question in my mind. “Like why did you change?”
“I didn’t—”
I cut her off. “You might not see it. Hell, Stephanie probably doesn’t, either. You two are so tightly wrapped inside the cocoon that is Bethel Falls that you both don’t realize that you’ve become such a scared, nervous person. Where’s the girl who was up for anything? My go-to chick.”
“Don’t call me a chick. I’m not an animal.”
“There we go. There’s that spunk I missed.”
She didn’t respond…for a while actually. Then suddenly her bottom lip quivered and I felt a need to punch myself in the gut. I’d finally done it. I made her cry.
I was an asshole.
“I don’t paint anymore,” she blurted out suddenly.
“What? Why?” This was totally not the direction I expected the conversation to go.
She wrung her hands awkwardly and took a deep breath. An inner battle between my conscience and curiosity raged inside of me. I wanted to save her the pain and tell her that she didn’t need to tell me anything. But my curiosity won out, and once again I found myself being the selfish bastard I’d always been.
“In high school I was…braver.” Her voice sounded meek, like a young child admitting something wrong. “I hadn’t yet experienced how mean the world could be and because of that, I was okay being myself.”
My eyebrows furrowed together. “What are you talking about?”
“I had you…and Stephanie,” she added quickly. “You both made me feel as if I could be anything without repercussions and it’s probably why I tagged along with you so much. Once I was in college—”
“You mean after I left,” I offered glumly.
“That too.”
She spilled out her heart and soul to me, explaining how her self-doubts led her down a path she hated. Had I been a musician or someone creative, I would have bottled up all her melancholic woes and set it free into a song. It was probably horrible to say so, but there was something so beautiful in sadness. The way her voice trembled at the end of her sentences gave her a slight vibrato—a soft song in a harsh world. But none of it felt right. She may have been beautiful in her pain, but she was even more beautiful in happiness.
I pouted slightly and took a deep breath. “Is that the reason you’ve become so…”
“So what?”
“Complacent. With work and with Ethan.”
“What is your obsession with him?” She exposed her palms as if begging me for any bit of information.
But I wasn’t ready to give anything away just yet.
Rocky rolled her eyes and sighed. “Anyway, I do miss the rush I got when I painted, but I guess I’m still too scared to try it again.”
“Were you ever scared of the stuff we did when we were younger?” I asked, masking another searing question: Was I really the monster your parents thought I was?
She threw her head back and chuckled. “Sneaking out? Jumping into your mom’s car at fifteen and driving without a license? Yes, I was petrified.”
I shifted uncomfortably. That wasn’t the answer I was hoping for. Once again I felt like the villain to her life story. “So why didn’t that stop you? Why are you so scared to pick up a brush and paint when you so willingly accompanied me on those stupid, reckless adventures? And tell me the truth. None of that ‘I was protecting you’ crap.”
“Because…”
I didn’t think she’d finish her thought and was surprised to hear a low whisper beside me.
“It’s because you were there,” she answered shyly.
“What was that?” I must have been hearing things. It was as if my stone cold heart had awakened, ecstasy rushing through my arteries.
Her voice wavered. “It’s because I knew you’d never let anything bad happen to me.”
Chapter 27
Rocky was in my restaurant. Let me repeat, Rocky was in my restaurant looking impressed and a bit pissed off, actually. Then again, I really couldn’t blame her considering that Hannah, my newly hired hostess, was throwing her some shade.
We had arrived in the city a little after five, and despite the annoying influx of traffic and some stupid ass drivers, my mood was suddenly rejuvenated. Having her here—having her see me in my element—was the best thing ever.
I motioned toward the huge double doors leading to my sanctuary. Without thinking twice, I reached for her hand and placed it into mine. It was as if we were two pieces in a complicated jigsaw puzzle. It was a perfect fit.
Tugging lightly, I pulled her toward the kitchen. “Let’s go.”
She