Page 50 of Chasing Home
“Most of the time.”
“There’s still time to open your horizons and experiment. I’m always up to share some of my insight with interested parties.”
“Oh? And how many interested parties have you shared this insight with?” I ask, the question sounding just the slightest bit jealous.
He doesn’t seem to mind. Not if the obvious twinkle in his eye as he sets one foot on the bottom stair and leans closer is anything to go off.
“Give or take about . . . six.”
“Six?” I squeak, my jaw hanging open. “That’s it?”
He tips his head. “Yeah, darlin’. Six. That alright with you?”
“Why shouldn’t it be? You can add another six tonight for all I care.”
My outer shell grows thick as I retreat back a few mental steps, focusing on not flinching at my ultra-bitchy comment. He doesn’t need to ask me those sorts of questions. He shouldn’t.
My stomach sours thinking of hurting this man’s feelings, but damn it all to hell, I can’t do this. It’s better to stop playing into it right now.
I expect Johnny to look hurt by my words or maybe even just put off. But no. I find him leaping up the steps and moving toward me with a soft yet determined expression. His gaze is gentle and calm and unexpecting as it caresses my face.
“Even if I could physically tear myself away from you long enough to go add six to my tally, I couldn’t get there mentally,” he says, standing so close the toes of his boots touch my sandals. My breath hitches when he takes my hand in his, the calluses on his palm scratching my skin. “Been only one woman on my mind since I saw her, and I’ve been tryin’ to impress her tonight, but maybe I haven’t done a good enough job yet.”
“You have,” I blurt out before lowering my voice and repeating myself. “You have. I’m just not the one for you.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Why should you believe otherwise? I’ve given you nothing.”
He wets his lips and reaches up to remove his hat. His hair is wild, sticking up and parted a million different ways. Like him, I realize.
Without the hat, he doesn’t appear as tall and intimidating. Even still, as he has to dip his chin to meet my eye, I don’t feel like he’s a million feet above me.
“I’ve got three sisters, two moms, and have watched more fairy tales than anyone in their right mind. Love at first sight isn’t a taboo topic for me. It isn’t hard to believe in. Romance doesn’t scare me or intimidate me. It never has. And do you know what I felt the first time I saw you, Aurora?”
I shake my head, unable to speak. Too scared to. He moves impossibly closer and drops the hat before resting his hand on the wall behind me. I hadn’t realized I’d backed up against it.
My pulse thrums in my ears as he drops his head, and I bring mine back, my throat arched.
“I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. You were sittin’ at that table with your fingers tapping the way they do when you’re nervous or uncomfortable, and I knew I needed to get over to you. The woman with the sad but fuckin’ prettiest eyes I’d ever seen. I followed the tug I felt between us and only needed one minute with you to know that I made the right choice.”
“I don’t believe in love at first sight,” I say on a breath.
“No? Alright. So you didn’t feel anything with me that night? When I had you in my arms as we swayed between tables? Because you could have shoved me away at any time. God knows I’d have let you go without a fight if that’s what you wanted. I did let you go.”
That night was a blur of loud laughter, friendly conversation, and an undeniable discomfort that I felt the entire time sitting at that table. I didn’t know the people I was with, and they intimidated me with their closeness to one another. I was an outsider that didn’t know how to accept their welcome.
But then Johnny came over, and I just . . . I slipped. Suddenly, the thoughts in my mind had quieted, and I let myself get swept into the peace that he brought me during those few dances. He was comfortable and familiar in a way that had me running away the moment I pulled myself back together and realized what was happening.
It was terrifying. And every time I see him or speak with him, I feel that fear again. Because men like Johnny don’t stay in your life for a moment in time.
They stay there forever.
I was smart enough to recognize that that night, and I’ve reminded myself of it every day since.
Johnny exhales, the heat of his breath blanketing my nose. He traces every dip of my knuckles with his thumb and holds my fingers against his chest.
“I see all of those thoughts running through your pretty head, Rory, but I want to hear them. Tell me no—a real no—and I’ll leave right now. I’ll back up and let you find your father without me complicating anything. But if you tell me yes, I’m jumping in headfirst.