Page 51 of The Lucky One
He nodded. “I know what you mean.”
“Really?” People always told me it was a phase, or that I should compete. But I had no time for competitions, not with my packed study schedule and volunteering, which I was already a day behind on. But I had some free time tomorrow. No need to panic yet.
“Yeah,” Paul said. “I felt the same way about football last year. That’s why I dropped out.”
“Then why did you rejoin the team?”
He let out a tired laugh. “Ah... After taking a break, I realized that being without it wasn’t good either.” His gaze darted to his knuckles. I gasped when I noticed the scarred texture of his skin, and instinctively reached out.
“So where do you want to go for dinner?” Paul said.
I pulled my hand back and brushed my hair behind my ears instead. He’d punched Jon for moaning Emily’s name. While I—
I sucked in a breath. I didn’t want to revisit those memories. That chapter of my life was finished.
“Olive Garden is close by,” I said. It was casual, but not too casual in case this was actually a date. My eyes found Paul’s knuckles again. Those scars... They couldn’t have come from the fight with Jon alone.
At Olive Garden, Paul kept up the gentlemanly moves, pulling out my chair for me and filling my glass with water first. When he asked me about my favorite item on the menu, I told him that the Caesar salad with chicken was insanely good.
“Really? You haven’t even looked yet.” He glanced at the closed menu in front of me.
“I always get the same thing. Why should I get something else when I know exactly what I want?”
He nodded in approval. “Well, I don’t.” He flipped through the menu, looking somewhat lost.
“I can order for you,” I suggested, taking a sip of water to occupy my hands.
“You think you know me well enough to know what I want to eat?” Paul placed the menu down and grinned at me, dimpling his cheeks. My heart rate increased a few beats per minute.
“I’ve known you for years, remember?” I reminded him—and myself too. It actually felt like I had met Paul just a few weeks ago. All of a sudden we were connecting on a deeper level than in six years of friendship.
“True.”
He reached into his jeans for his phone and smiled at the screen for a moment before typing out a message. I sank into my seat and took another sip of water. Maybe this wasn’t a date, then.
“Who is it?” I asked, not because I genuinely wanted to know, but to point out that I was still here.
“Oh...” Paul put his phone face down on the table. “Just Emily. She was freaking out about eating cheese tonight.”
“I see.” I shouldn’t have asked in the first place.
“Sorry about that,” he said, laughing nervously.
“It’s all right. I mean, she’ll never be my favorite person, but I won’t judge you for talking to her.”
Paul gaped at me. Wow, that sounded harsh. I took another sip from my glass but it was empty.
“I meant sorry for being on the phone,” he said. “You think I shouldn’t be talking to her anymore?”
I sighed and put down my glass. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Explain it to me then.” He frowned and propped his chin on his elbows.
I took a deep breath, feeling my palms go sweaty. “I didn’t tell you, but Jon talked to me a few days ago.” Paul didn’t flinch. “I was so angry I could barely look at him. I mean, after all the crap he pulled, I’m not interested in repairing our relationship and being ‘friends.’”
I paused to gauge his reaction but he didn’t say a word, only continued looking at me. “Emily lied to you, played with your feelings, started dating Jon of all people, and yet... you guys are best buds?”
His jaw twitched. I leaned over the table and put my hand on his arm. “I just can’t understand why you’re putting yourself through this.” I wasn’t trying to manipulate him. I was just genuinely worried about him. It was unhealthy, him and Emily.