The Fake Out (Vancouver Storm, #2)(56)

“I wish I could go back in time and be her friend as a teenager. I’d make her into such a bad bitch.”

His chin rests on the top of my head. “I know you would.”

I’d tell her she was enough, if I knew her back then. And I’d make her believe it.

“That’s why you say all that stuff during yoga?” Rory’s breath tickles my ear. “That’s why you want to create a space for everyone?”

I nod against his chest, sniffling. “She likes yoga but says she’s not skinny or young enough. She says no one wants to see her in yoga clothes.” My voice breaks on another sob as pain racks my chest.

I just want my mom to love herself as much as I love her.

“I look just like her,” I whisper, even though I shouldn’t. Thoughts like that don’t belong in whatever Rory and I are doing.

Outwardly, I’m so confident. Seeing my mom hate her body only fortified my hard shell, but the thought sneaks in through the cracks. One day, I’ll look like my mom, and will I still love myself the way I do now? Will someone like Rory still find me beautiful?

Connor didn’t, and I was nineteen. What about when I’m sixty?

Rory peers down at me, and I’ve never seen care in anyone’s eyes like this. “You’re so beautiful that it makes my chest hurt.”

My heart pounds.

“And even when we’re a hundred years old,” he whispers, “I’ll be flirting with you to get your attention.”

It’s funny, how he knows exactly what to say. How they’re just words, but they heal one of the cracks in my heart.

We stand on the sidewalk for a long time, wrapped tightly together while people maneuver around us.

“You’re incredible at what you do,” he murmurs into my hair, and the words sink right into my heart, dissolving into my blood. “Keep trying with her. One day, she might surprise you.”

I swallow, resting against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

I want to believe him so, so badly.





CHAPTER 38





HAZEL





“Thanks for walking me home,” I say to Rory as we approach my apartment. It’s a clear night, so the stars are out, sparkling in the dark sky.

I wait for him to tell me to invite him up. I’m not sure what I’ll say this time.

“Let’s go for a run,” he says instead. “Just a short one.” His hands are on my shoulders, and he’s leaning down to meet my eyes. “Two blocks.”

I snort.

“Ten feet.” His eyes plead. “We can run to the corner and back if you like. Come on, Hartley.” He glances to my apartment’s window. “You still have that gym bag I left the other day? You didn’t burn it?”

“Haven’t gotten around to it yet,” I say lightly, but he doesn’t laugh like I want him to.

He’s giving me that look again, the same one from the day we argued at the skating rink and he came after me, and the same one from earlier tonight. Like he needs me to be okay, like he’ll do anything to fix this hurt in my heart.

“Why are you doing this?” I breathe.

“Because you did it for me.” He searches my eyes. “So let’s shake it off together.” He brushes a soft, sweet kiss on my mouth, and my heart lodges in my throat. There’s such careful attention, such protectiveness in that little touch.

My eyes sting, but not for the same reasons as before.

“Okay?” he whispers.

I nod. “Okay.”

He smiles. “That’s my girl.”

Ten minutes later, we hit the pavement. It’s cool out and quiet as the city winds down. We stick to side streets until we reach the seawall. While we run, I replay what my mom said, and what I said.

“Alright, Hartley,” he says after ten minutes of silence. “I’ll make you a bet.”

We’re running along the sidewalk that overlooks English Bay, and the golden streetlights cast shadows on his features.

“A friendly competition,” he adds, and the corners of my mouth kick up.

“I’ve heard that before.”

“I know, and you lost. Badly.”

“Shut up.” I’m smiling, forgetting all the stuff at dinner. Forgetting how I cried in front of him.

“This is your opportunity to even the score.”

The stubborn part of me says don’t take the bait, but my competitive side wants more. “What’s your offer?”

He points at a sign at the end of this stretch of seawall, bordering the beach. “Let’s race to that sign.”

Normally, he’s faster than me. He’s tired from training today, though. I might be able to beat him. “And if I win?”

His smile is smug but his eyes are hot. “I’ll text you something sexy.”

Awareness shoots through me, but I keep the cool mask on my face. “Oh?”

“Yep. Something to keep you warm when I’m away.”

The team is traveling for away games for the next two weeks. A thousand images play through my head, and my pulse beats between my thighs. “And if you win?”

There’s a beat of silence, and I feel like I can’t get enough air as I look up at him.