Cliff McAden hasn't been home in four years, and wasn't expecting to meet a woman as gentle and quietly beautiful as Annie Edwards when he finally came back. It's hard for him to believe anyone could be interested in a scarred, disheartened man like...
As he stared at Annie standing in the doorway, Cliff felt like someone had hit the factory reset button on his brain.
The first thing he noticed were her legs. long, slender, and milky white. He'd never known the sight of a woman's legs could get his blood pumping like that. Then he looked up, saw that she was wearing his shirt--some old shirt from high school that he hadn't thought about in years--and his brain really went kaput.
His gaze found her face and he finally managed to say hi, right as he noticed her eyes were red and puffy behind her glasses, lips swollen and flushed with color. She'd been crying, and the sight of it sent a pang straight through him.
"Are you okay?" he found himself asking before he could reconsider. Maybe she didn't want to talk about it--judging by the look on her face, she hadn't expected to run into anyone.
"Yeah, I'm... Just hungry. Oh!" She looked down as Fritters came around the island. As if the cat could sense that she needed it, he strolled over and weaved between her legs, nuzzling and nudging against her. Annie gasped at the sudden affection, a smile jumping onto her face--but when she leaned down to pet him, Fritters let out an annoyed hiss and swiped at her hand before Cliff could do anything to stop him. With a yelp of pain she reeled back, clutching her hand.
"Fritters!" Cliff scolded, shooing him away with a wave. The cat meowed and hurried around the island. "Bad!"
A sniffle drew his attention--there were fresh tears on Annie's cheeks, a sight that shook him more than he ever could have expected it to. "I'm sorry," she said, voice strained. "I didn't mean to upset him." She turned, stepping towards the door.
"Please, don't," he blurted. He found himself panicking, wanting nothing more than to comfort her. "I'm sorry. Did he get you bad? Are you bleeding?"
She shook her head, laughing as she turned back to face him, using the palm of her hand to wipe her face. "It's just a scratch. Don't be sorry--it's not Fritters' fault. I'm just... I don't know."
He kept his voice soft--she always seemed fragile to him, but now more so than ever. "I'm getting the feeling it wasn't a very fun bachelorette party."
She looked away, shrugging. "It's nothing. Just stupid stuff. I should probably just sleep it off."
"You shouldn't go to bed hungry." The pastry he'd been about to eat was still in his hand--he broke it into halves, offering one to her. "Take pity on me. I hate eating alone."
The small, quiet giggle that bubbled out of her eased some of his worry. "Well... Okay."
She took the apple fritter from his hand and followed him to the island, where they sat across from each other. She broke off a piece, taking a bite before looking up and asking, "What's got you up so late?"
He shrugged. Guilt was the honest answer. The weight of the lies made it hard to sleep sometimes. "Just can't sleep."
She nodded, attention falling back to her food.
"You're sure you don't want to talk about it?" he prompted, earning her gaze again. Those big blue eyes were still damp and he wanted to know why, wanted to see if he could do anything about it.
She bit her lip and looked down with a shrug. He waited her out--and when she finally spoke, her voice was hardly more than a whisper. "Nobody paid any attention to me."
His brow furrowed. "Kenzie?" His sister wasn't the type to leave a friend feeling left out--at least not intentionally. If she'd made Annie feel bad, he knew it wasn't on purpose.
Annie looked up, head tilting to the side. "What?" After a beat, she was smiling, laughing. "Oh, no. I should have phrased that differently. What I mean is..." She sighed, taking another small bite of the pastry. "Guys wanted to buy Kenzie drinks. Wanted to dance with Layla. Wanted to talk to Gabriela. And me... not so much. Not at all."
The pain that seared his chest felt like fire. How what she was saying was possible, he didn't understand. What he wouldn't have given to be some carefree guy on a night out, lucky enough to cross paths with the woman in front of him. If he could have traded places with one of them just for one night...just one night in a normal body to talk to her, flirt with her, to make her feel as beautiful as she was.
"And I feel terrible for even noticing it, is the thing. The night was about Kenzie. And I had fun. But it hurts to watch everyone else have to practically beat men away with a stick, while I don't even get a second glance."
"Annie." He wished he had the confidence to reach for her hand. "You deserve a lot more than a second glance from some drunk guy at a nightclub."
As she took the last bite of her pastry, she gave him a small smile that was more sadness than anything else. "Maybe," she spoke after a beat. She stood, continuing, "Maybe not. Either way, I don't think I'm ever going to get it."
It was clear she took the compliment for everything but her looks. What a wonder it was to him, that she could be so unbelievably beautiful and equally as insecure, completely oblivious to the yearning she stirred inside of him. If she knew, would it mean even half as much as the attention of someone she actually desired? Or would it just make her uncomfortable?
"Thanks for..." She shrugged. "Listening. I should get to sleep--Kenzie's taking us all to the salon tomorrow so we can decide on hairstyles. I'll see you at breakfast?"
"Yeah." He nodded, wishing desperately that he knew what he could say to ease her pain. "Night."
"Goodnight." She peered around him. "Goodnight, Fritters."
He let her go with a small wave, heart heavy. Even before the accident, he wouldn't have thought he deserved her. But he would have tried, damn it. He would have.
There was something that just seemed to work with them. Beneath all the unrequited pining, there was an ease. A comfort. More than the insecurity, the thing that kept him from trying to capture it was the knowledge that he didn't deserve it. That even if she somehow could look past the scars, there was still so much she didn't know. Things that he couldn't ask her, or anyone, to forgive.
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sorry this weeks chapter is so short compared to usual! 🥲 and happy super bowl sunday!
I'm amusing myself by thinking about which of the characters in this series would watch the game, and which couldn't care less 😆 Kenzie and Marshall would host a super bowl party every year once settled into their new house, and Adam definitely is a sports guy who watches every game. But then on the opposite end of the spectrum there's Jack, who doesn't even know who's playing until Kenzie somehow convinces him to come to the party lol 🤭 Dawson and Layla are both casual football fans, whereas Cliff is more of a hockey guy. And Annie and Gabby don't really watch sports, but they look forward to the party every year anyways 😌 Maybe I'll have to integrate all this randomness into one of the future books lol 😅
