Page 82 of Single Girl in the City
Because falling wasn’t the scary part. It was realizing that the other person in the equation didn’t acknowledge that falling was an option.
“Were I a lesser man I might take offense to you being able to think so hard after that,” he teased.
Tapping into the lighter part of her, she said, “I think we’ve already established just how much of a man you are.”
She kissed him. It was meant to be a quick kiss, but he took it further, longer, and languid and stripping away any last pretense she was desperately clinging to. He cupped her cheeks and studied her eyes. Whatever he was looking for he found because his face became serious. “You okay?”
“Just catching my breath,” she lied.
“Remember your whole poker face being shit?” he said quietly.
“That’s just you who thinks that. And that was just …”
“Yeah,” he said, and that simple agreement helped erase some of the reasons that were building in her mind as to why it would never work.
Afraid he’d see even more, she dropped her gaze. “What do they mean?” She ran her hands slowly up his arms, over the collection of tattoos, paying special attention to each one. Unlike most people, he didn’t have tattoos scattered all over, each individual tattoo played a part in creating a single work of art.
She stopped on his bicep where there was the logo for his bar. She traced it with her fingertip.
“I got that the day after my father died.” He took her hands and slid them across his chest to the other side, where there was a kanji symbol. “The rough translation is beloved brother. In memory of Kyle. He chose to live a complicated life, then left it full of painful complications for those around him, but I still miss him.”
“We all make mistakes. It doesn’t mean he was a bad person, Owen,” she whispered.
“He was selfish and robbed my family of a lot. He cheated on his fiancée, chose his mistress over Darcy, even knowing she was pregnant. She left him at the altar and he hit the closest bar. Thankfully, he was the only one in the accident.”
She cupped his cheek. “It doesn’t make the pain any less.”
He turned his head and kissed the inside of her wrist. “I’m not an easy guy, Angel. My life is crazy.”
Her heart lurched. “Is this a reminder that all you can give is this week and it’s nearly up?”
“This is my way of letting you know that my life is more packed than my body has tattoos.”
“A full life doesn’t need to mean a bad life or some kind of albatross. You get to choose what’s important to you, not the other way around,” she said, tracing one of the lines that tied all his tattoos into a single, beautiful piece. “Some people would love to have those kinds of connection.”
“Is that what you’re looking for? A connection?”
She gave a deceivingly noncommittal shrug. “Aren’t we all.” Not willing to talk about things that took them down a long and painful road, she said, “I love your tattoos. It’s the story of your life.”
“Which is full and complicated,” he repeated like he was trying to warn her.
She worked hard to keep the sadness from her eyes. “I love how important your family is to you and how you care for them. I love how you treat your employees and work hard to keep your dad’s bar open. I love the way you make me breakfast and the way you make me laugh. Mostly, I love how you make me feel.” She cupped his face. “There’s a lot about you that I love.”
Sweet Lord above, what had she just said? What she felt and what she wanted him to know were vastly different things. Dammit, her eyes were going a little blurry and it was incredibly hard to breathe.
“Hey.” He held her cheek in his hand. “You have me slayed. Every part of you.”
She swallowed hard. “If I’m not careful I might just fall for you.”
“If I’m not careful I might just catch you.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Happy Things:
A roadshow starring
Christian Grey & Mr.Darcy
