“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 paused in horror.

“What’s wrong?” I asked in confusion.

“We can’t go in there!”

“Why not?”

“It’s the kitchen! Isn’t that some FDA violation?” she looked extremely nervous, which did nothing but kick me in the gut. She was definitely not the rule breaker from yesteryear. It only confirmed my theory—I really did drag her down with me every single time.

I stared at her blankly. “It’s also my business and I say we’re allowed in.”

“But—”

“My office is inside. Come on,” I urged.

As we meandered past the counters, my employees lifted their hands in happy greeting. A few even nodded their heads, grinning from ear to ear. More than likely they were enthused to find out that I knew somebody of the opposite sex. My reputation of being an asexual workaholic was often a favorite topic of conversation.

“Wow, everyone likes you,” Rocky commented.

“Is that a surprise?” I laughed.

“No, I just mean…” Her voice trailed off, but I didn’t press her on it. I didn’t feel a need to. I was quite surprised that a loner deviant like me would even have employees who tolerated me, let alone liked me. A few of us would even hit a bar or two after closing time. It was a far cry from who I was in Bethel Falls, that’s for sure. If it still surprised me, I could only imagine how Rocky must have felt.

I squeezed in behind my desk, trying to figure out a way that both of us would be comfortable when I heard Rocky’s awestruck whisper. “You kept your copy?”

I grinned at my favorite photograph. The beginning of all things that ended between us. I didn’t know why I loved it so much. Truthfully, it was a bit depressing.

I cleared my throat. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I? It was the only thing you ever mailed to me after I moved…It was a good night.”

“Pretty good,” she agreed.

“Got worse as it went on though,” I grunted.

Rocky sighed. “Can we change the subject?”

I’d love nothing more.

“To what?”

“Like…um…” She tapped her fingers against my desk, her tell to run away, but we both knew there was no way she could hide out now. “Why drive me across state lines? You could have just told me about your restaurant. I would have believed you.”

“But you wouldn’t see the relationship I have with my employees,” I explained. “You wouldn’t see the following I have and all the regulars I tend to.”

“I would have believed all those things even without seeing them,” she insisted.

I reached out and began to drum my fingers on the table beside hers. She abruptly pulled her hands back into her lap and I couldn’t help but feel a slight sting about it.

Well, here goes nothing.

“I wanted to show you that even if I was here, I still thought about you every day. I stare at this photo during every shift. I used to just sit here and dream about seeing you again. I’d wonder what you were doing, who you were with.” I gulped. “Or if you were seeing somebody.”

“You could have just called me and asked. Actually, you could have even visited.”

It’s really not that simple.

I gazed around my kitchen and motioned around. “See this? This is what I made myself out to be. Once I moved to Charleston I was able to say goodbye to the Jesse that kept fucking everything up and reinvent myself. Sure, when I first got here I was still trying to be that same badass I was. I’d sneak out, binge drink, and one time I even got high on some laced shit and was on the verge of just ending it all.”

“What?” She gasped.

I hadn’t meant to tell her all that, but I was glad I did. It was time to get everything out in the open. Even the bad things I’d rather have kept hidden.