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After I swallowed that first bite, I held up the chicken strip and confessed, “Okay, you’re right. It would have been a shame if I missed out on this.”
“I’m glad you like it. There’s plenty more, so help yourself.”
For the next few minutes, Griffin and I both focused on our food. Well, on the surface, that was how it looked. Inside, I was freaking out.
Because with the way Griffin was acting and the fact that he kept shooting amused looks my way, I didn’t think it’d be possible for me to survive this… what was this? It wasn’t supposed to be a date. I mean, we were at a ski resort. But I had asked him to have dinner, because I’d wanted to thank him, and Griffin wound up paying for our meal. So, now I wasn’t quite sure what was happening.
“Did you get any good shots?” he asked, his voice interrupting my thoughts.
“I’m sorry. What?”
“With your camera,” he clarified. “When I went into my camper yesterday afternoon to have lunch, I watched you take some photos. You seemed very focused, so I was just curious if you had a chance to look at them.”
“Oh. Yeah, I reviewed them earlier today when I wasn’t staring out the window, making sure I didn’t miss you when you returned from snowboarding,” I started, trying to ignore that he’d just admitted to watching me from inside his camper. “I guess they were okay. I don’t know. I have a hard time evaluating my own work and not thinking it’s total crap.”
Griffin let out a laugh. “Why are we like that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Humans, in general. I think, for the most part, we’re all super critical of ourselves and the things we do, never believing it’s good enough, that it can always be better, or that we’ve done something wrong,” he replied.
I shrugged, troubled by how much I could relate to what he was saying. “Human nature, I guess.”
“Probably. Though, in a way, I guess it’s good, since it’s that inkling of doubt that probably pushes us all to be better in some way or another,” he reasoned.
I couldn’t argue with that, so I didn’t.
But Griffin took advantage of my silence and said, “I’ll give you my honest opinion, if you’d like.”
“Of my pictures?” I asked.
He nodded. “Sure. Why not?”
Holding my chicken sandwich in my hand just a bit too tightly, I bit my lip. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“What if you think they’re terrible? You’ll crush all of my hopes and dreams of ever becoming a real photographer,” I noted.
The silence stretched between us briefly as a wide smile lit up Griffin’s handsome face. “I’m not going to think they’re terrible,” he promised. “Besides, how can you ever become a professional photographer if you aren’t willing to show your work to someone?”
He made a valid point, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t terrified at the thought of showing them to him.
“We’ll see. Maybe after we finish dinner, I can show them to you,” I told him, hoping he’d forget all about them. And since I wanted to make sure there was a chance for that to happen, I realized I needed to steer the conversation in another direction and take the heat off of me. “So, you mentioned your mom thinks you’re a daredevil, and I don’t really need confirmation from you on the accuracy of that statement, since you can manage to spend an entire day on the mountain snowboarding, but I’m curious about something else.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Is there anything you’re afraid of?”
I didn’t know why I asked the question when I had a feeling I was going to be disappointed by the answer. There was no doubt I knew how I wanted him to answer, but I had to be realistic. It wasn’t going to happen.
I was desperately hoping there would be something,anything, he’d say he was worried about, only so I could use it to justify wanting to continue to allow my heart to win the battle, so I could spend more time with him. If he indicated to me that he felt cautious about anything, maybe there would be a reason to hope.
“Well, I guess there is one thing,” Griffin revealed.
My brows shot up in surprise, and my hands, still holding my chicken sandwich, froze halfway to my mouth. I lowered the sandwich, sat up a little straighter, and pressed, “There is?”
There wasn’t a chance of missing the shock in my tone.
