The Natural History of Us (18 page)

Here goes nothing…

“Listen, Jutsin.” I released a breath and straightened to my imposing five-foot-four frame. “I know I'm not your normal type. I'm not cool or popular or beautiful.” His frown deepened at that and I rolled my eyes. “I have no delusions here, okay? I'm not a Diamond Doll or mindless groupie pretending I don't know how to throw a frigging ball. That's not me.”

“I never said—”

My finger jumped across his lips, silencing him. I think I surprised us both. “It's just…” I took a calming breath and admitted, “I like you. A lot. I guess I just thought you should know that.”

Bafflement. I'm pretty sure that was the only word to describe Justin's reaction as emotion flooded his eyes and a puff of warm air escaped his lips. I jerked my finger back as if he'd burned it.

Justin shook his head. “But…
why
?”

I squinted my eyes. Was he joking?

“I'm serious, Sunshine. I don't get it. What could someone like you possibly see in a guy like me?”

Someone like me
. Those three words repeated in my brain, wounding me with their simplicity. But the crazy thing was, the longer I studied him, reading nothing but total sincerity in his eyes along with an almost boyish vulnerability, I realized this wasn't some player move or some strange attempt to feed his ego.

Justin Carter actually wanted to know how
I
could swoon over
him
.

“Um, well, your passion, for one,” I said. “Every time you step out onto that field, you kill it. You refuse to settle for less than your personal best, and everyone around you follows your lead.”

His nostrils flared with an inhale and his hungry gaze clung to mine. Could this beautiful boy seriously not know how special he was? A zing of confidence shot through me
at the knowledge that this was something I could do for him, something no one else had. Smiling, emboldened, I pressed my chest against the fence.

“I also like the way you make people laugh,” I told him with a smile. “I think your obsession with Larry Dierker is freaking adorable. You get all soft and gooey when you talk about your brother, and I love that your ears turn bright red when I ask about your writing.”

Justin's lips twitched, the tips of his ears flashing a vivid crimson, and I laughed aloud.

“Yep, sorry to break it to you, Carter, but you're busted. There's so much more to you than the world sees, but my blinders are off. You're not hiding anything from me.”

It was weird, admitting all that to the boy I liked. He could totally use it against me, make fun of me, take the heart I'd clearly just attached to my sleeve and smash it. But I trusted him. Even if he did choose to hurt me, I was glad I told him how I felt. He deserved to know.

“Yo, Justin!”

At the loud call, we jerked. Drew Jamison stood a few feet away, eyeing us both. The game was about to start.

Justin nodded and yelled back, “I'll be right there!” while I reached in my back pocket and grasped the present I'd brought for him. When he looked back at me, I grinned.

“Hold out your hand.” At the expression on his face, I rolled my eyes. “Just do it.” Cautiously, as if I was going to put out a cobra or something, he uncurled his fingers and lifted his palm. I dropped a small silver coin in the center. “For luck.”

Wonder warred with confusion in his gorgeous brown eyes and my heart melted.

“On this side there's a horseshoe,” I said, my cheeks warming with a blush. “You know, the universal symbol for luck… and a small reminder of me.”

I bit my lip, hoping he didn't think that was too corny—or that it revealed too much.

I flipped the coin over, exposing the other side, and my fingers slid across his rough skin. My breath caught. When I lifted my eyes, I found him watching me with so much intensity, so much
heat
, that an actual shiver rolled through me. Just like in my favorite books.

Huh. So that was what smoldering looked like. Good to know.

I swallowed hard and noticed him do the same, and nothing could hold back my giddy smile. Justin glanced down and laughed. “Kick some ass!” he read, skimming his fingernail over my initials.

“I figured…” I cleared my throat. “I thought you could hide it in your sock or something,” I said, unable to tell if he liked the gift or not. He just kept staring at it. “If it's dumb, you don't have to—”

“No.”

He'd said it so quietly I almost wasn't sure he'd spoken at all. But then he closed his hand around the coin and raised his head. Time ceased to exist as Justin's eyes trailed across my face. I held my breath waiting and a sweet smile crossed his face.

“Damn.” He shook his head softly. “You've done it now.”

“What?” I asked, hoping whatever it was that it was a good thing. “What did I do?”

Justin merely shook his head again and smiled. “Wait for me after the game.” Shifting his gaze to the old concession stand, he took a step back and said, “Over there, okay?”

When I nodded, excitement lodging in my throat, making it impossible to speak, he winked and then took off to join his teammates. As I watched his cute butt in those uniform pants run across the field, a giddy grin found my lips.

The
coin in my sock felt weighted. It was as if every doubt, every reason I shouldn't do what I was about to do clung to its polished surface, bearing down on my ankle and preventing me from moving forward.

If the guys had known what I was planning, they'd crucify me. We'd just made the “Casual/Commitment” list, all agreed on what side Peyton landed, and here I was ignoring the truth. Or acknowledging it and doing it anyway.

Sunshine could get hurt. Truthfully, this was the only consequence that gave me any pause. Before anything happened, I'd have to make it clear who I was, exactly what I could offer her, but if after that, Peyton wanted me anyway, I was hers. I was done fighting it.

Coach would burst a freaking blood vessel. No dad wanted to open the door to their daughter's guy and see my face on the other side, especially not him. He knew exactly what we were like, had heard it with his own ears in the locker room. Besides that, I'd seen the way he watched her from the dugout. I saw the fear that still glazed his eyes. She was his baby, his princess, and I was the evil ass who'd inevitably break her heart.

Any
one
of those reasons should've had me headed back to the locker room, celebrating the day's victory with my teammates. Forgetting the way Peyton's eyes lit up when I asked her to meet me after the game. Added together, well, I was a damn fool for pursuing her. But, call me a dumbass or a
selfish prick, I
needed
this girl in my life. Her joy, her optimism. Her warm smile and honeyed laugh.

I rounded the corner, and Peyton's eager eyes met mine.

And maybe, just maybe, she needed me, too.

“Hey.”

Her voice was soft and shaky as it floated on the stiff wind. Along with her bouncing foot, it was obvious she was nervous. What was crazy was that for the first time in my life, I was, too.

“Hey,” I replied. I didn't stop walking when I reached her, though. I took her hand and pulled her back behind the painted green brick building, away from any spying, gossiping eyes. Concessions stopped being served during the fifth inning, so the two of us were alone… well except for the oppressive smell of buttery popcorn and chili dogs. But it was better safe than sorry.

The second we cleared the corner, I dropped Peyton's hand. I still got off on the feel of her smooth, satiny skin against mine, but there was no way I'd get through this if I continued to hold her. She was too tempting. I took a step back, closer toward the chain-link fence, and said, “You know this is a bad idea, right?”

She craned an eyebrow. “What, talking?” she asked with a sarcastic smirk. “Sure, I mean, I've heard open communication can totally be hazardous to your health, but somehow, I think we'll survive.”

I huffed a laugh as I laced my fingers behind my neck. Her sass was adorable. Almost as cute as her innocence.

But thoughts like
that
were what got me in this mess to begin with.

“Listen, Peyton, you've gotta know I suck at relationships.” Too wound up to stay still, I started down the short path behind the building. “Even I've heard the rumors about me, and believe me, they exist for a reason. I'm no good at that
touchy-feely crap girls like. I don't do emotions. They're messy and annoying and I don't have time for that shit.”

I made it to one end of the path and began retracing my steps. “You deserve to be with a guy who'll bring you flowers and take you out. Who'll show you off in front of his friends and introduce you to his parents.” I stopped in front of her but had to look away as I admitted, “That'll never be me.”

Owning the truth hurt, but it had to be said. She
did
deserve better than me, and if telling her that helped Peyton to realize it, then all the better. Not better for me, obviously. I still wanted her. But it would be a hell of a lot better for her.

I should've known, though, that she wouldn't do what I expected. She hadn't since the day I met her, so why start now? Instead of walking away like she probably should've done, what most girls in her place
would've
done, Peyton rolled her shoulders back, shook her head, and said, “I don't care. I don't need any of that.”

“Yes,” I told her. “You do.”

She opened her mouth to argue, again, and I tapped a finger against her lips. “And I wish that I could be the guy who gave it to you. But I'm not. You saw my house. It's cold, it's heartless, and it's my life.” I laughed a humorless laugh, and shrugged like it didn't bother me. “I'm Mitch Carter's son. I don't know the first thing about healthy relationships.”

Peyton rolled her eyes. “That's bullshit.”

The crude word in her sweet voice got my attention. “Excuse me?”

She stepped toward me and lifted a hand as if to touch the side of my face, then dropped it somewhere between us. I couldn't tell if I was grateful or disappointed.

“You forget, Justin, I saw your brother's picture,” she said. “I saw the look in your eyes when you told me about him. I'm not saying your home life isn't strained, or your parents aren't sucky, egotistical jerkoffs. From what I've gathered, they
wouldn't know the meaning of unconditional love if it hit them square in the face. But your brother? Chase? He's amazing.” Her eyes softened as she took another step closer. “And it's clear that boy loves you like crazy.”

My ribs squeezed. She was right, actually. Despite my many fuckups, Chase was like my mini-me. We were only half-brothers—a fact his mother reminded me of daily—but that never seemed to matter. Chase followed me around, dressed to match, and begged me to play trucks with him every chance he got. At night, whenever he threw his short arms around my neck and told me he loved me, I vowed to one day become a man he could be proud of.

Up until this year, he'd been the one good spot in my life. The one person who made me feel like I belonged.

“Dad says you're an incredible leader and the most skillful player he's seen in years,” she continued. “In fact, Mama and I are getting pretty sick of him bragging about your ‘natural talent' at dinner.”

She pulled a face as she made air quotes, then smiled to show she was teasing. I couldn't help but grin. Our eyes held for a moment before she took the final step forward, erasing the distance between us.

“And you've got me,” she whispered. “I care about you, Justin. More than you know.”

I swallowed thickly. She was missing the point. “But that's just it. If this goes south,” I motioned between the two of us, “and we both know I'll find some way to ruin it, then I'm out. I lose you, and I lose your dad's respect. I can't do that, Peyton. I just… can't.”