Summer's Last Breath

Part 33

Saturday was a scheduled guys' day at the house. College football was in full swing and today FSU was playing Georgia Tech, a game my dad and the guys had been looking forward to.

Football games meant chili and hot wings. I'd thrown together a big batch of chili and Ross had volunteered to stop and pick up a few dozen hot wings. Knowing Jamie wouldn't touch the chili on account of the beef—he said it tasted like dirt—I'd attempted my first pot of seafood gumbo, a task that ended with me upstairs in my bathroom, getting reacquainted with the peanut butter and banana sandwich I'd eaten earlier. I thought it pretty ironic seafood seemed to be what triggered my bouts of nausea, and I'd blamed Jamie as I'd sat on the tile floor, hugging the toilet.

I was lying on my bed, contemplating hiding out in my room when the guys arrived. I had no idea how things stood between them since Donovan decided to turn asshole, and Jamie hadn't said much about it. My feelings were still bruised by what Donovan had said, but I was more hurt that he'd let so much time go by without offering an apology, not that I was inclined to accept.

A soft knock sounded on my door.

"Come in," I said, expecting it to be my dad or Jamie. I bolted upright when Donovan peeked his head around the door, looking understandably cautious and satisfyingly guilty.

"Hey." He stepped inside my room, leaving the door open behind him. His right eye was every shade of black and blue and still swollen. A strip of white tape bisected his nose. I wouldn't feel sorry for him, no matter how badly his face looked like it hurt. He deserved it.

"Hey," I said coolly, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Erin..." He dug his hands deep into the pockets of his khaki shorts. I wouldn't be swayed by his puppy dog eyes. I was considering punching him myself.

"Your dad said I could come up and talk to you. Hope that's all right."

I glared at him. "So talk. It probably won't do any good."

"I'm so sorry. I was so far out of line the other day, and I've got no good excuse."

Holding to my anger I said, "What you said hurt. It hurt you could even think that."

"I know, and I only said what I did because I knew it would hurt. I was pissed drunk and..." His eyes grew all gooey soft and he swallowed. "I was jealous. I'd always hoped... Hell, I've been counting down the days until your eighteenth birthday. I had three hundred and ninety-four days to go and then I was going to tell you how I felt about you, but it doesn't matter now, because you're with Jamie. I took it out on you and you're the last person I'd want to hurt. I didn't mean what I said about Jamie or the baby. You've got to believe that. I was hurt and I was wrong and I'm sorry."

I sighed and dropped my arms. I thought I'd be able to hold on to my anger longer, but I hadn't expected him to come up here with his heart on his sleeve, laying it out like that. And I was bit stunned his feelings for me ran that deep. I'd never detected anything from him other than strictly platonic vibes.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"Don't you dare say you're sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. I just wanted to apologize and ask you to forgive me. I still want to be friends, if that's possible. But I understand if it's not. I'm the first to admit I was a Grade A jerk."

"You were a fucking asshole."

"Yeah," he laughed. "But I'm not supposed to say that around you. I'm throwing myself at your mercy here. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I am asking for it. I've made good with the guys. I've talked to Jamie and we're cool. He still wants to beat my ass, but that's just because he cares about you."