AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Where are we going?” I ask, happy just to be sitting in his passenger seat.
“Thought we could drive over to Truesdale and walk the canal? That has the best views, and there is this little island we can walk onto because the water is shallow enough. Plus, I thought we could talk where no one in the Hope Crest rumor mill would hear us.”
Obviously, we still haven’t spoken about what our sleeping together means. What would come next. I understand his hesitation to make it known in town, and this doesn’t feel like it had before when I’d given Patrick shit about keeping even a friendly banter between us a secret.
This feels like he’s taking us out of town so we can lay it all out and discuss our fears and the uncomfortable stuff without being overheard or judged before we’re possibly ready to go public ourselves.
“Sounds good to me.” I try not to squee like a teenager when Patrick starts to reverse and lays his hand on my thigh.
It feels so old-hat, like he’s been doing it forever. Just watching him command the wheel and keep ahold of me at the same time … yeah, that does dangerous things south of my waist.
“How was your day?” he asks.
“Good. I’m volunteering over at the playhouse, doing some workshops with the younger actors. I’m just starting but it’s been really nice so far.” It’s hard not to study his gorgeous profile.
Patrick seems to notice this and turns briefly to smirk at me before those blue eyes focus back on the road. “Sounds like something you’d be perfect for. Do you coach other actors in LA at all? I know you mentioned you haven’t taken a project in a while.”
I’d forgotten that little tidbit I’d dropped when Patrick came to fix my house up after the break-in. “Uh, yeah. I mean, I don’t coach out there, but yes, I haven’t taken a project in a while. I don’t know if I’m … promise this stays between us. But I don’t know if I’m really going to take a project again, well, ever.”
The shock on his face is the same kind I imagine would be on thousands of people if they knew what I’d just told him. “Really? How come? I’m really surprised. Not to boost your ego to the stratosphere, but you’re phenomenal.”
A blush creeps up my neck and spreads over my cheeks. “Thank you. I love acting, I really do. I love diving into a character. But like I told you, I hate the other nonsense that comes with it. Spending time at the playhouse, even as minimally as I’ve been there, feels so much more authentic to me. It proves that I love acting and theater and stories, and I can do those things without having to fit this persona my career has created.”
“You don’t think you’ll miss it?” He’s listening, not commenting, and it feels good to vent these feelings.
“I haven’t in a year. Maybe one day I will, but I can always go back, right? In some capacity. I feel like I got too far into this life without knowing that I was never meant for it at all. And one day I woke up, knowing in my heart I didn’t want it anymore.”
Patrick blinks away from the road, studying me, and then focuses back. “Then I’m glad you didn’t stay at a place in your life where you felt unhappy. Far too many people do that, only to be disappointed with how much time they’ve wasted.”
Sounds like he’s speaking from experience, and for the first time, I wonder if the prince isn’t happy in his kingdom. “Have you done that?”
“Too many times.” He smiles, but there is a tinge of sadness there.
Our conversation is cut off when we pull into a gravel lot with trees surrounding us. I follow as Patrick gets out, and he waits for me to stand beside him before taking off for the red dirt path below.
The canal runs from town to town along the Delaware River, connecting all of these beautiful river valley municipalities. Lush greenery, the sound of trickling water, and the backyards of enormous estates hidden from the frontage road. They can only be seen via the miles-long walk on the dirt canal path, and as we walk, I marvel at them.
That probably sounds strange, considering I own one of these estates back in Los Angeles, but that’s different. In Hollywood, showing off your wealth is the name of the game. Even if famous people say they want privacy, being relevant is their top priority. So photos of their million-dollar home renovation are leaked, or some architecture magazine does a full six-page spread on the design of their home. You’re stacked on top of each other, competing for the coolest features and views.
Here though? These homes are priceless because they can’t be duplicated. Who in Hollywood can say they renovated a stone-built mansion that our first president passed through with his troops? Where would you find an estate with such privacy that no other soul passes us on the towpath? Where little tributaries of water shoot off, making the perfect setting to plop a kayak in the water and explore for hours.
This place is magical and being here with Patrick only adds to theSecret Garden-type sorcery I feel as we walk deeper and deeper into the woods.
“So, about what’s going on between us …” He nervously looks over at me as the water rushes by next to us.
“Just going to jump right in there, huh?” I’m just as nervous, and I hope it shows.
I’ve been around so many people who fake their emotions, and I don’t want that at all when it comes to Patrick. Or anyone else I choose to add to my life at this point.
“We slept together, I think we’re past the point of beating around the bush, huh?” He raises his eyebrows.
“I could make a bush joke right now, but that seems crass and obvious,” I deadpan.
At that, Patrick cracks up, his steps stuttering. “Just when I think I know what you’re going to say or do, you do the exact opposite.”
“Just trying to lighten the mood. But yes, we did. And it was amazing, just so you know.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Good to know I’m not the only one who hasn’t stopped thinking about it for one second.”
