There was so much pain and fear in her voice, and her shoulders curled slightly into her chest. Cade shifted protectively, and although I had no clue what she was talking about, I realized that whatever this was, it was big. “GBS?”
“Guillain-Barre Syndrome,” she clarified, looking away. “It’s a disorder that affects the nervous system. It’s rare. No one really ever talks about it or even knows how or why some people get it. But it’s not contagious or anything. I was in and out of the hospital and rehab for the last year…” She shook her head and formed a tight smile. “But I’m fine now.”
Cade scoffed. “I’d say it’s a little more than that, CC.”
Peyton nailed him with a glare. “Fine. So I’m not exactly completely healed, but I will be.”
Her chin tipped up, as if she was daring either of us to disagree. I for sure as hell wasn’t. Her shoulders were squared, her back straight, and I figured she could do just about anything she wanted to. She stepped up beside me, that sunny smile struggling for a comeback even though it didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Want to come see my room?”
It was obvious there was a lot she was leaving out, parts of this disease that were still messing with her, and I wanted to know. God help me, I wanted to ask more and be this girl’s protector. But then she took my hand again, clutching it almost desperately, and I found another way to do exactly that.
Then Cade made a noise in his throat, and when I looked over, I found him staring hard at our linked hands. Call me a dick, but that made my entire day. Win-win.
“Sure thing, pretty girl,” I replied and watched as a genuine smile, one that did reach her eyes, curved her mouth. The expression of complete gratitude trumped any scowl Cade could’ve thrown my way.
Peyton wrapped her other hand around my elbow and said, “See ya later, Cade.”
As she led me out the barn, I couldn’t help but glance back. “Yeah, later, Cade.”
His gaze met mine and I smirked.
THURSDAY, MAY 22ND
2 Weeks until Graduation
?Senior Year
JUSTIN
SWEET SERENITY RANCH 5:20 P.M.
Stepping foot on Peyton’s ranch is like coming home again. Well, coming home if you live in the Old West, wear giant belt buckles to dinner, or, you know, have people who actually want you there.
Welcome or not though, I close my eyes and breathe deep. The earthy scent of kicked-up dust, sweet hay, and faint manure fills my head and I lean back against my Jeep, my knees suddenly weak. It’s crazy that this place, more than the clean, sanitary, Pine-sol scented structure I’ve lived in my entire life, makes me feel like this—content and happy, like a puzzle piece finally locking in.
Peyton’s ranch is the only spot in the world—other than the baseball diamond—that I’ve ever felt like I belonged. Where I’m welcomed, just as I am, without expectation. It’s like a black-and-white sitcom where moms give hugs and bake apple pies, dads pass the potatoes and ask how your day was, and the girl of your dreams holds your hand beneath the table, a curtain of strawberry blonde hair masking her smile.
No more screw-ups, Carter.
Dinner at Carmela’s was a shitastic disaster. I got cocky and threw it all out there too soon, banking on the old Peyton sitting across from me, the one who was shy and unsure at times but always went after what she wanted. She was fearless because she had to be.
That wasn’t the girl who showed up to the restaurant.
This new Peyton is skittish, like one of the wary horses in her barn. At least around me. To even have a shot at winning her back, I’ll have to stick with the game plan from here on out. Take things slow, start with being her friend, and not push whenever we work together on the project. That’s what I’ve been trying to do since the dinner. I’ve got her sitting next to me in class, meeting me in study hall, even emailing the paper back and forth, and that’s a hell of a step from where we were a week ago. Now I just need to prove that she can trust me again.
Like that’ll ever happen.
As I kick myself yet again over my appallingly poor choices in the past, the musical notes of Peyton’s laugh float toward me on the wind. I turn away from the paddock and find her standing on the porch of the doghouse, her head tipped back with a smile bigger than Texas on her face. That’s the Peyton I remember. A grin makes its way to my mouth before my gaze shifts and I discover the reason for that smile. Cade is right beside her, an expression of pure reverence on his face, watching her like he’s freaking king of the world.
I can’t even blame him. I used to look the same way whenever I made her laugh like that. But seeing her hand on his chest and the smile she used to send me directed at him almost makes me lose it. And when his arm slides around her waist, tugging her close, I finally do.
Slam.
Peyton’s eyes snap to mine as my closing door echoes across the field. Cade turns, too, and when his eyes meet mine, that King of the World expression turns to complete and total loathing.