Free Summer's Road by Kelly Moran Page B

Not that I lay the blame on her. I’d never let on I’d harbored feelings.
    Glancing at the ceiling, she rubbed her arm, a tiny wrinkle between her brows.
    My gut twisted. “What’s on your mind?”
    She shrugged her shoulder against the mattress, but the casual gesture couldn’t hide the unrest etched on her face.
    I sat next to her, the bed dipping with my weight, and pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Tell me.”
    “I guess I’m just nervous about Matt. I mean, who says ‘I love you, but we need to talk?’” She curled on her side and stared at me through fathomless, almost innocent eyes.
    I nodded, not sure what to say. It wasn’t as if the truth was an option.
    Propping herself on one elbow, she pursed her lips. “Peter from the hobby store asked me out again. You know what he said when I turned him down?”
    I shrugged, but she wasn’t paying attention.
    “He asked if the reason I wouldn’t go out with him was because you were in love with me.”
    Not that I’d been moving, but I froze. Everything froze. Time. Earth’s rotation.
    “Can you believe that crap?” she said. “Imagine that. My best friend and the biggest playboy in Wylie falling in love with me. Absurd.”
    I stared at her for several long beats, the edges of my vision graying. She may have claimed it was crap, but she was looking at me as if she was asking for validation. To confirm...what, exactly?
    Well, Summer. Peter was right. Except, I’ve been a coward for the past ten years not telling you because … Why? Christ. For the first time in a decade, I couldn’t remember. All the reasons seemed stupid now.
    “Yeah,” I said instead. I opened my mouth to say more—what, I wasn’t sure—but my expression must’ve been unguarded too long.
    She jumped off the bed, eyes wide, looking as if I’d filleted her alive. Was the possibility of me loving her that much of a betrayal? “Anyway.” She avoided my gaze and opted to study the floor.
    Ah, yes. It was coming back to me now. That’s why I never spilled my guts and handed her my heart in a box. Well, one of many reasons. Because if it messed with her idea of content, then she’d shatter. I hadn’t given her any indication Peter was right, but she was starting to freak anyway. For a woman whose life had been a constant flutter of upheaval, she didn’t adjust to change very well. And, if I was being brutally honest, I just didn’t think she felt that tug of longing, of lust, like I did. Her reaction now was proving me right.
    Even I had my pride. Most of the time. Buried way deep under a plethora of unresolved tension.
    “Movie?” She grabbed the box off my dresser she’d left the other night and held up a DVD case. She inserted the disc into the player, her hands shaking.
    Breathe . I leaned against the headboard and crossed my fingers behind my head, acting for all the world like my heart was beating a steady rhythm. “Does the movie have half-naked women or inanimate objects blowing up?”
    She gave me a sullen look, plopping next to me on the bed again as the credits rolled on a Ginger Rodgers and Fred Astaire flick.
    Funny how she romanticized everything, but ran from romance. If my inability to answer her question ten seconds ago had her denial gene kicked into battle stance, what would she do when Matt opened up? He was coming to see her tomorrow, assumingly to lay down a plan for a future, so she’d have to face reality.
    So would I.
    Judging by her heavy lids and giant yawn, she’d be asleep before the opening scene was through. My dark blue blanket was wrapped around her like a shield. It contrasted with her pale skin, making her features seem child-like. Until I took in her caramel hair spilled over the pillow and her pouty lips.
    After she was asleep, I brushed a strand of her hair away from her face, letting my knuckle linger on her soft cheek. I covered her with another blanket, knowing she’d get cold and steal mine. If she turned the air conditioner on