Georgia was on her feet before her brain could really weigh in. “Cheese or peanut butter?”
“Uh, Sweet and Salty Caramel?”
Rawr. She ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed. I’m just doing this for the Combos, she told herself as she opened the door to his room and went inside.
He was sitting on the bed, mirroring her former position exactly, phone still to his ear. Lowering it slowly, he gave her a shy smile. “Midnight snack?” He tossed the phone aside and picked up the bag, tugging it open.
Again Georgia hesitated. Should she just climb up on the bed with him?
He patted the spot next to him. Then he picked up the remote and nudged the TV volume up. The announcer was talking about college basketball now.
Georgia sat down and swung her feet up. Leo handed her the open bag. They sat there crunching together for a couple of minutes, listening to the talking heads argue about who had the best chance to do well during March Madness. They finished the Combos quickly.
“Carolina looks good this year,” Leo said, balling up the bag.
“They look good every year. And yet it’s been a while.” She took the bottle of water he passed her and cracked it open. They watched several clips of unbelievably tall men flying toward the basket like gazelles.
That’s when déjà vu set in. This used to be them on any given weekend. Snacks and commentary. Sports and snark and easy conversation.
On the television, the presenter launched into the week’s sports bloopers. Leo drained his own bottle of water and tossed the empty onto the distant nightstand. He leaned back, his big body comfortable against the cushions. One of his hands fell onto her knee and gave a casual squeeze, then relaxed. He let out a chuckle at something funny on the screen. His big body was right there beside her. Close enough that she took in the scent of laundry soap and warm skin.
Georgia closed her eyes and just absorbed the moment. It was simple. Georgia and Leo, parked beside each other after a long day. A moment of late night peace. How many times had they sat like this together? A thousand?
The scene was so familiar, with one big exception. She wasn’t the same girl she’d been when they’d first watched the sports recaps together. That had been a different Georgia. Teenage Georgia thought that life would always be that easy. That her boyfriend would always love her. Weirdly, even though her mother had passed away when she was little, Georgia hadn’t really understood the power of loss until she was eighteen. She and Leo had probably watched this same television program the week before she’d been raped. Maybe they’d snacked on chips or passed a bottle of water back and forth. Maybe it was even the same brand.
Struck by a pang of dread for her younger self, Georgia felt a ripple of despair. That teenager sitting on the couch had had an easy laugh and a generous spirit. She thought everything would always be easy.
But it wasn’t. Not at all. She hadn’t known how everything could blow up so completely. That two people who’d always been so close could suddenly have a wall of fear and discomfort between them.
Her eyes began to sting, and the TV went into soft focus.
Damn it.
Georgia slid off the bed and headed for the bathroom—Leo’s bathroom. So it wouldn’t look like she was sprinting away. She closed the door and flicked on the light, catching herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red and her face was flushed. Ugh. She sat down on the edge of the tub, annoyed at the older Georgia. This one fled into bathrooms and got teary.
That was the problem with Leo turning up. Two weeks ago, if you’d asked Georgia whether or not she was doing well, she would have answered hell yes. She had a good life in Brooklyn and she didn’t walk around scared all the time. She’d healed, goddamn it. So what if she hadn’t dated anyone more than twice in six years? Good men were thin on the ground. It wasn’t because she was damaged goods.
And yet . . . Leo waltzed into town and threw everything into high relief. Suddenly it was impossible not to compare her old life with her new one. And the new one didn’t stack up so well.
Georgia pushed her fingertips into the corners of her eyes and took a deep breath.
There was a tap on the door. “Gigi? You okay?”
“Yeah,” she bit out. A tear escaped its prison and trickled down her finger.
The door opened a crack, and one brown eye looked down at her. Then the door opened further to reveal Leo’s concerned face. He held out a hand. “Come here, Gi. Come sit with me.”
She shook her head. Sitting beside Leo would just make it ache.
“Please,” he whispered.
Georgia stood up. Her plan was to beat it to her own room before the trickle turned to a river. She’d never been a cryer, either. Not until after she’d been . . . A sob forced itself out of her chest.
Two arms pulled her against the warm wall of Leo’s chest. She took a deep, shaky breath and bit her lip, trying to stop the fricking tears. But she’d been holding it all back for days. And he felt so good. Her eyes dripped like leaky faucets, and she pressed her forehead into his T-shirt so she couldn’t see her own miserable face in the mirror. “I’m sorry,” she said, the words garbled by the fresh-smelling cotton.
“Nah,” he said softly. “Come on now.” He bent his knees and lifted her a foot off the ground, his forearm catching her under her backside.
She closed her eyes and pressed her hot cheek against his shoulder. There was the sound of effort as he flung the comforter aside and deposited her onto the bed. Then he clicked off the lamp.
Since the TV was already black, the room became dark, except for the low light shining through the open door from her own room.
Leo traveled around to the opposite side of the king-sized bed and got in. His voice came through the dark, the sound a cross between a growl and a whisper. “Let me hold you.”
She rolled, depositing her chin on his shoulder. Strong arms pulled her closer, until she was half on his body. It felt divine. Except for one problem. “I don’t even want to count all the times you’ve held me while I cried.” The words sounded bitter. But she was bitter. To be with Leo meant going back to that place where they both felt bad about what had happened, and what they’d lost.
His hand sifted through her hair while she waited for him to say something. “I don’t like it when you’re sad,” he admitted. “But we had a lot more good than bad.”
That was a ridiculously optimistic way of looking at it, considering how all the sadness at the end had killed off their special bond. But Georgia didn’t want to argue the point. She stretched an arm across his broad chest and sighed.
“Why are you upset, Gigi?” he asked. “Tell me so I can make it better.”
You make me ache. She didn’t say it out loud, though. Because Leo would ask why, and it wasn’t really his fault. She didn’t feel like admitting that she hadn’t recovered quite as thoroughly as she’d thought. “I’m overwhelmed,” she said instead.