second. Nolani touched the center of my chest. “And because strength shouldn’t always have to prove itself through weight.”

I covered her hand with mine. “You trying to make me emotional beside poetry?”

“Would that damage your reputation?”

“Significantly.”

“I’ll protect you.”

“How?”

She kissed my cheek. “I’ll tell everybody the vocabulary overwhelmed you.”

I pulled her closer by the waist.

“Smart mouth.”