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And that voice? It’s the furthest thing from girlish. That voice is all grown-up. It’s not giddy or overly bright. It’s all honey and spice, smooth with a hint of heat—borderline sensual without even trying.
I’ve been in her presence for just over an hour, and I can tell she’s got a knack for helping people. For making a dark room feel just a little bit brighter. And that’s not something you can learn in the pages of a book.
“Exactly! This is a core memory. A night we’ll tell our kids about one day.”
And all it does is make me want to pay her more compliments.
“Oh, tonight? Tonight is just our meet-cute. It’s the night we’ll tell our kids about one day. Remember?”
This is me. I still want to be silly sometimes. I love to explore. I like to look at the glass as half-full. Hell, I will happily make lemonade.
To the outside observer, it would appear that I’m staring at the guy I showed up here with. But they would be wrong. I’m staring at his dad.
“The fuck did you just say to her?”
Bash’s voice is cold as ice from across the table.
To never sell myself short or question my value.
“And I allow myself to acknowledge that I am not every person’s cup of tea. Maybe I am more than they can handle. And that’s okay because I’m quite fond of myself and no one can take that away from me. I’m at peace with who I am, so what you think of me doesn’t matter.”
All I know is that the first thing that comes to mind is, If I live, I’m coming after you.
“I know I’m a lot to handle sometimes. People get tired of me. Then they stop showing up.”
“Goddamn, you must be good with your hands.”
“I mean, you must be handy.”
“I’m both.”
“Gwen. I can’t fuck it all up. I can’t cross that line, no matter how tempted I am.”
A familiar feeling stirs inside me. The one where I’m in the way or not good enough—a burden. I know it’s not true. I know that’s not what he meant.
“I can’t decide if I want to keep winning or lose a few hands just to watch you work for it.”
Fuck.
“Careful what you wish for, Gwen. I’ve got a laundry list of ways I’d like to watch you work for it, and none of them involve poker.”
“Fuck,”
“God. I really should not want you this badly,”
“But look at you. You’re fucking perf—”
“The thing is, Gwen, next time you want to watch me, you should just ask.”
“Wow. Encouraging. Please enlighten me. Tell me more about the ways that I’m fucked.”
“Your throat chakra is fucked because you can’t, for the life of you, say out loud what’s in your head. Never mind your heart chakra—you definitely won’t acknowledge anything going on in there. But based on your current behavior, I’m going to go say that one is positively brimming with jealousy.”
“Is that so, Gwen? And what would I be jealous of?”
“I don’t know, Bash. What would you b...
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“Could it be Tripp? You mad he had wh...
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“I think I’ve made myself pretty clear. I told you what I’d have chosen, and you told me to back off.”
“Careful, Gwen.”
“Or what? You might man up and take something for yourself for once?”
I snap. I take something for myself for once. My hands dart out and grip Gwen’s waist.
“You know...
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I snarl, yanking her toward me, staring at her plush mouth as her lips softly part—no doubt to say something infuriating. But I d...
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“Fuck...
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Then I ki...
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“Fucking look at you,”
“Fucking perfect. And so fucking off-limits.”
“That he was a fool to let you get away. But that it was just as well because I could fuck you better.”
“Gwen, listen. I’ve known him for years now, and he might be one of the best people I know. Prickly and ornery and set in his ways, but good. He’s been hurt. He’s been told a few too many times that he isn’t good enough. Between his ex-wife and Tripp’s mom, he’s learned the hard way that people use him as a stepping stone to the life they really want. He expects to be left behind.”
“And those are tough wounds to heal. Especially for a man so paralyzed by all his own regrets. He’s stuck. I see it, and I bet if you looked hard enough, you’d see it too. But when he met you? You shook him up. It changed something. It changed him. And I reckon that if you have the fortitude to keep at him, he might just soften up for you. It won’t be easy. But nothing worth having ever comes easy.”
“But, Gwen, if you aren’t serious about the guy, you should leave sooner rather than later. Find that next gig. Keep chasing those dreams. Because this is harder on him than he’ll ever let on.”
“I lashed out, and you didn’t deserve it. So I’m sorry. If you want to be Gwen Dawson, mother of raccoons, then I won’t stand in your way. I support you in that venture. You can be seen and heard in my house. And you are welcome to befriend overgrown rodents who may or may not carry diseases. I won’t judge you.”
“Yes,”
“Yes, what, Gwen? I’m going to need you to use your words. Because I’m about to snap and fuck you right here in this plane, but I need to know you want it first.”
“It’s about fucking time, Rousseau,”
“Like what?”
“All mine.”
