Every Breath (3 page)

“I’m not following.” I looked at him like he’d lost his mind. I mean, he was seriously hot, but I was certainly questioning his sanity at that moment.

“It’s simple, really. You see, I told her that there is this insanely gorgeous girl that I’d beg, borrow, and steal for, just to dance with her one time. So after I
begged
her to drop the class and promised to let her
borrow
my car later, I now have the chance to
steal
that dance.”

And for the rest of the semester, he was my dance partner . . . and my boyfriend. There wasn’t ever one awkward moment where I was nervous or didn’t know how to act around him. He had this good-natured personality that made him so easy to talk to. That is, if we could stop laughing long enough to talk . . . or stop kissing.

Drew tapping softly on my shoulder pulls me from my memories. “We’re here.”

I am completely and irrevocably in love . . . with Drew’s house. When I was a little girl, I dreamed of having a home like this one day. Enormous windows cover nearly every space on the façade, allowing me to literally see right through to the bay on the other side. Iron railings stretch across both the front porch and balcony, which wrap completely around the house. It’s elegant, but simple. It’s stunning.

“How is it even possible that this is your house?” I have to ask. I mean, this place is not befitting of a football coach. I almost expected a dirty, dumpy little shack.

Drew fumbles with his keys until he finds the right one. “Oh, I can’t take all of the credit. My grandfather built most of the homes in this area, and this one was my grandmother’s thirtieth wedding anniversary present. I was the only grandchild, so when they decided it was too much for them to keep up, I bought it from them. But, honestly, I think I always knew I’d end up here.”

He opens the front door and ushers me inside, stopping to kick off his shoes. “This is my second favorite room.”

“Only your second favorite?” I laugh as I follow him around the room. The floor plan is open, revealing the living room, kitchen, and dining area all in one massive space. Between the living room and kitchen is a gorgeous rock fireplace that towers all the way up to the honey-colored wood beams stretching across the ceiling.

“We may need to wait a while before you see my absolute favorite.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, uh, I don’t typically take women into my bedroom except for . . .” A silly grin spreads across his mouth.

Oh.

What do I even say to that? I have no response other than to stare at him with my mouth hanging partially open, begging for something remotely clever to say.

Out of nowhere, Drew’s laughter booms through the room. “The look you just had on your face reminded me of a poor, little mouse that had been backed into a corner by a cat. I was only kidding. The only woman that’s ever been in that room is my mom when she insisted on helping me decorate. Come on, I’ll show you.” He winks and grabs my hand, dragging me up a glossy set of wood stairs and down a short hallway.

He opens the first door to the right, but I can hardly see anything until he moves across the room and begins opening a series of French doors. Three sets of doors, to be exact. The entire back wall of his monstrosity of a bedroom is now open to the balcony with a breathtaking view of the bay. The sun melting into the horizon fills the room with warm copper tones, and the brackish breeze gently brushes my hair around my face.

On one side of the room, a worn, oversized leather chair draped with a navy blue quilt faces the open doors. In front of the chair, a matching ottoman holds a pair of glasses and a stack of magazines. A four-post king-sized bed facing the balcony is covered in a fluffy white comforter and an assortment of throw pillows in various shades of blue. It looks so soft and inviting that I have a nearly uncontrollable urge to climb in and curl up with a book.

Almost seeming to read my mind, Drew smirks and rubs at the stubble on his cheek. “Well, what do you think?”

“I . . . uh . . . It’s incredible. It would be my favorite, too.”

He steps forward and brushes a wayward strand of hair from my eyes. “I think whatever room you’re in is my favorite.”

I look up into his molten chocolate eyes as his fingers comb all the way through my hair.

“We’d better go back downstairs and eat.”

I have trouble convincing any words to come out of my mouth. “Okay,” I squeak before he takes my hand and leads me out.

This is just too strange to me. I’m battling with so many emotions right now; I don’t know what to think. All at once, I’m confused, scared, and nervous, and I can’t seem to shake this nagging sensation that I’m betraying Shane. But at the same time, I find myself wanting this night to never end. Whenever Drew looks at me, I feel beautiful, and I can tell by his cryptic words that he would like to do more than just cook dinner for me. I feel like I’m on his dessert menu. Even though that freaks me out a little, I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed that sense of attraction.

I follow him downstairs and out onto the deck, where he has a stunningly decorated table, complete with a crisp white tablecloth with matching
real
napkins, gorgeous ivory china, flickering candles, and a chilling bottle of wine. The part that strikes me as a little odd is the crystal vase filled with gladioluses, which is one of my favorite flowers. Most men would pick roses or a more generic flower like daisies or carnations. The only thing that would have made it stranger is if he’d picked lilacs—my absolute favorite.

“Wow. Just . . . wow.” I turn to look up at Drew, who is standing beside me. “This is getting creepy, you know.”

His brows furrow deeply, and he swallows hard. “I’m sorry if this is too much. I was just trying to do something nice for you. Like I said before, we don’t have to eat here. There’s a restaurant close by. Do you want to leave? I—”

I place my hand on his arm to stop him, pressing my lips tight and trying hard not to laugh at him. “Drew, no. It’s perfect. It’s just . . . first, you knew how I liked my coffee, and now, the gladioluses. How do you know these things?”

“Oh, uh, honestly?”

“Always.”

Drew pulls a chair out to help me get seated before he moves to the other side of the table and does the same. “Do you remember the very first faculty meeting, right after you were hired last year?”

“Of course. I was a nervous wreck having to meet all of those people.”

He leans forward on his elbows. “I hope this doesn’t sound bad, but I watched you. From the moment you walked into the room until you left at the end of the day. I watched you make your coffee, slowing adding everything together until it was just right. I noticed how every time you were introduced to someone new, you bit your lip. I saw how you doodled on the handouts they gave us whenever they were going through presentations. And I also watched you pull a gladiolus from the table centerpiece after nearly everyone left, and you pressed it to your nose and closed your eyes while you smelled it. I couldn’t help watching you.”

I sit back in my seat. He’s right. All of that really happened. “Why?”

“Why? Are you kidding? You’re beautiful, Makenna. Hell, every man in that room noticed you.” Drew rubs his hand over his face. “I’ve even made unnecessary trips over to the elementary school just to have the chance to bump into you.”

My mouth just hangs open. I have seen him at the school quite a bit, but until now, I didn’t realize how strange it was for a high school football coach to be there all the time. “The day you came to sell me a raffle ticket for the football fundraiser?”

He laughs deeply and covers his eyes for a moment. “You’re the only person I sold one to.”

“How did I have absolutely no idea?” But I knew the answer to my question. I wasn’t
ready
to see it. I wasn’t ready to realize that someone was attracted to me. Am I ready now?

Drew stands and walks around the table, gently placing his hand on my shoulder. “You were completely blinded by my charm?”

“That must be it.”

He winks. “I’ll be right back with dinner.”

In his absence, I stare out at the fading sunset on the bay’s horizon, now only a horizontal sliver of luminescence radiating its glowing fingers upward into the wisps of clouds stretching across the deepening blue atmosphere. I surrender to the purity and simplicity of the gentle waves lapping at the shore and the briny scent tickling my nose. The immediate calm floods deep into my soul, allowing me to think clearly for the first time tonight.

I’m not sure how I never noticed Drew’s surreptitious advances, and I’m still not certain how I feel about it. About all of this, for that matter. I’ve waited all this time for this imaginary weight to be lifted off of me, for me to finally feel ready to move on after Shane’s death, but I don’t recall that happening. So how have I fallen back into this so easily?

Everything tonight has been surprisingly effortless. Being with Drew is definitely nerve-wracking, but in an omigosh-he-just-touched-me kind of way. And to be completely honest, I’m a little disappointed in the fact that I’ve tucked away the years of mourning Shane so easily. Maybe the weight
has
lifted a little.

Drew finally returns with two steaming plates filled with juicy pot roast, herbed potatoes, and roasted broccoli. “Hope you’re hungry. I got a little carried away with the portion sizes.”

“I am, actually.”

Halfway through our meal, my cell phone chirps at me, indicating a text message. I don’t even have to look at it to know who it is. “Sorry, Drew. Let me see what Callie is wanting.”

“No problem at all. Tell her I say ‘hello.’”

Callie: ‘Mak! How’s it going? Has Coach Hot Stuff kissed u yet?’

Me: ‘Jeez, Cal, no. He says hi.’

Callie: ‘Back at him. Just tell me one thing. Do u want him to?’

Me: ‘I’ll call you later.’

Callie: ‘OMG! U do! U better freaking call me later. <3 u!’

I shove my phone back into my purse, and I can feel the heat of the redness rising in my cheeks.
Do
I want to kiss him? “She says ‘back at you.’”

He narrows his eyes and smirks. “What else did she say?”

“Just checking up on me.”

He pulls his own cell phone from his lap to show me the screen. “Was it anything like the messages she sent me?”

Callie Baxter: ‘Please tell me u kissed her already.’

Drew: ‘Not YET. Probably not tonight. Don’t want to freak her out.’

Callie Baxter: ‘Why r u so damn noble? Just DO IT!’

Drew: ‘Maybe.’

I slap my hands over my face. “Yes, very similar.” She’s now on my hit list for the second time today.

Before I can register the sound of a chair scraping the wood decking, I feel Drew’s hands on mine, pulling them away from my face. “Don’t be embarrassed, and don’t be afraid of me. Ever. God knows, I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you bite your lip when we met a year ago, but it won’t happen until I know you’re ready. And it won’t be because Callie thinks we should or even because
I
think we should. That rests in your hands alone. This is our first date, and you barely know me. We’ll take things as slow as you want.”

Without meaning to, I sigh out loud. While he kneels beside me, Drew’s dark gaze remains focused on mine. Searching, as if he’s trying to look directly into my mind to see what I’m thinking. “Thank you. I’m still trying to figure all of this out. I don’t think I even know how to behave on a date anymore.”

He squeezes my hands, still maintaining his hold. “Trust me. You’re doing fine.”

Wow. He really is noble. And his honesty and openness about all of this make me want to be open with him, too. I want to tell him about Shane, but I’m not ready yet.

After we finish eating, we move over to a porch swing at the edge of the deck in front of a small fire pit. We talk for hours about the school, his short football career, and our families. I’m enjoying every single moment: the rhythmic sway of the swing, the crackling of the fire, and Drew’s smooth baritone voice. It’s surreal and unexpected and perfect.

He doesn’t take my hand again, but he does have his arm behind me on the back of the swing and occasionally twirls my hair around his finger or grazes his fingertip across my shoulder while he talks. He really is sticking to his word about not pushing anything out of my comfort zone, and I’m grateful. And a little freaked out that I’m also a tad disappointed. What is wrong with me?

Drew glances at his watch and jumps to his feet. “Uh oh. I told Callie that I’d have you home by midnight.”

“And . . .”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning.” He shrugs and smiles sheepishly.

“Seriously?” I get to my feet and rush over to where I left my phone on the table—with the ringer turned off.

Eight texts. Six missed calls.

‘Ok babe, it’s 11:30. R u thinking about a goodnight kiss? ;)’

‘It’s 11:57. Can’t wait to hear how it went!’

‘Call me. I’m ready for the juicy details.’

‘Seriously, Mak?’

‘U r an hour late! Why aren’t u calling me?’

‘Why aren’t u answering me? Did I make u mad earlier?’

‘OMG! I’m sorry. Would u answer or call or something. Please?’

‘I’m at your house. Almost 3 hrs late, Mak. If I knew where Coach Gorgeous lived, I’d go there and kick both of your asses.’

“Ouch, she’s mad, huh?” Drew looks up from his phone. “She’s been texting you, too?”

“Yeah. What did she say to you?”

He shakes his head and crams his phone into his pocket. “You really don’t want to know this time.”

By the time Drew pulls into my driveway, we’ve both received four more texts from Callie, and she flies out of the house as soon as the truck tires hit my driveway.