Page 55 of Untying the Knot
She swallows.
I swallow.
And then I watch her twist her lips to the side. “I don’t know . . . they were sort of—”
“Don’t even fucking lie. You know they’re good.”
That makes her smile. “Unfortunately, you’re right. They are good.”
“Why is that unfortunate? That means we have good chemistry, right?”
“Right, but I don’t want good chemistry with you.”
I’m about to shove the rest of the éclair in my mouth when I pause. “Why the hell not?”
“Because I told you, I don’t do dating or anything like that, so the fact that we have good chemistry sadly puts a damper on my morals.”
“Maybe this is the universe telling you to give me a chance. Besides, isn’t it fate that we ended up at this class together?”
“No, I think that’s meticulous planning behind the scenes toforcethat to happen.”
“Either way,” I say, brushing off her comment, “I think you should give us a chance.”
“And then what? Date you? Aren’t you busy with baseball? Don’t you have a demanding schedule?”
“I do, but I also have a personal life. It’s all about balance. I’m here at a baking class with you today, aren’t I?”
“I guess so.” She twists her lips to the side, giving it some thought. “But why me? Why are you so interested? It’s not like I’ve blown steam up your ass like probably every other girl you’ve met. I don’t toss you compliments you most likely receive daily from others around you. And I’ve done my very best to keep you at a DM distance only.”
That she has, and it’s been infuriating.
“Why you? Isn’t it obvious? You put a smile on my face, Myla. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since you curled up in my wall décor that one night.”
“That was years ago. I’m pretty sure you stopped thinking about me at some point.”
“Maybe here and there, but you were always in the back of my mind.” I reach out and link our hands together. “Don’t you want to see where this chemistry can lead?”
“No,” she answers and then looks up at me through her eyelashes. “Maybe.”
Hope springs in my chest from that one simple word.
Maybe.
There’s a goddamn chance, which means I can’t push her. I need to take today as a win and keep slowly gaining her trust.
“Okay, well, good to know.” I smile, release her hand, and pick up another éclair.
“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say? Good to know?”
“Yup.”
“What kind of game are you playing, Bisley?”
Game? The only person who would say that is someone insecure in relationships. And after the short conversation I had with her about her parents, I can guarantee you that question stems from the toxicity of the household she grew up in.
So I need to reassure her. She’s delicate, fragile, and having spent more time with her, I can see the baggage she carries on her shoulders. Slowly and surely, I need to gently lift that off so she can be free. So she can enjoy life and take part in a relationship—something I know she wants when I look her in the eyes.
Taking a chance, I lightly cup her cheek. Keeping her eyes locked on mine, I say, “Myla, I can guarantee you one thing, the only game I play is baseball. Nothing else.”
