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She’s so close I can see the flutter in her throat as she swallows, count the lashes fanning her cheek as she avoids looking at me.
“Hmm,” I hum, waiting as the quiet stretches out.
Eventually, she gives me the real answer. It comes in a voice so quiet it almost hurts. “I don’t want to disappoint myself.”
The weight of what she’s trusting me with hits me. Bee better prepare herself, because now that I know how hard it must have been to ask me for help, I’m going to move heaven and earth to fulfill my promise.
“I’m not in the habit of telling anyone to lower their standards, but if there is one way you’re disappointing yourself, it’s in the way you demand a level of perfection not seen since the trials of Hercules.” I rub my jaw to stop myself from reaching for her. If I touch her now, I might never stop. “Everything you’ve said just proves my point.”
“No, it doesn’t.” She’s practically glaring. It’s absolutely the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. “I could only do any of that because no one knew I was doing it. Why do you think I moved away in the first place? I thought if I was somewhere no one knew me, then no one would see it if I failed. If I embarrassed myself, I could just come home.”
It finally clicks. Even though she told me such at thebank months ago, it never made sense to me. Why Bee would come home if her career was on the other side of the country. But I understand now.
It wasn’t only the comfort of family she was seeking. It was sanctuary from what she thought was a black mark against her.
“Why me? Why not ask Aiden for help?”
The last thing I want to hear is that I’m the best option because I don’t matter. The thought alone tears at my gut. I’m a decent guy, but I’m not a saint. I want to matter to her.
“Because you know what he’s like. He’ll worry or want to fix it for me or both. I thought Morgan would help, but her advice is what landed me in this in the first place. You’re much more controlled than they are, and I’ve never heard you talk about having regrets. So I knew you would tell me whether I was being ridiculous. Even if I risked you never seeing me the same way again.”
Christ. Where do I even start?
Before I can, she continues. “I probably would have chickened out if I hadn’t gone with you to the bank. But this way, we can help each other.”
She sits beside me. “Why didn’t you ever move away?”
“Mom.” I made myself a promise a long time ago, and I’m a man of my word. “Besides, why move? Everything I need is right here.” Now more than ever.
“I know what you mean. I thought moving was the answer, and it helped, but I spent most of my time thinking of everything I’d left behind.”
“I had no idea. You always looked like you were having the time of your life.” I did, of course, follow herupdates, telling myself that it was in concern for her, or solidarity with Aiden. But I know better now.
From the curl of Bee’s smile, I’m not the only one.
“I wasn’t about to admit I’d made a mistake, was I?”
True.
“I thought I’d found my dream job,” she continues, stretching out. I try to avoid drinking in the bare skin of her legs—again with those fucking shorts—and the soft curve of her stomach where her sweater has ridden up. I fail miserably.
“Journalism was supposed to be my backup. I never planned to double major, but it isn’t exactly easy to find a solid career in creative writing. Do you know how many writers still have to maintain a day job? A lot of them. When I got the opportunity to ghostwrite, it sounded like the best of both worlds. And it turned out I was good at it.”
A side effect of years of bartending is learning to listen between the lines. I can hear what she’s not saying. Ghostwriting wasn’t what she really wanted, but it was close enough, and it was safe. Safer than failing at her dream.
I wonder how many times she’s denied herself what she really wants in favor of something safe. She deserves to have it all, and fuck me, I want to be the man to give it to her.
“It’s about her discovering herself, her powers. Yes, it’s a bit on the nose, but I like the idea of taking what is usually an internal journey—who am I? What makes meme?—andmaking it external.” Bee is perched, cross-legged, at the end of the bed.
I’ve never seen her so alive.
I’m about to claw through my own skin with the need to kiss her.
“She was a baby when Victor became her guardian, and although he raised her, trained her, he’s kept her in the dark about her family. It’s not until her sister reveals that they’re related that she even knows she has one. So, after eighteen years, Haisley suddenly has to rethink her entire existence. Rediscover who she is and where she fits.”
“It sounds a lot more personal to you than young adults with powers.”
“Well…”
