took me a few extra minutes inside because I had to sort out the bill.
She looks over her shoulder in my direction and sees me coming. I go up to her and stand beside her while she sticks her arm out at a cab again. It doesn’t stop, and she’s looking frustrated.
“Look at me, Ella,” I say firmly. I know she’s heard me; her body physically reacted to my voice. She takes a moment and then turns to face me. I can see she’s trying her best to make it clear she’s upset.
I get it. I said the wrong thing.
“If we are going to have an adult conversation, I need you to stop walking away from me before we’re done talking,” I say.
Her nostrils flare. She’s offended. I can see that, and I want to hold her and stroke her hair. I need her in my arms. But we aren’t there yet. I can’t just pull her into me.
She hooks her hands on her hips and faces me with a new kind of rage.
“Are you trying to imply that I’m nothing but a child?”
“You’re behaving like one when you get up and walk out without an explanation.”
She rolls her eyes and spins away from me. Yeah, I’m fuckin’ frustrated too. I keep my hands stuck deep in the pockets of my jacket. My fists are clenched inside my pockets.
All I want to do is kiss her and feel her body against mine; all of this is just a roadblock to that destination.
She finally looks at me again.
“And if you want to have a conversation with me, you need to stop viewing yourself as the wise old man. I’m not a child.”
A compromise will have to be reached at some point so I must relent.
“Okay, yes, you’re right. Now, can we talk?”
She’s still glaring at me.
“Do you mind stepping away from the edge of the road?”
“I don’t want to go back in there after the scene I made,” she says. Her nose is crinkled and she looks adorable. I can’t help but grin at that.
“We can go sit in my car,” I suggest, and she nods. In silence, she follows me to the car park at the back of the restaurant. The valet has already run off to bring the car over, but I wave him off.
At the car, I hold the door open for her, and she steps inside. Once we are sitting together, half-turned to face each other, I notice that she’s still not smiling.
I hoped we could get past all the other stuff. Her past. My past. The job. My family history. Everything. I just want to focus on us and what we can have together, but it seems like Ella still has some things she needs to overcome.
“I told you I want you,” I begin.
She looks uncomfortable, shifting in the seat. I can sense something’s bothering her, but I need to state the fact.
“And I meant it,” I continue.
“Reed, I need to talk first,” she interrupts.
“I heard you the first time. I understand how your history with other men might affect what happens between us.”
“Reed, please, it’s not about us. I need to get this off my chest. I need to tell you now before we can talk about anything else.”
I can hear the strain in her voice. She seems agitated. Nervous. Worried. I search her eyes for an answer, and she sighs. I notice the way she’s clasping her hands together.
“What is going on?” I growl. This can’t be good news.
“I met your uncle yesterday. Matthew. I met him at a cafe, and we spoke for a while. I was just trying to figure out what happened. I wanted to vet him before introducing you to him. If that is what you want.”
I can hear her speaking, but her voice is like a distant drum, fading and becoming difficult to hear.
“There’s some important stuff I found out about your uncle and his family. You got it all wrong. It wasn’t that they didn’t care about you; they thought you didn’t want to see them.”
I blink, registering the words.
“What?”
She nods.
“Matthew and the rest of your father’s family are under the assumption that your mother is alive. They thought she brought you up, that she was there to raise you. They had no idea about your foster homes. They thought she was the one keeping you away from them.”
I feel like I need to get out of here. Like I need to be alone.
“But my mother is dead,”