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“Fine. Let’s go and sit where you won’t be accosted by roving eyes.” I wink at Rosie and grab my glass.
She flips me the bird and I laugh while sliding into a seat in the corner of the bar.
Aaron slides across from me and sets his glass down. The whisky inside sloshes a little with the motion.
“So. You and Tyler.”
“Maybe me and Tyler,” I correct.
“Maybe?” He laughs. “There’s no maybe about it. You know as well as I do you two are more than a maybe.”
“Just because we’re more than a maybe doesn’t mean we have to be. Our feelings don’t always have to define our actions. Yes, I like him. I like him a whole lot more than like, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea for me to pursue a relationship with him.”
Aaron sips his drink slowly, his blue eyes leveled on mine. “That’s true. On the other hand, it doesn’t mean it’s a good idea for you not to. For someone so impulsive, you’re sure thinking this through a lot.”
“I’m impulsive with shoes, wine, and jobs. I’m not impulsive with my heart.”
“Perhaps that’s your problem. You and Day are so alike in that respect. When I found her again…” He sighs and shakes his head. “Call me a fucking pussy, but it was like everything in my life was right again. Like it all made sense just by looking in her eyes—and I still feel like that. Hell, Liv, she felt like that. But she fought me every damn step of the way. She kept fighting even when she knew she’d lost. If she’d just stopped, for one moment, she would have seen that we made sense.”
“But she did. In the end.”
“After a few mountain-sized bumps and a fuck-ton of groveling on both our parts, yes. My point is that you’re doing the same with Tyler. You’re fighting everything when anyone can see that you two are good for each other. Stop thinking for five minutes and you’ll see it, too.”
I snort. “We’re not good for each other, Aaron. We’re the very worst thing either of us could have.”
“Sometimes you need the worst to bring out the best in you.” He puts his glass down again. “Look, I know you had a rough time a few years ago. Just like I refuse to tell Dayton about Tyler’s past, she refuses to tell me about yours. I wish we would tell each other, because it would make this a whole lot easier.”
“I don’t know his past and he doesn’t know mine.”
“Because you’re refusing to talk about it. Yeah, we talk. Just because we’re guys doesn’t mean we don’t talk about this shit. I called him a hundred times with Dayton—he’s more like my brother than anything. I know how he feels about you, Liv. He’s told me. And let me tell you, if you’d asked me six months ago if I ever thought he’d be this serious about a woman, I would have laughed at you.” His lips twitch. “I did laugh when he told me. I thought he was kidding, but he isn’t.”
“It’s not just a snap decision. I can’t clap my hands together and know. I’m not holding off to protect myself. I’m doing it to protect him.”
“Tyler’s a big boy. He can protect himself. I’ve seen him do it several times.”
I put my face in my hands then run my fingers through my hair. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m afraid to commit. There we go. I don’t know why I’m admitting it to you, but I’m afraid of the thing he wants.”
“The only way to beat your fears is to face them. Listen to me.” He rests his hand over mine on the table. “Day said your parents live nearby. Go and stay with them for a night. Get out of Seattle and be in a place where you can make your decision. It’s not fair to either of you.”
“I know.” I blink back a set of tears. Fucking things. “Will you tell Tyler where I am?”
“No. I’ll tell him you’ve gone out of town for a night, and that’s it.”
I nod. Going to visit my parents isn’t such a bad idea. I haven’t seen them in a few months, and maybe Aaron’s right. It could be exactly what I need.
Plus, I’ll have my mom. And despite her unnecessary worrying about my seeing a man in the mafia, she’s my mom.
And twenty-five or not, every girl needs their mom.
I sink into my dad’s embrace. Warm and familiar with the gentle scent of cigar smoke, it comforts me instantly. This will always be home—in his arms.
“Princess,” he says happily. “You didn’t say you were coming!”
I pull back and smile. “I didn’t know. It was an impulse thing.”
“Liv? Is that Liv?” Mom’s voice filters through the house. She gasps in delight and practically shoves Dad out of the way to get to me. “Baby! You’re home!”
“Hey…Mom,” I choke out as she squeezes me tight. Shit, the woman is fifty-two with the grip of a wrestler.
