The Roommate Pact(66)
He sat beside her, seemingly intent on looking anywhere but the campus, his large body filling the seat, dark head leaning back against the leather.
“Graham?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you tell me what happened with Angela?”
He stared at her for a long moment before turning his attention straight ahead, considering.
When he didn’t speak for several seconds, she realized she’d never hear the real story. Disappointment burrowed deep, surprising her. It shouldn’t matter, but she’d really thought they’d become closer.
She thought he saw her differently and trusted her enough to open up. She’d learned more about him in the last few weeks than in years prior and he’d brought her to Santa Fe, but apparently there was still a line he refused to cross.
Swallowing a thick lump, she sighed. It was probably for the best, since she planned to put some distance between them when they got back, anyway. “Never mind.”
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed him tilt his head back, resting it against the seat. “I told you I was the poor kid at that school. That I didn’t fit in.” He ran a hand down his face. “In middle school every day was complete misery. I hated it so much, I can’t even describe it. But my dad worked damn hard to get me there, and he and my mom were so sure with a good education I’d have a better chance at college and beyond. Neither of them went to college, so it was a huge deal to them. So I sucked it up and got through it.
“In eighth grade Angela and I were paired up for a science project. She was actually nice to me, and I thought we’d become friends. She talked to me in science class and even acknowledged me in the hallways. She was popular, attractive, and the first person to treat me like I wasn’t complete trash. I fell hard for that girl, and out of some stupid boyish grandeur, I asked her to the school dance.”
“She said no?” The words tasted like acid in her mouth.
The laugh he released then was harsh and clipped. “Not only did she turn me down, she did it in quite spectacular fashion. I became the laughingstock, and the rest of that year was even worse than before.”
Claire gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white. Anger rushed through her like a Colorado river after massive snowmelt. Sure, it had been a long time ago. But she also knew how defining those middle school years could be, a critical time for self-esteem and influencing the way kids saw themselves and other people. Wounds inflicted in those awkward, should-be-gentle years of young adulthood seemed to heal much more slowly than any others she’d obtained.
Hell, she still remembered the name of her first boyfriend in sixth grade (Drew Nesbitt) and how he broke up with her (he drew a picture of a dump truck and asked a friend to pass her the note) just one week in. It had sucked, and that was with a ton of friends to lean on. She hadn’t been a loner or had an entire class laughing at her expense.
It must have been terrible.
“I really, really wish I’d known the whole story before we ran into her last night,” she bit out.
Graham turned his torso in her direction. “Why?”
“I would have come up with something so much worse than just rubbing your ridiculous sexiness in her face.”
He grinned, and a little bit of her anger melted away. “I think your extreme sexiness is what bothered her the most. Isn’t that how women’s minds work? They care more about showing up the other woman than the man himself?”
“Sometimes, yeah. Dammit, I should have brought something sluttier. I packed for meeting your parents, not showing up the bitch that screwed you over.”
“What you did was incredible, Claire. I’ve never had anyone stand up for me like that. Especially not a woman.” He reached over and slipped his palm around the back of her neck, giving a light squeeze. “Thank you.”
His tone held a hint of wonder, like he still couldn’t believe she’d done it.
Unacceptable. “You know you deserve that, right?” she asked, though it came out more like a statement than a question. “Someone who cares about you so much they’d fight for you and can’t stand the idea of someone hurting you?”
His thumb rubbed up and down across her skin and she simultaneously wished he’d stop and never take his hand from her.
She’d definitely let herself get too close.
“I didn’t.” He swallowed. “I’d never felt that before. From another person, I mean. I never felt valued like that. Until recently.”
She wanted to look at him longer than the few seconds she could without running off the road.
“I think I’ve changed a little. Since the accident. I’ve had a lot of time to think and reflect, and I’ve spent a lot of time with you. Something about you makes me feel worthy in a way I didn’t know I ever could.”
An alarm sounded in the rational side of her brain, warning her this was dangerous territory. A line she was apparently determined to leap over multiple times this weekend against her better judgment, and she was about to do it again.
But Graham didn’t say things like that. Didn’t use to, anyway. The admission was significant, and with his tendency to deflect from serious topics the last thing she could do was let it go. Even if things between them couldn’t last, it wasn’t because he wasn’t a wonderful man.
It wouldn’t be long before they got home and she retreated out of self-preservation, but for now, wasn’t it more important to confirm his words than to protect herself?