Back to Me Page 8

  “Yeah, but without playing, your life would be so different. We might not have met if you never played,” I point out.

  “What are you talking about? We went to the same high school.”

  “Yeah, and it was a huge school. I didn’t know who you were until we went to watch Ashley play.”

  Her jaw drops and her eyes widen. “We had a class together the semester before she joined the team.”

  “No, we didn’t.” Because I would’ve remembered.

  “Yes, we did. We had Mrs. Tuttle for English our sophomore year! You probably didn’t notice because you were too busy shoving your tongue down Kelsey Watson’s throat.”

  Okay, so that’s why I don’t remember. Kelsey Watson and I liked to make out in between classes and Mrs. Tuttle always took a bathroom break before that period, so we had the opportunity. The waitress caught the tail end of what Meredith said because she was walking toward our table. She places our food before us and quietly leaves.

  “Even so, tennis is still how I ended up noticing you.” She doesn’t say anything, but I grin. “So, you paid a lot of attention to me before we met?”

  Meredith rolls her eyes. “Kind of hard to ignore you when you and Kelsey Watson were trying to eat each other’s faces.” I laugh, but immediately stop when she adds, “I think I’m going home.”

  I nearly choke on my chicken. “What?” Panic swarms me at the thought of her walking away again. Why in the hell does she want to leave already? She can’t! I just got her back. No way in hell.

  “For the weekend, Noah. Mom doesn’t know what to pack for me. You’ll be out of town anyway, so I thought I could fly home and pack up my clothes. I’m tired of having to buy new stuff.”

  I take a long gulp of my drink, the panic still clawing at me. Maybe Meredith isn’t the only one with issues. She’s coming back. It’s only for the weekend. Get a fucking grip, Noah! Clearing my throat, I manage a calm voice. “Okay, yeah. That sounds good.”

  She eyes me for a moment like I’m not fooling her, but she doesn’t make a comment. “I’ll probably see if I can get flight out tomorrow since I don’t have to work, and then I’ll come back Sunday night.”

  “Seems like a good plan. Hope is probably anxious to see you and hear more about your job and me,” I finish, flashing her a grin. There’s still an uneasiness about this mini trip, which is ridiculous. I can’t help it. Yeah, I was okay with her leaving before, but she still left. How is it still able to fuck me up when I have her back?

  “Are you okay with this, Noah?” Meredith asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” The waitress drops off our check and I reach into my back pocket for my wallet. “You’re going home for the weekend, and I won’t be here anyway, so it’s no big deal.”

  “All right. Let’s go, so I can change and get to work.”

  I’m paying with cash, so we leave it on the table with the bill. I take her hand as we walk out of the restaurant. Wanting to get us back to normal, I start talking. “Winter can be mild here, so you shouldn’t need anything heavier than a coat or hoodie and maybe some gloves. It won’t start getting cold for a little while, though.”

  “Will it snow?”

  Her question makes me laugh. “If it does, people freak the fuck out. They don’t get it often enough to know how to handle it, I guess. I think ice is more often the case instead of snow.”

  “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’ll miss the snow.”

  “Really?”

  Meredith never really cared for the white fluff, and based on what Hope would tell me, she more often than not spent any time off in the winter months somewhere warm. In fact, I think the longest time she’s spent in the house she owns in Pittsburgh is the months after she returned home to rehab her injury before she came to North Carolina.

  “Yeah, weird, right? It just doesn’t quite feel like the holidays without it. What is Christmas usually like with you since it’s during the season?”

  “We get three days off. Sometimes, I’ll fly home; sometimes, I don’t. This year, I’m going to try with it being my nephew’s first Christmas. We’ll see how it goes.” It’s still September and way too early to be thinking about the holidays.

  We arrive at my apartment, enjoying a comfortable silence as we ride the elevator up to my floor. My brows pull together in confusion when I see a box sitting outside of my door. Meredith rushes toward it, picking it up, and throwing me a smile.

  “What is it?”

  She tries to shrug casually. “Just something I ordered.”

  “Not going to tell me?”

  “Nope.” She heads to the bedroom without looking back.

  My phone vibrates and I check my texts as I take a seat on the couch.

  Marc: I’m bored. Want company?

  Me: Come on.

  “Have fun with Marc.” I tilt my bead back at the sound of Meredith’s voice behind me. She’s standing behind the couch.

  “Have fun at work.”

  She leans down to kiss me. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too, Mere.”

  She smiles and then she’s gone. I’m tempted to find the box to see what she ordered, but decide not to. She didn’t want me to know, so I won’t snoop.

  Marc arrives about thirty minutes later and he starts up my gaming console, handing me a controller. I glare at him, as usual, when he props his feet up on my coffee table. At least he’s learned to remove his shoes first.

  “How’s it going with your hot girlfriend?”

  “Fine.”

  He looks at me. “Fine? That’s the kind of answer you use when someone asks how you are and you aren’t okay, but you don’t want to talk about it, so you say you’re fine. You’re finally with the girl you’ve been wanting for fucking ever and all you can say is things are fine? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I snap. “Things have been great so far. She’s here; we’re happy.”

  “Who knew people could pick up where they left off so easily after what, eight years? Damn, that’s a long time.” When I glare at him, he shrugs. “Fine. I’ll leave it alone. You taking her to Mike’s BBQ?”

  We have a day off next weekend, and head coach Darrell Michaelson, who we call Mike, has invited the entire team to his house for a get-together.

  “If she wants to go, yeah.”

  “Why wouldn’t she want to go?”

  I groan. “Shut the hell up and play the damn game. I didn’t mean she wouldn’t want to; I haven’t said anything about it to her yet is all I meant.”

  Marc whistles. “For someone who’s finally happy, you sure are pissy.”

  The only way to get him to stop talking about it is to ignore him. I don’t know what’s caused my mood to sour, or if it has anything to do with how I’m a little antsy about her leaving this weekend regardless of all the logic in the world, but I do know I don’t want to talk about it.

  “I’m coming back,” I wheeze, barely able to breathe through Noah’s hold on me.

  “I know.” He loosens his hold and I wonder if he thinks I’m lying. He didn’t obsess over me this much when he left earlier this week for games. He leans down for yet another long, slow, deep kiss. If it weren’t for his odd behavior putting me on edge, I’d be too lost in his kiss to pay attention to the time.

  “I’m going to miss my flight, Noah,” I tell him, breaking the kiss.

  He gives me one more quick kiss and releases me. “Let me know when you get there and tell your parents I said hey.”

  “I will.”

  “And you’ll be here when I get home Sunday?”

  “Yep.”

  Noah nods to himself, kisses me one more time, and then I’m finally able to leave. His hovering as I finished up my packing this morning and then our twenty-minute goodbye has me anxious. I get to the airport without any problems. Noah has texted me, wishing me a safe flight. I text him back before texting my mom.

  Me: Flight lands at 11:30. Are
you still picking me up?

  Mom: Sorry, my doctor’s appointment today was changed. Dad is picking you up, but I’ll come over to help you afterward

  Me: Okay, thanks.

  With nothing to do but wait, my mind gets lost in analyzing my time in Raleigh so far. It’s unbelievable to think Noah and I are together again. He welcomed me back with open arms. Things have been really good so far, I think. This is the first time we’ve ever lived together, but we haven’t annoyed each other with any quirks yet. Again, this has been seamless. Well, aside from Noah freaking out when I told him I was coming home for the weekend.

  Work has been good. Mostly because Erica has avoided me as much as possible. She won’t be able to for long because yesterday was Gail’s last day. I’m not sure how things will be next week when it’s just the two of us.

  Life seems to be settling into place. I have a job I love, and I’m with a man I love. What more do I need? That answer swiftly enters my mind. I need for PT to progress at a faster rate and for my shoulder to heal. Then again, I love my current job so much that I’m wondering if I should try to return to the game or not. Is it sad that the main reason I want to retire is so that it means I’ll never run into Vance again?

  It’s true. But what kind of person does that make me to let a man run me away from what I’ve worked for my entire life? I’ve been playing since I could walk. Every decision I made was for my career. How can I not try everything possible to get back to that place? On the other hand, doing just that is what caused me to walk away from Noah. It would be difficult for us to maintain a long-distance relationship, especially after all of our time apart already. Noah might not even want that. I’m not even sure if I’d want that.

  Ugh. I hate thinking about my future. It reminds me that many aspects of my life are still up in the air. Things are better, but not quite right still. Plus, I don’t know what it is exactly, but something is off about this weekend. Whether it’s just me, Noah, or both of us, I’m not sure.

  Relief fills me when I’m finally on the plane. It’s not a long flight, thankfully. I’m ready to see my parents and I’m grateful I’ll be spending the weekend with them instead of alone at Noah’s apartment. I guess it should be our apartment, but it’s really not. Noah refuses to accept money for rent because he “would be paying it anyway.” He manages to clean before I can get the chance to most of the time. I’ve bought groceries a few times, though. Maybe his place will feel more like home once my clothes are there. However, I’m not sure if there will be enough room in his closet and dresser. It’s even worse when he’s not home. I definitely feel like I need to be extra careful with his things. It’ll just take time, right?

  My dad is supposed to be waiting at baggage claim for me. I laugh when I spot him holding a paper reading Ms. Quick. I rush over and throw my arms around him, missing him more than I’d realized. I wasn’t exactly social when I was home, too lost in my own head and too wrapped up in my PT sessions.

  “Hey, Meredith. It’s good to see you.”

  “Good to see you too, Dad. Thanks for the sign. I’m not sure how I would’ve found you otherwise.” I roll my eyes, causing him to laugh.

  “You could’ve forgotten what I looked like, so I brought it just in case. How was your flight?”

  “Boring. Why did Mom go to the doctor?” I ask as we begin to walk out of the airport.

  “Just a checkup. Are you hungry? We can grab a bite to eat before I take you to your house.”

  “I’m not really hungry.”

  Once we get into his car, I text Noah of my arrival and Dad fills me in on their visit to see Ashley and her baby. It blows my mind that Noah and I were only together for two years while in high school, and in that time, our families became close. I even became best friends with his younger sister. When I walked away, I walked away from the entire family as well. It was also weird and a little painful to hear when Mom and Dad would get together with them. I haven’t seen them since I left him. I wonder if they are happy we’re back together. I file that question away for later to ask Noah.

  “How’s that boy treating you?” Dad asks as we pull into my driveway.

  “Good. Going to see him was probably the best decision I’ve made in a long time.”

  He cuts the engine and we sit there for a moment. “Are you happy?”

  “Happier than I have been.”

  “Good. I bought some boxes for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  With that, we get out. Dad insists on getting the boxes from the trunk while I go unlock the door. This house doesn’t really feel like home. I’ve had it for a few years, but I rarely spent a lot of time here. It’s a bit too big with its four bedrooms and basement. I fell in love with it for some reason, though. Ironic that I pretty much walked away from it, too. Even after staying here for a solid six months, it doesn’t feel like home.

  I’m ready to have a home. Maybe that’s yet another reason why I should retire. It’s been difficult for me to feel as if I have a home when I was away from it so much. Then again, not playing hasn’t made my house feel like a home. If it weren’t for keeping things from my parents, I would’ve moved back in with them in a heartbeat. Things could be different now that I’m living with Noah if I stay long enough.

  But what if Noah’s apartment never gives me that feeling of relief and peacefulness when you walk into the door because you’re in the place you feel most comfortable? What if I’ve traveled so much, I never find that place?

  “Here you go.”

  I swivel at the sound of Dad’s voice. He sets the boxes down, leaning them against the wall of my bedroom.

  “Are you okay? Something on your mind?”

  “Not really.”

  Dad watches me as I assemble one of the boxes and open my closet door. The first thing that catches my eye are the three jerseys. I might not have watched Noah or kept up with his career, but I always bought a jersey with his name on it. With everything going on, I wasn’t able to buy a Carolina Rebels jersey until this past week. I grab the jerseys and place them into the box. I definitely want to take those.

  My phone dings and there’s a text from Noah, who probably just finished up at practice.

  Noah: How’s packing?

  Me: Just starting.

  “Are you sure everything is okay with you and Noah?” Dad asks as I turn back to my closet.

  “Do you think something is wrong?”

  He laughs, taking a seat on the edge of my bed. “I don’t think there’s smooth sailing in paradise.”

  I glance at him to roll my eyes as I fold some clothes and place them in the box.

  “What’s on your mind, Meredith?” he presses, my phone dinging with another text.

  Noah: Don’t forget all your sexy lingerie.

  Me: I won’t. Don’t forget to make room for my clothes before you leave for your games.

  Noah: Doing it this afternoon.

  “Are you going to ignore me?”

  “No,” I sigh, facing my closet. I shift through the hangers and pretend to be looking at what I want to take. “I don’t know if it’s worth mentioning is all.”

  “If it’s bothering you, then it’s worth it. Is it you or Noah?”

  “Both?”

  Dad sighs now. He’s probably annoyed at my evading. Maybe it’s something about Pittsburgh or this house that causes me to not want to talk about anything.

  “Noah seemed freaked out when I told him I was coming home,” I say to my closet. “He relaxed when I added it was only for the weekend, but it took twenty minutes for him to say goodbye to me this morning and reconfirm when I was coming back. That’s weird, right?” To have something to do, I grab a few jackets and place them in the box.

  Dad has his thinking face on, his lips slightly pursed and his eyes crinkling a little at the corners. “It’s always easier for a man to handle himself walking away than if his woman walks away.”

  “So, Noah’s scared I’ll leave him again?”

>   “Possibly.”

  The familiar guilt and regret from my actions in the past grip my throat, especially since if I return to tennis, we could have a repeat of what happened when we were teenagers.

  “Or,” Dad continues, “he’s still struggling with the side effects of you leaving him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There could be some resentment, some fear, some anger. Just leftover emotions he may not have dealt with.”

  I frown. “I sort of get that, but we both agreed to break up.”

  “But it was your idea,” Dad interrupts. “Noah was always unsure about it. There wasn’t much he could do in protest because you were going to leave him regardless.” When I open my mouth to protest, Dad hurries to add, “If he had begged you, would you have changed your mind? If he had flat-out refused, would you have still walked away?”

  Would I have? If I knew then what I know now, then definitely not. Otherwise, I would have still walked away.

  “Noah didn’t want you to go, but you laid out your reasoning, told him how badly you wanted it, and he didn’t put up much of a fight.” He’s right. Now that I think about it, Noah hardly fought to keep me. “He wanted you to be happy and you pretty much told him breaking up was the only way you would be. It wasn’t a mutual agreement, Meredith. Noah just didn’t protest.”

  “How do you know all these things?” I ask a question that doesn’t really matter.

  “You talked to your mom, Noah talked to his sister who talked to her mom, and we talked to each other.” He shrugs.

  Not wanting to think about it anymore, I go back to packing. Dad leaves shortly after Mom arrives. She does more than Dad to help me pack up, and I’m able to avoid talking much about the apparent problems with Noah and me. Conversation has been on safe topics, like my new job, until Mom gets unusually quiet. Something is clearly on her mind.

  “What do you want to talk to me about, Mom?” I finally ask as we break to eat the pizza I had delivered.

  “Vance called.”

  My throat dries and I feel lightheaded. “What?” I force myself to keep a mostly normal tone.