Andrew Walker was unconscious. Or at least I thought he was. I had been too afraid to check. Instead I bolted into the back office where they kept medical equipment, shedding my boxing gloves as I ran, before making a mad dash back for the ring, arms full of everything I could find that might be remotely helpful.
Dumping my medical hoard on the ground, I sucked in a breath when I found blood trickling down the side of Andrew's face from a smal cut along his cheekbone.
This day just keeps getting better and better. Em really was right about me making a great piece of for a gossip column. I could keep that girl well fed for YEARS to come.
Crouching down, my hands shook as wiped away the evidence of my crime, covering the cut it in a blue bandaid before placing an ice pack across his cheek with shaky fingers. The cut was small, but shedding his blood left me drowning in a sea of guilt.
What is wrong with me? Why'd I have to get so freaked out? Why did I hit him so hard? We were just playing...
"I'm so sorry Andrew," I murmured, pushing away several hairstrands that had gotten caught under the ice pack. "Please be okay."
"I've been better."
His eyes ocean eyes fluttered open and I could have cried with relief at the sight of them. He was awake. He was breathing. He wasn't lying unconscious on the ground because I had smashed my fist into his face. But instead of crying with thankfulness, or throwing my arms around him, overjoyed that I hadn't destroyed the Single Stud from the dating show I was currently undercover on, all I managed was.... "WHY DIDN'T YOU BLOCK ME?!?" I shouted in a panicked demand.
He winced at my decibel. "You caught me off guard." His eyes finally focused and he blinked up at me, eyes glistening like the sun had just sparkled across their surface. "That is some mean right hook you have there." I could have sworn he looked impressed.
I wasn't sure what to say to that. I had expected him to be furious, or at least be in need of medical attention. Maybe that was why he wasn't mad, I had broken his brain.
Andrew sat up in the center of the ring, staring up at me, actually impressed, leaving me feeling a mixture of pride and embarrassment as I hovered over him, handing him the ice pack to hold over his own face. "I'm sorry... coming here wasn't the best idea."
Andrew smiled, wincing against the ice pack. "Are you kidding? Besides the last moment where you totally demolished me, I'd say this date has been a knock out... of the park."
I snorted, utterly surprised. "Did you just make a pun out of your injury? Maybe I should take you to get your head checked."
"I'm fine. And seriously, this was great. Completely worth the bruise." He smiled, his whole face lighting up, a set of dimples flashing for an instant, transforming his face before he winced against the pain across his cheek. Then his dimples tucked themselves away again leaving me wanting to rediscover them.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, proud of sticking to my choice to come to such a strange place for a date.
For once, being myself hadn't been too much for someone. And it left me feeling more breathless than the match. I cleared my throat, settling down next to him to inspect the bruise. Removing the ice pack, my fingers brushed his skin and his eyes fluttered closed, brows pinching together. He looked unsteady as his hand suddenly trapped mine against his face.
Andrew opened his eyes, his gaze dark, and the look on his face left me breathless for a whole other reason. "I really am sorry, Andrew," I said quietly. "That hit was uncalled for."
He smiled, fingers wrapping around mine. "I am surprised it took you so long to knock me out. I figure I had it coming ever since I tried talking to you at four o'clock in the morning at that coffee shop. You've been itching to punch me ever since that night."
"That was pretty stupid of you," I agreed. "No one should be starting conversations with me at such an idiotic hour."
"I would do quite a few more stupid things if it gave me the chance to get to know you better. But I think for the sake of my face, we should call it a game. You win. Two points to one."
He let my hand go, and I managed to scoot away enough to gain my sanity back, giving him an approving nod. "Not bad Coffee Guy," I said with a tired smile. "I have to admit I had no idea you could move like that."
"That makes two of us. You are a fearsome sight to behold, Delle."
I laughed. That wasn't new. I had been called a lot worse. "Scary?"
He shook his head. "Beautiful."
I leaned back on my elbows and raised a brow. "Empty flirting will not get you out of answering my next question."
"It isn't empty flirting if it's true. And I don't expect to," he said, completely serious. "I am now fully aware of how much damage you can do if I don't cooperate."
Shaking my head, I looked away, fighting a smile. He should be terrified of me... Or at least mad at me. But he's turning it all into a joke... Not sure how to process this.
"I only get one question, so I guess I better make it a good one." Andrew tilted his head, drinking me in. "What to pick... what to pick," he said when I shot him a warning glare.
What will he ask? What secret will I have to give up? What part of my life will I have to reveal? Will I have to lie? I really didn't think he had it in him to fight like that! It wasn't listed as a hobby on his file... but maybe the show didn't include it because it's not considered a sexy hobby— psh. That's crazy! Fighting is totally a sexy hobby!
"Enjoy your scrap of victory," I muttered crossing my arms as I flopped down on the ground and gazed at the ceiling, avoiding looking at the sexy man with a sexy hobby. Stupid Sexy Coffee Guy who can take a punch and still smile at me with stupid sexy dimples afterwards...
"Oh, I will," he said with a laugh. The sound of his laughter breathed light into the room. A banner of sunshine that came after a rainstorm, glistening across everything it touched.
I closed my eyes, soaking it in. If I could just bottle that laugh, it could light the darkest parts of me.
"You act like sharing is a form of torture."
I snorted, tracing the cracks in the ceiling with my gaze. "It might as well be. People use knowledge as a weapon. They collect memories of your weaknesses, your hurts and tuck them away to hurt you with it later."
If I had just been stronger when I was younger, been unbreakable, then my family would have gotten far less hurt. If I had been a less obvious target, others wouldn't have gotten themselves broken. Allie had been taken away, sent to juvie for months because I hadn't been strong enough to fight my own battles. And she will always carry that pain because of me.
Faults were used as targets for other's emotional battering practice. I shut my eyes, tucking away memories, organizing the images that fluttered out from their dark hiding places.
"I'm sorry," Andrew whispered, shattering the process.
I opened my eyes to find a pair of ocean storm eyes looking down at me, from where I continued to lay on the ground, my fingers digging into my arms like a life line. I hadn't even realized that I was burrowing my nails into my skin. The pain unnoticed compared to the ache in my chest, a searing echo from past wounds, still not fully healed. A flesh wound had not bearing on a broken heart.
Andrew sat above me, mirroring the pain he saw in my eyes. "I'm sorry that people have hurt you enough to leave you afraid to share who you are."
He traced his fingers along my cheek, and it was only then that I realized that a tear had traitorously sneaked free from its cage and been snatched by Andrew, betraying any lie that I was okay, that I had never been hurt. That I was anything but whole.
I wiped angrily at my cheek, sitting up. "It's life," I said with a shrug.
Andrew was quiet for a moment, allowing me a moment to collect the pieces of my past and tuck them away again. Pretending he hadn't just seen a hint of me before I learned to be brave. Before I learned to fight. Before I had grown sharp, and hard, and all rough edges. Andrew had pretended to not see the part of me that scared me to my core. The part of me that had once been all smiles, and soft, and sunshine. He had just show me a kindness that I hadn't expected and it made me trust him all the more for it.
The moment passed and I found my footing again before he nudged us back into conversation. "Did you always want to be a poker player?"
I raised a brow, surprised by his question. "That's what you want to ask?"
He nodded, face serious. "You are really good at reading people, at hiding your tells, but..." Andrew shrugged before leaning his cheek on his palm, eyes narrowing as he searched my face. "Something tells me that poker isn't really a job you picked for yourself."
I could have laughed at how accurate the observation was. It was as close to "YOU ARE AN IMPOSTER," as I ever wanted him to get. And if I wanted him to trust me, I knew that truth was what I needed to give him. Decker had suggested as much, but telling the truth was just like handing someone a knife and begging them not to stab you with it. It required a level of trust that I wasn't accustomed to.
"I can't tell you."
His laugh was hollow, a flash of irritation crossing his face. "I take a shiner to the face and I still can't get a straight answer out of you."
I stood up and sighed. "I didn't say I wouldn't answer. I just... have to show you. Do you want to visit the hospital first? I did hit you pretty hard."
Andrew shook his head. "I'll be fine. I'll just slap on some television makeup. This isn't the first time I've had to cover up a fight for cameras. It comes with the hobby.... And the family."
I glanced towards the door. "Let's get moving then, I'd prefer to get my handy work covered up before the cameras find us."
Andrew shot me a mischievous grin. "Most girls leave hickeys. I have to say... this is the first time I've had to cover a punch to the face from a date."
"I promise not to make a habit of it."
"The hickeys or the punches?" Andrew asked in a teasing tone.
"Both," I replied dryly. "Come on. The faster we get that covered up, the faster I'll answer your question." I reached for his hand to help him up. "But you have to promise not to laugh."
He looked from my hand, to me with a curious expression. "You haven't given me a reason to laugh at you. I can't expect you telling me what your dreams were to be a funny topic."
I looked away, clenching my jaw. "Well you might change your mind after you learn what I wanted to be when I grew up."
He took my hand and pulled himself up. "I won't laugh at you."
I nodded. "Good. Because if you do. I'll give you a matching shiner."
----
Thank you for reading chapter twenty-six! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes! Add this story to your reading list to know when the next chapter drops!
UPDATE DAYS- A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!
What will Delle show Andrew? And how does it connect to what Decker told her to share?
What question will Delle ask of Andrew?
How long do you think they'll be able to keep Andrew's bruise a secret?
What else do you think they will do on their date?
Will the cameramen be able to find them?
CHAPTER QUESTION - If you got to take someone on a date to eat food somewhere, what food would you eat?