back. So, I square my shoulders and brace myself for the look of pity that always follows.
But it doesn’t come.
Neither does the judgement.
Graham’s emerald eyes are only filled with understanding. “We want to please our fathers, but that means we can’t be who we really are. We have to choose: be ourselves, or be who they want us to be. You should take pride in the fact that you’re fearless enough to stay true to yourself, but that comes with a shitload of guilt.”
I’m rendered speechless.
Something fucked up in him reflects the something that’s fucked up in me.
He actually gets it.
He gets me.
I avert my attention to the stairs below us, breaking the pull those green orbs of his have on me.
“You said three tattoos.” He side-eyes me, arching an eyebrow. “I don’t see the other two.”
“Guess you’ll have to use your imagination then,” I say with a wink, earning me another one of his sexy smirks. “Do you have any ink?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve never loved anything so much that I wanted it branded on my skin forever.”
“That’s fair. And also kind of sad. There has to be something you love. Someone.”
He doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he leans back against the wall and silence settles between us.
So there is someone. Or there was.
“What’d you see in Dominick?”
His question catches me off guard. Nobody’s ever asked me something in such a blunt way before.
So I deflect and hike a shoulder. “He’s good-looking. Has money. What’s not to like?”
Graham’s head swivels to face me, but he says nothing. He doesn’t have to. He knows my response was bullshit.
And I don’t like that he can see through my bullshit.
I fold my arms. “Then why don’t you tell me since you’re so smart?”
“You dated him because you knew it was a waste of time,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Because it was safe. Because you keep people at arm’s length where they can’t hurt you.”
“How was he safe? The asshole cheated on me.”
“Because you knew he would fuck it up. He was predictable. The movie can’t take you by surprise when you already know how it’s going to end.”
Shit, he’s good.
“All right, Dr. Phil. That’s enough psychoanalysis for one night.” I tip an extra-long pour of tequila into my mouth.
“Tattoos and tequila,” he mumbles. “Never would’ve guessed.”
I smirk. “There’s lots about me that would surprise you.”
“I’m learning that. Thought you were a Park Avenue princess when I took this job.”
“Disappointed?”
He chuckles and looks away. “Hardly.”
“Holy shit. Was that an actual smile?” I sit up on my knees and grip his face to examine him, yanking his jaw left and right. “I didn’t think it was possible.”
His smile spreads wider and a slight redness tinges his cheeks. Something warm pools in my stomach. Now I can’t decide if his smile or his glare is sexier.
He swats me away and I slouch back down beside him. We take turns drinking in comfortable quiet. By the time we’ve drank half the bottle, my muscles feel loose and my vision is fuzzy.
“You were right about what you said about Dominick,” I say, a slight slur in my speech.
“I know.”
“Still sucks being cheated on. Even if I did see it coming.”
“You’re better off. He could never handle a girl like you.”
“A girl like me?”
Here we go again with the assumptions.
“You’ve got fire in your veins and passion in your heart. Those vapid, trust-fund kids will never be able to hold a candle to you. You’re different.”
Being the black sheep in a herd of expensive white ones is something I’m acutely aware of. I’ve known it, been called it, my whole life. It’s not a good thing. When adults look down their noses at you and call you different, it’s meant as a derogatory comment.
But the same phrase coming from Graham’s mouth ... it means something else entirely.
“How do you know that?” I ask. “You don’t even know me.”
“It’s my job to read people.”
His job. Of course.
But then he continues. “It’s easy to see you’re nothing like them, Eva. You need to find someone who can appreciate all that you are because you’re incredible.”
He freezes with lifted eyebrows, looking surprised at his own words, like he didn’t expect them to come out.
I didn’t expect them either.
No one’s ever seen anything more than what I allow them to see. Nobody’s bothered to look further.
Graham abruptly stands with the bottle of tequila, a slight sway in his stance. He holds out his hand for me to take, and I let him lead