I glance to my girl and see her eyes widen. I give her hand a squeeze like, it’s okay. I know you’re into me. Now.
Her nostrils flare, but still Bethany says nothing. Tony’s just as angry as he is shocked. Spitting with confusion as the pieces fall into place he stammers, “You hurt my boy on purpose, because what…you were jealous? Or are you just a vindictive bitch!”
“Tony,” she whispers.
“Don’t say my name! You hurt my boy, and that means you hurt my team.” He steps back like she’s lethal. “We almost didn’t make the play-offs because of you!”
Her mouth drops open, eyes wide as they dart around.
Furious, Wren’s voice is a tremor of self-control. “You need to leave. Don’t come back.”
Tony cuts me off from agreeing, his finger shooting out. “Get the fuck out of here. I can’t even look at you.”
She blinks and sputters, “My jacket’s inside.”
He flips around and whips the door open with all the violence he wants to use on her. With us alone she stares at the ground.
Wren asks, “Why’d you do it?”
“I don’t know.”
On a grunt I tell her, “You’ll have a lot of time to figure it out. You’re lucky we did this in private. You have Wren to thank for that.” Bending my knees to engage her eyes, I demand to know, “You hear me?”
Bethany nods just as Tony explodes out the door, thrusting her jacket at her. He’s so pissed he doesn’t trust himself to talk. She takes it, keeping her head down and hurrying to the parking lot. We start to go in, but Wren tugs on my arm. “Hold on, Eric.” She calls out, “Bethany, we’re going to wait out here ’til you get in your car, safely.”
The girl who nearly broke our hearts with a few well-chosen, hideous lies, glances over her shoulder, surprised. She nods to Wren, woman to woman.
Tony and I exchange a look, neither of us would have done that. The three of us step out into the quiet street when a bend makes Bethany vanish. We catch sight of her again, watch until she climbs in and the engine starts, lights cutting through the shadows of a wintery night.
As we walk inside, Wren stares off into the distance of her own thoughts. “One in three women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime. But not if I can help it.”
CHAPTER 41
WREN
With bright green, flowering trees on all sides, the Jeep slows to grab the parking pass. “So I only get one guest pass a year and I’m using it on you. Feel special, Sweet Tits.”
“Please never call me that adorable nickname in front of my mother.”
“What’s that?” he asks, snatching the ticket and driving forward. “Tell your mom I like sucking on your sugary breasts? Is that what you said?”
“That is the opposite of what I said.”
“Write a letter to her, a proclamation of my adoration for your tasty nipples, you ask?”
“No. Never do that.”
“Hire a sky writer to fly over your Mom’s house telling her that I love fucking her only daughter?”
“Her only child, get it right. There are no others. I am the only…and the best.”
He laughs and pulls into a parking spot, hopping out of the car. The doors are gone since it’s springtime, so I jump down, too.
“Hey!” he objects.
“I don’t need help out of your damn Jeep, Eric.”
Grumbling to himself, “I’m screwing the doors back on if you do that again,” he laces our fingers together and brightens up. “Speaking of moms, this is where mine and my dad had one of their first dates.”
Interest piqued, I glance at his handsome profile. “They came here?”
“Yeah, with my Uncles.”
“Which ones?”
“The twins.”
“Jason and Justin? Why? Is your mother that wild that your father needed two chaperones?”
“If anyone in my family heard you say that, they’d think it was fucking hilarious.” Pulling out his membership card and the paper guest pass, he slides them through the little gap under the ticket-window. “How you doing?”
The volunteer smiles back, “Beautiful day!” as she scans them and hands his card back. “Enjoy yourselves. Be sure to check out the orchids.”
“Oh, we will,” he grins. “You have a great day now.”
“Thank you!”
Proudly he leads me into the entrance. There are folded maps tucked into a silver display on the first floor and bathrooms upstairs to our left. Glass walls ahead give visitors a peek at the majestic beauty waiting for them. For us.
Another volunteer waits by folded paper maps, hands clasped in front of her uniform. “Welcome to Atlanta’s Botanical Gardens. Have you been here before?”
Eric proudly informs her, “I’m a lifelong member, but it’s my girlfriend’s first time.”
“Oh how nice,” she smiles, having no clue how much this means to me.
Eric hooks his arm around my waist, “You ready?”
We walk out into what can only be called an oasis, a feast for my soul, flora and fauna carefully selected in an artful design of pathways and bridges. I’m speechless as we start the adventure, birds singing high in the trees, rainbows of butterflies landing inches from us. The air smells so fresh and crisp that I wish they could bottle it so I could bring it back to my house and only breathe this air.
“I can’t believe it’s always been right here my whole life, and I never came,” I whisper, wide eyes and heart open.
“I’m glad your first time is with me.”
“Yeah?”
“Makes me feel like it’s mine.”
He takes my hand and we stroll around, him pointing out plants he likes and telling me what he knows about them. We go under a tiled passage and Eric pauses to kiss me, backing me against a wall as my arms slip around his neck. His eyes shine as he gazes down at me.
