Page 47 of Finding Romance
“Maybe I do,” she says in a low murmur. She turns her head a little and places a soft kiss on my palm. Fuck, she’s so innocent, yet it’s like she knows just how to touch me.
“You should get back to your painting,” I state as I motion toward the pot. She grabs my hand and tugs me toward the greenhouse. She pats a stool and I sit.
“Tell me about your worst day,” she says as she turns and starts to paint.
Something about her not facing me gives me the courage to tell her something, just one thing. I can do that much, for her.
“I can tell you about my first worst day,” I start.
She nods but doesn’t speak. So I continue.
“I lived with my parents in Maine. My dad was a fisherman and my mom sometimes went out on the boat with him when his two crew were unavailable. I had just turned fourteen.” I pause as I remember that day. I had been so excited to get to go fishing and help. I wouldn’t have admitted that to my parents, but it was the truth.
“My dad had me and my mom helping, since Mo and Butch weren’t available. We left later than he had wanted to. There was a storm coming and he wanted to get in before it hit. But the storm rolled in faster than he expected. Lightning hit our motor. A giant wave rolled the boat. And in the storm and confusion, I got separated from them. I managed to grab on to a dinghy and I clung to it for two hours before the Coast Guard found me. They never recovered my parents’ bodies,” I say as I close my eyes, willing the memories to subside.
I feel two small, soft hands on mine and I open my eyes.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she says as we stare at each other.
“It was a long time ago,” I state because it was.
“Yes, but that doesn’t make a difference. My parents were divorced a long time ago, and I still remember their fights. That stuff doesn’t go away. And when you remember it, it’s like it happened yesterday. Like an old wound that never healed right and sometimes just pops open,” she says and the sadness in her voice breaks my heart. She steps between my legs. I pull her against me, and she holds me tightly. I feel like we’re each other’s life vests in a stormy ocean. How will I ever be able to let her go?
“Kasen,” she says.
“What, baby?” I say quietly.
“I sort of need to tell you something,” she says and I lean back and look at her. She looks nervous. What in the world could possibly make Piper nervous?
“You can tell me anything,” I insist and I mean that. I want to hear everything Piper has to say. She trembles a little and now I’m worried. What could be so bad?
CHAPTER TWENTY
Piper
“I’m a virgin,” I whisper as I close my eyes because I am too mortified to admit that out loud and look at him while I do it.
When I peek up at him, I find that he hasn’t moved. He doesn’t blink. Heck, I don’t think he’s even breathing.
“Kasen?” I say.
He steps back a little as if I’m made of glass and he’s afraid he’ll break me. Damn it!
“Stop,” I say loudly. “Don’t do that. Don’t disappear because I shared that with you. It’s not a big deal. It’s a mere product of not dating. It’s not some sacred thing to me.” I pause but he still doesn’t come closer.
Sighing, I step toward him. “I shouldn’t have told you that. Two of the guys I went out with, I told that to and I never heard from them again. What is it about being a virgin that terrifies men? Seriously. I just want to get it over with.” I pause, sighing again. “Maybe I should just hire a professional.” And for the first time, I mean it. I’m tired of this. I’m tired of feeling like this is some weird social albatross. I’m tired of feeling like this is one of the key things that keeps me from dating men. After the second time of a guy being weird about it, I just started to retract myself from the dating world. It became that final nail in my dating-life coffin.
I’m about to tell him to just forget it. Forget the whole stupid dating-coach thing, forget that third pretend date. I’ll leave a few days early. Aunt Cornelia is pretty much back to being able to get around with just Margie’s help.
“Like hell you will,” he growls, stopping my thoughts in their tracks. I look into his eyes and I see a fire raging. Why is he so angry? It’s not his virginity.
I put my hands on my hips. “If you won’t do it, then I will do it. I’m an adult. I can make these decisions for myself. Hell, I’ve been making decisions for myself for years. My dad pretty much checked out of parenting after the divorce. He treated me as an equal instead of a child. I was just some temporary roommate when I visited. And my mother…well, as much as she provided for me, she spent equal or great parts of her time trying to chase after God knows what in these stupid long-distance marathons. Everything about my life was centered around when she had her next race. And if she had time left over, then great, she’d be there to mom me, but I was just an afterthought, second best to first place running.”
My voice shakes a little on that last statement. I’ve never been the most important. “I was just a check box on their life list,” I whisper.
Kasen’s big hands come up to my face, cupping it gently. His thumbs wipe tears that I didn’t know were running down my cheeks.
“You deserve to be someone’s only check box. If your parents are too blind to see how important you are, then that’s their loss,” he says as his eyes search mine. “You are the biggest prize, the only prize. I’m sorry they made you feel that way.”
