Page 83 of Better Than Revenge

I squatted down next to him. “I guess I’m not the only one afraid to put myself out there.”

He sighed and shifted so he sat all the way on the ground. I joined him.

“I’m not afraid, Finley. The doctor said…” He trailed off.

“The doctor told you not to?”

“No, I’ve been cleared.”

“Then what?”

“I just need to…”

“Try?” I said. “See that it’s going to be fine? Come on.”

“No, I—”

“Please,” I said.

“Ihavebeen kicking,” he bit out. “Every day for a while.”

I blinked several times in surprise. “You have?”

He nodded.

“And?”

“And it’s not good. I’m weak. Unsteady.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

He ran his hands down his face. “It’s fine. Maybe you need to learn when to keep trying and I need to learn when to give up.”

I pulled him into a hug. His breaths were short, irregular, like he was on the verge of panic. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Maybe you need to take some pressure off. Learn how to kick for the fun of it again. Without your whole future sitting on your shoulders.” I knew how heavy that weight was.

“Maybe. I’m just…” He held me against him and drew in some air until his breathing was steady and even.

“Yoga?” I asked, resting my head on his shoulder.

He gave a quiet laugh. “You, actually.”

“Your charming lines don’t work on me,” I said even though I was now smiling.

He laughed and pulled us sideways onto the grass. I rolled onto my back, and we both stared up at the sky, our legs and hands interlocked. Clouds floated lazily across the blue backdrop.

Eventually, he propped himself up on his elbow, staring down at me. “Have you ever thought about being a sideline reporter? You’d actually be really good at it. You get this glimmer in your eye during your fake interviews.”

I shook my head. I actually had thought of it but always quickly dismissed it. “I’m not good with live stuff. I need the security of being able to edit out my mistakes.”

“I think your unscripted commentary is some of the best when you’re interviewing your grandma.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But you want to be perfect?”

I looked toward the uprights. “I’m trying to be less hard on myself.”

“I get it. I obviously have insecurities too.”