Page 53 of Meet Your Match
“You really are tense,” he said, finding a particularly stubborn knot under my shoulder blade and digging into it. I hissed, but didn’t pull away, knowing I’d feel better once it was worked out.
“Yeah, well, let’s just say, I’m not used to your hours yet.”
“Tell me about your life. What did a normal day look like before you got this assignment?”
I sighed. “Well, I usually start my morning on my mat.”
“Yoga?”
I nodded. “And then coffee, of course.”
“Of course.”
“From there, it depends. On the weekends, I’m probably tending my garden, or spending time at the beach, or hitting a new brunch spot with Liv. Sundays start at the park, as you know. If it’s a weekday, I’m either in the office or out on the town, depending on what my job is that day.”
“Is this your dream job?”
I laughed. “I don’t know if Ihavea dream job.”
“Sure, you do. What would you do if money were no object, if your bills were paid and all you had to do was fill your time?”
A long moment passed before I found the words to answer.
“I don’t know.”
It was the most painful admission, one I was surprised I made. It dredged up the embarrassment I’d felt when I admitted that to James when we were together, how he’d judged me for it even before I realized that’s what he was doing.
People like him, like Vince, didn’t understand what it was like to not be born knowing exactly what you wanted to do with your entire life.
“My parents, they’ve always known their path,” I said. “They were in AmeriCorps together, shaping communities for the better. They dedicated an entire decade of their life after college before they got out and started making a life of their own. Now, Mom works with a women’s shelter, and Dad builds houses in communities where owning a home seems more like a pipe dream than a reality within reach. They brought me up with those same values, and I want to give back. I want to make Tampa, and theworld,better.”
“But?”
I hated that he knew there was a but, and I was glad to be facing away from him, to not have those hazel eyes peering into mine when I answered.
“But I don’t necessarily love it the way they do. Don’t get me wrong,” I said hurriedly. “I enjoy giving back, I do. I love feeling connected to people, and making them feel valuable, worthwhile — reminding them they’re not alone. It’s just… I don’t know. I guess I just wish I had the same passion for it. I wish it fueled me the way it fuels my parents.” I paused. “You should have seen their faces when I told them I didn’t want to go into the Peace Corps. I think a small part of them died that day.”
“Does anything fuel you that way?” Vince asked.
I let out a long exhale, my heart squeezing. It felt so foolish to say the answer to that out loud. Because when I thought of what made me feel passionate, it was creating content — editing videos, getting the perfect photograph, creating presets that, in turn, create an entire vibe. I loved writing captions. I loved making something that went viral, that reached millions of people worldwide.
Right now, it was Vince Tanev and the Tampa Ospreys and hockey.
But maybe one day, it could be more.
Instead of saying any of that, I just shrugged.
Vince’s grip on me softened. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now, you know?”
I nodded, but refrained from pointing out thathehad it all figured out, and he was younger than me.
“What youdoneed,” he continued, moving to massage my neck again. “Is to relax.”
“Says the perfectionist.”
But my joke was cut short because Vince moved his hands from my neck into my hair, massaging the base of my skull.
I moaned, melting.
