Page 137 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

“You don’t visit,” she said gently. It wasn’t a question.

“I should,” I said. “My mom keeps telling me I should. But every time I think about going to see him in that place, wearing the orange jumpsuit, talking across a table. I just can’t do it.”

“That doesn’t make you a bad son,” Clem said quietly.

“Doesn’t it? He’s still my father. He made mistakes, but he’s paying for them. Maybe I should be more forgiving.”

“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe you’re protecting yourself the only way you know how. There’s nothing wrong with that either.”

I looked up at her, struck by how easily she seemed to understand the conflict I’d been wrestling with for years. No judgment, no pressure to be someone I wasn’t ready to be yet.

“And this is why my mom likes you,” I said. “She told me I was an idiot for letting you go.”

“Smart woman,” Clem said with a small smile. “I like her too. She’s got this warmth about her, like she could make anyone feel at home in her kitchen.”

“That’s exactly what she does. La Tavola isn’t just a restaurant to her—it’s her way of taking care of people. A lot like you. And your dad.”

“I look forward to seeing her again.”

“What are your plans for the new year?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I’ve got some interviews lined up and a few potential opportunities. Why?”

“Because I know what I want it to look like,” I said. “It’s going to look like you and me, boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Are you asking me to be exclusive? Do I get to wear your jacket to prom?”

She was teasing, but I liked that she wasn’t making a big deal out of it.

“Yeah,” I said. “There’s nobody else I want to be with.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “Good. Because I’m not seeing anyone else either. I haven’t had a boyfriend in forever. I’m not sure I know how to be a girlfriend.”

“Really?”

“Really. You kind of ruined me for other guys, Rhett. Even when I was mad at you and trying to convince myself you were just another self-absorbed asshole, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Thank God. Because I have something else I need to tell you.”

She waited, patient as always.

“I’m falling in love with you,” I said, the words coming out in a rush. “No, scratch that. I’m not falling anymore. I’ve fallen. Completely, utterly, embarrassingly head-over-heels in love with you.”

She stared at me like she wasn’t sure she believed me. “Really?”

“Yeah, and I need you to know how sorry I am,” I continued, unable to stop now that I had started. “For how I treated you on the tour and all the mixed signals I put out there. I’m sorry for the way I pushed you away when you got close. For making you feel like you weren’t important to me, because you were. You are. You’re the most important thing in my life, and I was too scared and too stupid to admit it to myself at the time.”

“Rhett—”

“Let me finish,” I said, reaching across the table to take her hand. “You’ve taught me so much about what it means to be honest with yourself. You make me want to be better, Clem. You make me want to be the kind of man who deserves someone like you. I know I’ve got a long way to go, but if you’ll have me, I want to spend every day we have together making up for being such an ass.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, but she was smiling. “You weren’t that much of an ass.”

“I was a colossal ass.”

“Okay, you kind of were,” she agreed, laughing through her tears. “But you had your moments. And you’re making up for it now.”

“This is just the beginning,” I promised.