Page 168 of Forever Never
But there was nothing.
His cell phone rang inside, and with a sigh, he closed the front door and went in search of it.
Remi Ford.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, already turning for the front door.
“Nothing, you big goof. I haven’t had enough time to get into trouble. I just wanted to talk to you while I get ready for bed.”
“Seriously?”
“You’re the one who wanted a relationship,” she teased. “That means we have to have long, meaningful conversations over the phone. Let’s start with what did you want to be when you grew up?”
“A pissed-off, turned-on man waiting for a redhead to come to her senses and climb into his bed.”
“Congratulations on that oddly specific dream coming true.”
“Remi.”
“Brick. Come on. Play along. You might have fun.”
“Not as much fun as if you were naked in my bed.”
“William Eugene Callan the Third. You are not helping my resolve,” Remi said.
She didn’t bust his real name out often, but when she did, she meant business. He cleared his throat. “Fine. I wanted to be a cowboy, a bodyguard, and a game show contestant.”
“What game show?”
“I wanted to win both showcases onThe Price is Right. I used to watch it with my mom. What did you want to be?” he asked, carrying their dishes into the kitchen. No room was the same without her in it. She took the light and color with her.
“You know, I don’t think I ever really thought of a job or a label and thought ‘that’s who I want to be,’” she mused.
“I do recall you giving your guidance counselor some migraines.”
“I knew what I wanted to feel instead of what I wanted to do,” she said on an adorable yawn.
“What did you want to feel?” he asked.
“Happy. Respected. Loved. I wanted to feel like I was important to someone beyond my parents and sister. I wanted to matter and not just in the ‘this is my weird little sister who sees music’ way.”
“That’s not how anyone sees you,” Brick said, climbing the stairs to his empty bed.
She sighed. “None of us see ourselves the way others do. Aren’t you the one who just recently confessed to not feeling like he was good enough for a certain someone?”
“Thisis what you talked to your boyfriends about?”
“I’m talking toyou. We’re talking from a safe distance where no one’s clothes will fall off and distract us from the issue at hand.”
He sprawled out on his bed, one hand behind his head, and wished she was next to him. Wished he could turn his head and see that cascade of red hair spilling over his pillows.
“I’d rather talk face-to-face,” he grumbled.
“You’d rather be face-to-face so you can get distracted from talking,” she countered. “Now, tell me why on Miles Davis’s green earth you would ever feel like you’re not good enough.”
His Remi had never looked at him through the lens of reality. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he couldn’t leave her alone. He was addicted to the way she saw him.
“Come on, Brick,” she cajoled. “I really want to know where you got the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas.”
