Page 35 of A Ballad of Betrayal and Beauty

“Because you’re beautiful,” he responds without missing a beat. The bluntness of it has my cheeks scorching hot in a moment.

“You’re very direct.”

“Considering you hardly gave me the time of day last week, I want to be clear about my intentions.”

“And what are those?”

He steeples his fingers and props his chin on them. “Well, I’d like to take you on a date. Preferably somewhere with pizza and music but if you like fancy shit, I’m okay with that too. Then maybe to the arcade or bowling. After I’ve wildly impressed you with my skills, we’d come back here and we’d pretend like all of our clothes went missing from the laundromat so our only option under the terrible circumstances would be to get naked.”

I can’t help but laugh. “And then what? Naked twister?”

His mouth twists. “Naked twister? Nowthere’sa sport I would participate in. Great idea.”

I kick at his boots with my trainers.

“Okay,” he continues, “but after you beat my ass at naked twister—even though, let’s be real, I’m still winning—I’d probably move on to trying to impress you with my random animal fact knowledge. For example, did you know that polar bears actually have black skin underneath all that fur?”

My eyebrows lift. “Really?”

“And penguins mate for life.”

I press my lips together and stare at my lap. “Hmm, I wonder what that’s like.”

“What? Being a penguin?”

I shake my head. “No. Someone loving you permanently.”

It’s been quiet for a long time. I shouldn’t have said anything. What a pathetic thing to say—my god, he’s going to think I’m some unlovable maniac.

Looking up, I blink furiously. “Sorry, that—I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Do you do that a lot?”

I rear back. “Do what?”

“Say something vulnerable and immediately try and take it back?”

I squeeze my thigh, and let out a long breath. I could try to deny it but where would that get me? “Not often. I’ve made a living acting the part.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And what part is that?”

“Whatever part I need to.”

Again, silence, and this time I know I’ve said too much.

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” he says quietly.

Our eyes meet again, and waves crash and swirl inside me, igniting my nerves. It makes me want to just pour myself out onto the floor and show him all the battered and bruised pieces of me.

“I only ever wanted to know the real you. Remember? The woman who turned down Victor Von Douche and his guaranteed cash to give the outcast a chance.”

This is too much. No one is really this nice. Who the hell does he think he is? What is he playing at? I stand abruptly. “I need a smoke.” I turn and head out the door into the fresh air. Twisting my bag around, I fish out my pack of cigarettes and place one between my lips. Furiously, I dig for a lighter, my heart racing. When I find it, I click and click and click but the damn thing just won’t light.

“God damnit,” I mutter.

“Need a light?” Joel asks, placing his own cigarette between his teeth and holding up his lighter.

I sigh, then nod. “Yes, thanks.”

---