Heartbreaker Hanson (6 page)

I
swallowed. “Nick’s been gone a long time.”

I
jerked the conversation around again, just because, well, we were
alone—Drew and I. And it seemed maybe we shouldn’t be. I mean, okay, we
probably
definitely
shouldn’t be. The
guy had kissed me, and I had a massive crush on him—these things did not
bode well for a happy ending. Well, not for a guy in a relationship. And me
friends with his girlfriend … or the fact he
had
a girlfriend.

“Yeah,
he has been gone a long time,” Drew agreed with a smile, not sounding worried
at all. His grin quirked playfully, “Kind of rude to just leave me here, isn’t
it?”

“Well,
it’s
weird
that he did.” I gazed at
my cards, then dared ask, “Why are they practicing so late anyway?”

“They
aren’t practicing over there, they’re having a party.” Drew studied my bowed
head while I tried to act interested in my cards and like I didn’t notice he
was trying to get me to look at him. His voice came out massively concerned, “Brooke,
that guy Kenny is obsessed with you, or something. He won a round of darts and
then kept telling Nick to go home and get you—that he wanted you for his
prize.”

A
shudder went through me.

I
bit my lip, needing to change the conversation. “So, you were at the party,
too?”

“Yeah,
but like I said, Nick had some stuff he needed to get from here, so I had him
drop me off. He said you were out babysitting, but I thought I’d wait for you.”

“To
take me to the party to be Kenny’s prize?” I asked horrified and unable to hide
the disgust I felt.

“No.”
Drew laughed a little at my confusion. Then he added softly, “—to talk to
you.”

Tingles
ran through my body. He wanted to talk to me! He had stayed here, missing a
party, to talk to me.

I
tried to get a grip.
Breathe, Brooke
.

“Talk
to me about what?” I asked hesitantly, trying to prepare myself for a big
let-down topic, like what should he get Laurie for her Birthday, or something
like that. (Well, that
used
to
be what he would talk to me about.)

Drew
shook his head slightly. “Nothing really, just talk, like we’re doing.” He
peeked into my reluctant eyes. “I wanted to make sure everything was okay
between us after the other night.”

I
groaned. I meant to just do it inwardly—in my head—but it came out
of me sort of loud. And tortured-like.

“—and
the kiss,” he added, just as I knew he would, which is mostly why I groaned.

“Let’s
not talk about it,” I urged/pleaded/commanded.

Drew
thumped his forehead lightly on the table, then gazed up at me silently for a
moment. “I just think we should talk about it. Won’t you please talk to me
about it?”

“Drew,
I can’t. Can’t we just forget it?”

His
jaw muscles flickered. He stared at me looking pensive.

Slowly
he shook his head. “
I
can’t forget
it.”

Neither
could I. But I couldn’t tell him that. No way.

No way, no way, no way
.

He
drew out a breath as he continued to stare at me and I continued to stare at my
cards as though they were absolutely fascinating—though I couldn’t really
even see them.

“Okay,
lets not talk about the kiss then. Let’s talk about the other night,” he said
in resign, his voice husky and low. “What happened the other night, Brooke? We
were talking, and having a good time—at least
I
was having a good time—and then you got scared or
something. Brooke, what scared you?”

“I
don’t know,” I hedged. But then I couldn’t help smiling. I tilted my head up at
him. “You were having a good time?”

“Yeah.
Weird, huh?”

He
grinned, “I have a good time just studying when I’m with you.”

My
smile broadened with pleasure. To idiotic proportions. I attempted to hide it
with my cards and tried desperately to think melancholy thoughts to calm my
face down, but no way was that on the agenda. Not even close. Drew’s splendid
compliment danced around in my head, making it impossible to think about
anything else. He liked being with me!

“That
makes you happy?” he asked highly amused. “Well, good. So what happened to
spoil our moment?”

I
swallowed, but knew I had to call him out on it. “You said you had been
thinking about me a lot.”

His
jaw muscles flickered. He stared at me intently. “That bothers you, that I’ve
been thinking about you?”

I
nodded—because
duh
.

“You’re
my friend’s
boyfriend
, and you’re
my
friend, and I want us to stay
friends—both you and me, and Laurie and me—and if you keep playing
around with my head I doubt in the end any of us will still be friends.”

He
shook his head, looking frustrated. “I’m not playing around with you Brooke.”

“Okay,
well, then please stop whatever it is you
are
doing, and let’s just go back to being friends.”

I
thought maybe he would play innocent and ask what I was talking about, saying
he wasn’t doing anything, but he didn’t play that game. Instead he just dryly
added an ending comment to my plea, “—so you can feel comfortable.”

“Yeah,
so I can feel comfortable.” I looked him in the eye challengingly. “Is that so
bad to just want to feel comfortable?”

“No,
but there’s more to life than just being comfortable.”

“Yeah,
there’s friendship. Drew, I need the few friends I have. Since Rachel died I’ve
realized I don’t have many. It would be so easy to keep playing this game
you’ve started and end up with none.”

“Brooke
it’s not a game, stop calling it a game.”

“Can
we just go back to acting like friends?” I pleaded.

“We
can do whatever you want.”

He
said it softly, sounding as though it held a lot of significance. Like,
‘The ball is in your hands Brooke, do with
it what you will. We can stay friends, and you can stay comfortable forever
loving me from afar, or you can take a chance on me being honest with you, and
believe that I really have feelings for you.’

It
was like whatever I decided to do he would go along with. But it was strange
because the truth was: I didn’t have a choice. At all. He was my friend’s
boyfriend, and the fact that he was
anybody’s
boyfriend meant that all I could do was choose the friendship scenario; there
was no other option even available. It was either stay friends … or
not
stay friends. That was it. The only
options.

His
words bounced around in my brain like a cruel joke
—‘We can do whatever you want.’

“Then
let’s just play cards,” I said.

He
drew out a breath and ran a hand over his face, then he said softly with disappointed
resign, “Okay.”

For
a while we played in silence. I was nervous that he was mad at me or something,
since Drew isn’t one of those guys that doesn’t talk. However, he’s not one
that gets mad either.

I
was relieved when he started talking again—which didn’t take very long,
yet felt like an awkward eternity.

We
mostly talked about school, then Drew said, “Nick’s band sounded really good
tonight.”

He
went on to tell me funny stuff that happened at the party, and things felt like
they did last year between us, and I
did
feel extremely comfortable and content. There’s a lot to be said for
friendship.

 
Still, I found myself gazing at his
hands dreamily, wondering what it would be like to have such big, strong things
lovingly caress me. I yearned to experience such an extraordinary phenomenon.
It seemed it would be … spectacular. Exquisitely amazing.

I
jerked out of my twisted fantasies of his hands to find him silently watching
me as though he knew what I had been fantasizing. Convoluted yearning stirred
in me. I wanted him so bad—but it was wrong.

What
he didn’t understand was every look he gave me—everything he did and
said—it all went right to my heart. That’s what his stare was doing to me
now—clutching and caressing my tortured, haunted, longing heart.

I
cleared my throat. “I should go to bed,” I choked out after a moment of being
mesmerized in his gaze.

As
I started to get up, he gently grasped my arm. “Stay,” he requested huskily.

“I
can’t.” My voice was full of emotion. “You
know
I can’t. So this is some sort of twisted game to you—”

“Brooke,
it’s not—”

“Yes
it is! You talk about Laurie and her birthday party coming up—but you
look at me like you want to kiss me. You’re playing a game and I’m not used to
that kind of stuff with you—and I don’t want to play.”

Drew
lowered his brow.

He
gently held on to me again as I rose from the table. I tried to squirm away
from his hold, but it was no use. None. He’s a gigantic football player.

He
gently backed me up against the wall. He caged me against it, his large hands
coming on either side of me. He stared into my eyes, his voice coming out
earnest and constrained, “I’m not playing a game with you, Brooke. I wish I
was, but I’m not.”

When
I ducked my gaze to avoid his lingering stare, he drew out a frustrated breath.

His
shoulders rose and fell, then he held both my wrists in one hand, using his
other to cup my chin. He gently made me look up into his eyes again. “I’m not
playing a game.”

I
had never heard Drew be so serious in all my life. He was always playful and
teasing and full of humor. It kind of scared me to see him so serious.

Holding
my breath, I whispered, “What are you saying?”

Was
he saying that he loved me now too? Had I suddenly joined the school football
team in Drew’s eyes?

“I
think you know what I’m saying,” he said as he let go of my wrists. He moved his
large hands back to either side of me on the wall, his eyes staying glued to
mine.

I
could feel the heat from his body. And imagined I could feel his heart pounding
as hard as mine.

“Please
let me go, Drew,” I begged.

He
shook his head slightly. Didn’t let me go. Instead, he stared at me frustrated
and intently, as though he had so much he wanted to say if I would only let
him.

But
after a moment he relented. “I’m going to let you go Brooke, but we can’t go
back to the way we were. My feelings have changed for you, and I’m really sorry
if it makes you uncomfortable, but I can’t pretend that things aren’t different
between us, because they are.”

After
he said those words he slowly reluctantly backed away from me, letting me go.

I
could feel his lingering gaze glued to me as I wobbled away from him. But I
didn’t look back at him or say a word.

What
could I say?

Yes,
things were definitely different between us, but they shouldn’t be.

They
couldn’t
be.

CHAPTER 12

After
leaving staring Drew in my kitchen, I shakily hobbled up to my room and threw
myself across my bed. I was so confused. And torn. I loved him so much my heart
hurt.
So, of course it was full of
joy and dramatic stuff learning that he cared about me so intensely, yet at the
same time, it sort of ached (painfully bad) because in a way, I had lost my
hero—the Drew that I had loved since the third grade,
that
boy could do no wrong. He was
replaced by a person with human emotions and feelings, a person who could cheat
on his girlfriend if given the opportunity. That made me so sad.

Before
that kiss I had thought of him as above reproach. Alright, so I had pretty much
thought of him as a God, but there had been reason—
ample
reason. Face it: until his recent feelings for me turned him
into a “guy” I had never before seen him do anything wrong. Ever. The guy never
cheated on
anything
, so I found it
hard to believe he would cheat on his girlfriend. Yet … after our
heart-stopping conversation tonight, it seemed he was willing to do just that.
That knowledge did so many convoluted things to my confused heart—destroyed
it, yet at the same time made me realize the possible extent of his feelings
for me.

I
pulled the covers over my head and groaned.

What
a hopeless situation! I had loved Drew for so long that it had just become a
natural part of my life. It was like breathing. Something I didn’t question, or
dwell on, it was just something I did. I really never felt all that guilty—being
in love with my friend’s boyfriend. I had loved him first, and really, deep
down, I felt I loved him best. Laurie had never even noticed Drew’s existence
until he became the hero of the school football team. Then all the sudden
everyone noticed him. All the girls suddenly loved him. Everyone’s feelings
changed towards him. But not mine. I didn’t love him any more because of his
new recognition. In fact, if it was possible to love him any more than I
already did, it was because earning everyone’s love and admiration hadn’t changed
him. He was still the good-natured, down-to-earth guy he had always been.

Secretly
loving Drew while he was dating Laurie had given me huge twinges of
guilt—of course. But suddenly having Drew’s feelings reciprocated was
quite another story. Suddenly I had to face my feelings. Face reality. Face the
fact I couldn’t take my friend’s boyfriend away from her. No way. That wasn’t
me. That was evil.

It
didn’t help knowing that if the roles were reversed Laurie probably wouldn’t
have major qualms about snatching up
my
boyfriend. After all, she’d snatched away plenty of her friend’s boyfriends in
the past. That was a cold hard fact to face, but it was a sad truth. That
knowledge didn’t really help me though, because face it, it didn’t matter what
Laurie would do. I was nothing like Laurie…. Though at the moment I couldn’t
feel
too
morally superior to her. In
fact, at the moment I didn’t even seem to have that up on her whatsoever. I
wanted Drew so badly that I ached, and felt I would practically give my soul to
be with him.

So,
of course I felt all kinds of guilty. Thinking about poor Laurie innocently
sleeping at her cousin’s house oblivious to the betrayal of her boyfriend and friend.

Laurie
wasn’t the best friend that a person could ask for. Far from it. She was
shallow and self-centered and insensitive. But still, she was my friend. She
just was. There were times she had really been there for me—like when
Rachel died. She hadn’t left me to wallow in my despair, like a lot of my “friends”
did. She forced me to leave my house and do things. She
dragged
me to parties—she was my friend. And how was I going
to repay her for her kindness? By stealing her boyfriend? Yeah, real nice. I knew
I couldn’t do that to her. I mean, she fought with him constantly through most
of their relationship, and for the most part had treated him unfairly, but I
knew she loved him—desperately.

Not
that any of my angst really mattered anyway. Drew had never offered to break up
with Laurie. To have me be his one and only. Nothing like that. Actually, he
really hadn’t offered anything. At all. All he really said was that we couldn’t
be friends any longer, that his feelings had moved beyond friendship. But he
hadn’t actually said where they had moved to … not that I had given him a chance
to say much of anything.

But
that was because we couldn’t
be
anything.

As
much as I wanted to be his everything—like he had always been
mine—still, the more I thought about it, the more I knew it was
impossible.