Page 84 of The Curveball
She laughs and covers her face with her hands again. “No comment.”
I roll back onto my back and stare at the ceiling, trying to be silent, but I’ve never been able to sit still too long. “What are we doing, Birdie?”
She doesn’t answer right away. “I’mthinking.”
“Got it.”
I try to close my eyes, but my feet start to rock back and forth on the cushion.
“You’re bouncing the couch.”
“Sorry.” I pull my feet down and plant them on the ground. I lace my fingers over my chest and try to stay quiet, but in the end, I give up. “What are we thinking about?”
Wren doesn’t answer.
I lift my head and look her way. She’s peeking out from her fingers, licorice between her teeth, studying me. “It’s got to be something heavy if you’ve stopped gnawing on your cud, baby.”
The back of her hand smacks my chest, but at least she’s laughing.
I slip my fingers through hers. “What’s up? Lay it on me. Let me absolve you of your worries.”
“Absolve. Good word for the day.”
“I thought so.”
Wren takes another bite of her candy. “My dad called today.”
I curse under my breath. He wasn’t terrible to me, but he was arrogant. He made Wren feel like she had to walk on broken glass, and I don’t like it.
“Ah.” I draw her knuckles to my lips. “Was this conversation good, bad, or confusing?”
“All of the above.”
“Want to tell me about it? I feel like we don’t talk much about the black sheep of the family.”
She laughs. “You talk likeweare family.”
“We will be.”
Wren rolls her head to the side, meeting my gaze. “Was that a proposal? Because it was the lamest.”
I huff. “Fine. I’ll work on it, high maintenance.”
I’d give my throwing hand if it meant Wren Fox kept smiling like this. She snakes her arms through mine, and curls into my body. Once her leg is strategically slung over my thighs, she relaxes.
“Okay. You can’t implode. Promise?”
“No. I do not promise, because this is getting intense, and I’m so invested right now. What is this bomb you’re going to drop on me?”
She kisses my shoulder, I think it’s to buy her some time, but when she doesn’t speak, I rest a hand on her face. “Hey.”
Her gaze rolls up to meet mine. “Hi.”
“What’s holding you back? I’m good with secrets, Birdie. This, whatever it is, stays with us if you want.”
“It’sthething, Griff,” she whispers. “It’s why I foughtyoufor so long. It’s why I . . . avoid connection. There was trust broken a long time ago, and I only feel like I’ve finally got it back. You did that. You’ve helped heal a lot of what was broken.” She pauses again. “But I need to tell you. Call it a gut feeling, but I want you to know this piece of me. Doesn’t mean I’m not afraid to.”
“Wren.” I kiss her forehead and use my knuckle to tip her chin up. “You don’t need to be afraid to tell me anything. That’s the last thing I want. I’m in this. Deep in this. I want to know all the things that make you tick. Good or bad.”