Fragile(39)
Author: M. Leighton

“You have a girlfriend and—”

“No, I don’t. Cheyenne and I broke up.”

“So you weren’t with her tonight?”

Hardy’s mouth worked itself open and closed several times like a fish out of water.

“That wasn’t my idea. It was my father’s.”

“So you were with her?”

“Yes. My dad invited her to the lake house for the weekend. He wants us to get back together.”

“But you don’t?”

“No!” Hardy cringed.

“Then why not just say so?”

“I’ve told them—both of them—that we aren’t getting back together.”

“And yet your father still invited her.”

“Yes, but…” Hardy could tell Miracle was dubious as she started to walk again. It sounded suspicious, even to him. “My father doesn’t listen to me. He doesn’t care what I want. He just does what he thinks is best.”

“Have you talked to him about it? I mean, really talked to him?”

Hardy laughed bitterly. “No. You don’t talk to Wayne Bradford that way.”

“He didn’t seem like such a bad guy.”

“You just don’t know him.”

Miracle stopped and looked up at Hardy again. Her eyes searched his. He thought he could practically see the wheels of her intuition turning. She was putting it all together.

When she’d finally drawn her own conclusions, a look of sadness slid into place over her features. She put her hand on his arm. “You’re afraid of him,”

“Not anymore.”

“Then what are you afraid of?”

“He doesn’t pick on me so much anymore, but my mother and my brother…well, it’s just best not to make him angry.”

When she’d digested what he’d said, once she fully understood the implications, she gasped. “Ohmigod, Hardy!” Moving forward, Miracle rose onto her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck.

Hardy had long since come to terms with having an abusive father, but never in all the years that he had been abused had he encountered such sympathy. Miracle’s reaction so warmed him, he wound his arms around her waist and pulled her close, melting into her compassion like an ice cube on hot pavement.

“It’s not that bad anymore. For the most part, he stopped getting physical when I outgrew him,” Hardy mumbled into the skin of Miracle’s neck. He licked his lips; he could taste the slightly salty tang of her skin.

Miracle leaned back to meet his eyes. “Wait a minute. You said you were spending the weekend at the lake house. So you left Cheyenne and your father in the middle of the night and drove all the way back here?”

Hardy nodded, hoping she couldn’t see the blood he felt filling his cheeks. When put like that, it made him sound like a lovesick stalker.

There’s that word again, he thought in exasperation.

“For me?” she added softly, her eyes searching his face.

Again, he nodded.

Miracle didn’t say anything for the longest time. Hardy began to wonder if maybe he’d freaked her out a little. But when she did finally speak, all his misgivings were erased.

“How can you make me feel this way? I barely know you.”

Hardy’s heart beat so hard, he thought it might burst from his chest. “I don’t know, but you do the same thing to me.”

“So what are we supposed to do about it?”

Hardy hated to bring it up, but he had to know. “I know what I want, but what about you? What about Jonah?”

“Jonah’s just a friend. Well, at least that’s how I feel about him. I think he’s just feeling guilty.”

“Guilty?”

“Yeah, for buckling under the pressure.”

“Pressure?”

“You know, the whole sick girlfriend thing. Must run away quickly,” Miracle added in an attempt at levity. She tried to look unaffected, but the way she cast her eyes down was a dead giveaway. Hardy could tell it bothered her.

“I can’t imagine anyone running away from you for any reason.”

“Not yet maybe.”

“Not ever.”

“You say that now…”

“Give me a chance, Miracle. I’ll prove it to you.”

“Nobody deserves all the baggage I come with, Hardy. I should be the one running away from you.”

“I’d just follow you.”

Miracle laughed, but then looked at him oddly. “Why do I get the feeling you might be telling the truth?”

“Because I am.”

Miracle’s expression sobered, as if at the thought of something unpleasant, then cleared seconds later and she smiled again. “Let’s walk,” she suggested, slithering out of Hardy’s arms and reaching for his hand.

They walked the path along the river, holding hands and talking for hours. When they’d made the return trip, they stopped and sat in a patch of clover in the field near Miracle’s neighborhood. It wasn’t until Hardy was admiring the way the rising sun illuminated her alabaster skin that he realized what time it was.

“As much as I hate to, I’m gonna have to go.”

Miracle frowned. “Do you think he’ll find out you’ve been gone?”

Hardy shrugged. “Nah, I don’t see how he could. He should still be asleep by the time I get back.”

“Then you’d better go,” she said, rising to her feet and brushing off the seat of her pants.

“Can I see you Sunday night?”

Hardy hated the thought of not seeing her until then, but it would make the weekend more bearable if he had that to look forward to.

Miracle smiled brightly. “Sure.”

They made their way back to the road and down the street to Miracle’s house. Hardy stopped at the curb and turned toward her, his stomach swimming with anticipation.

“Sorry I kept you up all night,” Hardy confessed sheepishly.

Miracle giggled. “No, you’re not.”

Hardy grinned. “Okay, maybe I’m not that sorry.”

“Actually, I’m kinda glad you did.”

Reaching forward, Hardy pulled a clover from Miracle’s hair and handed it to her. “I guess it’s never too late to bring you flowers.”

Miracle gave an exaggerated gasp, her eyes rounding as she took the tiny stem from Hardy’s fingers. “Oh, they’re…um, I mean it’s beautiful,” she teased.

“I went to a lot of trouble to get you that flower. Don’t make fun,” he responded in mock seriousness.