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She pointed her spoon at me. “You? Married?” She cackled. Yes, cackled. And like a chicken. “I for sure thought you’d live the single life forever.”
I gave her a mock hurt expression. “I’m offended by your assumptions.”
She sat up straighter, waving the spoon in the air. “Your life—as an outsider looking in—seems that way.” She shrugged. “Just saying it how I see it.”
“How so?” I lifted an eyebrow.
She licked the side of the spoon, and her tongue poking out like that made my eyes flash. I shifted on my bed.
“You always have a new girl on your arm,” she pointed out. “That’s one thing. And, two, you have multiple places. Totally only a bachelor thing.”
She was giving me this sassy,prove me wronglook, and I really wanted ice cream right now, but from her mouth. Or better yet, I could drip it all over her body and lick her clean. I swallowed. Hard.
“Perception is deception,” I countered, my tone hoarse. “That’s what you see on the outside ’cause you don’t know me. That’s what other people see because that’s what they print about me. That’s what sells magazines.”
Her lips tipped downward as she peered into the empty ice cream container. She wasn’t even listening.
I never cared what others thought of me, not really.
Not unless they were my friends or family.
But we were friends now, weren’t we?
I scooted closer until we were shoulder to shoulder. “I’ll have you know that most of my team is married with kids. I’m probably one of the few single ones left. And to be honest, I’m jealous of all of them.”
She placed the container on the side table, almost pouting. I’d get her more ice cream if I wasn’t so annoyed and hell-bent on her hearing me out.
She shook her head. “You’re just not the norm, Austin. And it’s okay. It’s okay to bedifferent.” She patted my arm condescendingly and scooted off the bed, taking the empty container with her.
But I wasn’t done. “Why is it so hard to believe that I want what others have? I want what your parents had and my parents never did.” I didn’t know why I wanted her to believe me so badly.
That caused her to pause and really look at me. She tilted her head and stared at me as though she was assessing me. I felt like I was under a microscope, and I tried not to squirm.
Everyone believed the hype about Austin Callaway, but the truth was, there was no hype. I was just a guy who wanted the normal things in life—friends, stability, my own family one day.
“You’re right.” She sat back down at the edge of the bed, the container still in hand. “I prejudged you. I guess I just don’t know you that well.”
Well, you’re going to get to know me.The thought pushed through without warning, and I stiffened.
My reactions toward her were getting awkward, intimate, making me too vulnerable for my liking.
Being in a sling didn’t help at all.
Someone on-screen screamed. The mother-in-law had poured a drink on the bride, breaking our connection.
“Your mother can’t possibly be like that,” she said, laughing.
“Oh, but she is,” I said with doom in my voice.
She turned to face me and quirked an eyebrow. “Has she called you yet?”
“Nope. Not yet.” I paused, and the familiar tightening in my chest heightened.
I wished I had better communication with my mom. I wished we had a closer relationship, but that wasn’t how it was, and I’d accepted that we’d never have the relationship a lot of kids had with their mothers.
“I’m sure she’s so deep into her fundraising activities in Antigua that she doesn’t know what’s going on here. I don’t want to break it to her but I’ll have to.” I cringed, thinking of the fallout. My mother would be more concerned about what others would think, her social circle. And throw in the fact that my fight had made national news … that wouldn’t go too well.
Sydney narrowed her eyes in thought. “Wouldn’t she have heard about your fight all the way in Antigua?”
