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I shrug, unimpressed.
“Sure, having to work a second job while going to school full-time meant college wasn’t a barrel of laughs. But, you know what?” I ask him.
“What?” he responds with an indulgent smile.
“I don’t even remember the hard work. I just know it’s paid off. So, yeah, I come from one of the poorest places in the country. But, I can also tell you that the more successful I become, the more terrible the people I meet are,” I say.
“Oh, come on.”
“It’s true. There are five hundred people in my town. They’re all like my family. They say good morning and they mean it,” I say.
“Hmm, sounds nice.”
“It was. That entire town raised me. When I left for school, over a hundred of them drove down to Memphis to hug me at the airport. They couldn’t give me money, but they gave me the work ethic to fuel my ambition just because they love me. Now everyone around me wants something in return.”
“Maybe. But I still think you defied the odds,” he says.
“So did you,” I throw back. “If you have disposable income, good health insurance, and job security, then you’ve defied the odds. Do you know how unattainable that is for so many people? The odds are stacked against most of us,” I tell him.
“Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve never had to think about any of those things,” he muses like he’s never considered the mundane aspects of life.
Lucky him.
“Do you volunteer?” I cock my head at him.
“Like, you mean … my time?” he asks like it’s the most far-fetched thing he’s ever had.
“Yes, your time. You know, in your community? Worked a soup kitchen, repaired a roof, cut grass, read to someone who couldn’t read to themselves?” I ask.
“No … I support those things financially,” he says.
I shrug. “Yeah, that’s great. And we should all do that if we’re able. But if you don’t interact with the people you’re writing those checks to support, you’ll never see them as anything but poor. Which, contrary to popular belief, is not a character flaw.”
He doesn’t respond, and after a full minute of tense silence, I can’t stand it anymore.
“I’m sorry. I’m just passionate about … well, about everything,” I admit.
“Everything?” He laughs and it rumbles around his chest and rolls over me like thunder. I snuggle closer to him.
“Well, yeah—everything I do, anyway. I don’t see the point in doing something if I’m not all in. It’ll take the same amount of time to do it whether I’m enthusiastic or not. And I’ve found my greatest passions that way. What you give is what you get … I acquired lot from my experiences, so I know that means I’ve got to give them my all, too.”
He doesn’t say anything and I start to feel uneasy. Me and my oversharing big mouth. “Did I just scare you off?” I press my forehead to his chest and close my eyes. “I’m a little neurotic,” I say.
“Where did you come from?” He drops his chin onto the top of my head and pulls me close to him. He smells so good.
“Did you fall asleep when I was talking? I just told you. I’m from Arkansas—”
“That’s not what I mean. I mean, I didn’t know people like you existed ...” He pulls back so he can see my face. I flush at the awe in his eyes.
“Oh, come on. I’m a clumsy, country redneck with a law degree and a nice ass,” I quip to hide my embarrassment.
“Yeah, I can only agree with the nice ass part and I guess I believe you’re a lawyer, but I need to see a diploma.” He slides his hands down and cups the cheeks of said ass in his strong hands. “I’m sorry for what I said to you. You’re incredible. I have never met anyone like you, and I’ve never wanted a do-over so badly in my life.” He rushes the words out in a clumsy, halting sentence. I school my smile before I tilt my head up at him. His eyes are so beautiful and they’re fixed on mine in an open, honest, slightly vulnerable way.
“My mother told me that we speak from our brains, but we hear from our hearts,” I say.
“Meaning you know bullshit when you hear it?” he asks with an amused smirk.
“I know bullshit when I hear it,” I confirm. “And that’s the only reason I’m forgiving you. I can tell you’re really sorry. Also, it sucks that you have such shitty people in your life that you’re walking around expecting to be used,” I say honestly. He tenses again.
