Page 37 of At First Smile
“They’re the disappointment, Rowan.”
“What does that mean?”
“They don’t see you, the real you. If they really saw you, then they wouldn’t be disappointed by you. They’d know who you are and why you do the things you do. I see you.”
I swallow thickly. “We just met.”
“That doesn’t mean that I don’t see you.”
“And what do you see?”
“He asks the blind girl.” A quiet giggle breaches her lips.
“Smartass.”
“Kind. Protective. Guarded. Supportive. Generous. A sweet man.” Her eyelids heavy and her hand covers a small yawn. “It’s what I see when I look at you.”
Fullness surges in my chest.
“Will you stay with me?”
“Yes.” My lips press at the crown of her head.
“Yay.” She snuggles against me. “See you’re not disappointing me.”
We lay quiet, her relaxed body curled in my arms. The ceiling fan’s gentle hum and the soft melody of her steady breaths silence any doubt that I am where I should be, despite the niggling worry that slithered inside me because of each raised eyebrow, lingering look, or second glance our way.
“I did something recently that upset a lot of people.”
“What?” she mumbles.
“I punched someone.”
“Why?”
I regret the tension now invading her relaxed body. “He did something to someone I care about.”
“Then…you were”—she yawns— “right.”
“The thing is, nobody knows what he did and why I punched him. If people knew it would hurt the person I care about more. All anyone knows is that I punched him, and it just reinforces what they think of me.”
I close my eyes, pushing away the pinched face of my mother in the stands. My brothers beside her. Finn, eyes blinking and head shaking, while a stone-faced Gillian leans back.
“Protective.” A sleepy smile caresses her lips.
“Maybe you do see me,” I whisper, praying it’s true.
This woman’s vision of me is akin to a fresh spring storm, washing away the barren remains of a lonely winter. In her eyes is the promise of rebirth. Am I deserving of that? Of her?
“Pen, when I said I still play hockey…” I look to Pen. Her eyes are shut. Breath steady. Body still. “Goodnight, Pen.” I press a kiss to her head. Reaching to the bedstand, I click off the light. Eyes closed, I sink into this moment with this woman, who is utterly undisappointed in me, in my arms and I pray that I won’t fail her faith in me.
CHAPTER NINE
Baggage
Pen
My eyes flutter open, taking in the sunshine creeping into the room through the gap between the window’s edge and drapes. Rowan’s woodsy scent lingers, but the bed is devoid of the muscular frame that held me tight all night. I sit up, the warm duvet falling to my waist, grab my glasses from the bedstand, and scan the room.
