Page 21 of Known By You
“Admire what?”
“That sunny perspective. You’re definitely a glass half-full kind of guy.”
She didn’t glance over at me, instead keeping her gaze focused ahead. Her driving was technically perfect—she signaled, moved, chose her speed, and functioned with precision. I wondered how she’d do in less-than-ideal circumstances, but from what I’d seen years ago and in every other instance more recently, she handled stress like a walk in the park.
An image flashed into my mind unbidden. Me and Liz, hands joined and fingers linked, arms swinging, wandering through a park.
Sounds nice, my brain traitorously thought, more than a bit wistful.
“Am I wrong?”
Her voice snatched me from the ill-timed reverie. My mind and I needed to have a serious chat because I could not be sitting two feet from her thinking those marshmallow thoughts for the next day.
“No. I am unapologetically an optimist.”
She made a sound—not quite a scoff, not quite a grumble.
“That’s a bad thing?” I asked, a teeny tinypinprick of disappointment worming through me, even though it didn’t surprise me.
“Not at all. If you’ve had a life that has granted you optimism, good for you. It may sound pathetic, but I envy it.”
Ah.“I’m not sure if my lifegrantedme optimism. There have been plenty of times I haven’t felt optimistic. I choose it. And after losing my fingers, and several other times, it was absolutely a choice, not a feeling.” It might be overkill, but I added, “I know it’s a little much for some people.”
She was quiet for a few minutes and before I’d figured out how else to address what she’d said without seeming like I was downright mining for personal information about her, she parked in front of the hotel where we’d pick up our clients.
I was familiar with her line of thought—that only a person who led a charmed life could be positive like I was. But that wasn’t true at all. Most of the people I knew were fairly positive, especially once they’d addressed the things in their lives that had harmed them. We all had something. No, not everyone was as overtly optimistic as I was and that was fine—I didn’t really want to hang out with a bunch of dudes exactly like me. But many of my closest friends had a frame of reference that pushed them more toward hope than despair.
Luc, Bruce, Adam… they were generally positive people despite hard things in their pasts. Beast had grown in that area significantly in the last few years, even amidst grief. And Stone? He’d battled his way through the mud in order to hold on to a semblance of hope. His was hard won, and I rejoiced over any moment he could see the world through a lens of hope.
Before exiting the vehicle, she turned to me, pressing the seatbelt eject button as she did. “I’m sorry I was a jerk.”
I raised a brow. “How were you a jerk?”
Her eyes flickered around, a frown on her pretty mouth. “Just… with the optimist thing. I’m sure I sounded pretty critical of it, but I genuinely admire it. I’m trying to… be more like that.”
No details, but enough honesty that it felt like a victory. “No apology needed. It’s okay if you’re not an optimist. I’ll happily rub off on you.”
Her eyes widened.
“I mean, uh—” The reality of just how creepy that might’ve sounded hit me upside the head. “I just mean I get it. Beast is one of my best friends. Stone, too. So I’m not scared of people who aren’t all sunshine and roses, even if I happen to be that way myself. It’d be boring if we were all the same.”
My cheeks burned, but the way her lips pressed together like they were working to hide a smile eased some of the heat.
Also, I shouldn’t have been noticing whether she was smiling or not—I shouldn’t have been looking at her face that closely.Whoopsie daisy.
“Fair enough. And thanks.” And with that, she got out.
In a matter of minutes, we went through the confirmation protocol with hotel and local security, then arrived at the room on a top floor of the swanky place. It was unlikely I’d ever be super wealthy, but I liked stepping into these spaces I never would’ve imagined being able to afford growing up, and knowing I could get a room here for a night if I so chose and it wouldn’t break the bank.
I knocked twice and after a brief shuffle behind the door,it opened.
Jack McKean stood tall and stupidly handsome on the other side. His face appeared more haggard than I’d seen him outside of the dramatic silver screen roles he tended toward, and he still looked straight out of a magazine spread.
“Thanks for coming,” he said, stepping back and letting us enter the suite.
“Happy to help,” I said, noting thus far, Liz had made no sound.
Would she be wowed by Jack? I couldn’t blame her. I was.
