Shadows leapt in his eyes. “Yes. Once before, but I had my priorities mixed up.”
“Is that the reason you moved to Positano?”
“One of them.” He took a sip of wine, his fingers still stroking Lucifer. “Do you ever want to be in love?”
A barrier shot up at the direct question. Inside, it was as if a line got crossed, and her wires imploded.
No, she didn’t.
But she refused to tackle the undercurrents of her answer, so she slid a few inches over on the couch, so they were close enough to touch if either of them reached out. “I think there are so many things better than love.” Her gaze caught his. Her head bent forward, and she felt her hair sliding lushly over her shoulder. The air grew heavy and hot. “Like passion. Grabbing a moment. Not expecting a future is a powerful thing, Hawke. A type of freedom I like to embrace. I wonder if you agree.”
Her tongue touched her lower lip. Once again, his gaze caught the gesture, but there was no pupil dilation, no intake of breath. She waited, wondering why her heart wasn’t pounding in excitement, or why there was a lack of tension coiled in her belly. No, it was as if she was more curious about his reaction than her own, and that was the most puzzling thing of all.
He looked at her directly when he spoke. “I bet there are a thousand men out there who fell in love with you, Bailey. And I think you’re an exciting woman. But it’s not what I’m looking for right now.”
His rejection didn’t even sting. The truth in his words and warmth in his eyes immediately soothed any sense of discomfort. And she realized at that moment, she hadn’t really wanted to sleep with him. It was just the way she pursued a deep connection with the male sex, the only way that she knew how to express it.
She’d never questioned her response before. It’d been easier to just go with it because it felt right. But maybe it was time to dig deeper.
“Okay.”
He laughed then, and she laughed too. “But I still want you to stay and finish your drink with me. I like talking with you.”
An actual blush heated her cheeks. “Thanks, same here. As long as it’s not the bell curve.”
“I’m sure I can come up with other topics. Now, tell me about your theater work.”
She continued their conversation with ease. He listened well, which allowed her to open up because there was no judgment—just curiosity. He asked about her sisters, and Bailey ended up telling him personal things. Pris’s current marriage struggles. The strained relationship between her and Dev she hoped to heal. The way they’d been so close and drifted so far over the past five years. It was very freeing being able to tell a relative stranger all about her family dynamics, yet feel safe doing so.
They sat and drank their wine and talked for a long time, until Lucifer began to gently snore, and sleep finally beckoned. “I better go; it’s late.”
He walked her to the door and she turned. “Thanks, Hawke. For everything.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll call or come by as soon as my uncle calls.”
She returned to the cottage, sneaking in quietly, and settled on the couch. A door shut from the hallway, and she held her breath, hoping Dev or Pris didn’t come to check on her. But the house fell into silence and she relaxed.
Bailey fell asleep feeling completely at peace, excited for the morning and what it held in store with her sisters.
chapter twenty-four
Olivia
My life soon became consumed by school, art, work, and Adam.
I returned home and told Adam simply that my boyfriend and I were taking a break. At his interested look, I quickly let him know I was hopeful to get back together after graduation and that I still wanted to be just friends. He backed off and agreed, and we continued hanging out.
Adam got me a job at an art gallery in Chelsea, and I fell in love with the unpredictability of Manhattan and the sophistication of the art world. My job became as important as my studies, and I burned the candle at both ends. The little time left I gave to Adam, for long phone conversations and dinners in Manhattan every Saturday night.
As Adam and I grew closer, the life I envisioned with Rafe began to slowly fade. I still missed him. At night, I’d imagine his dark-eyed gaze and beloved face; the way he spoke in a lilting voice; the sweet comfort offered as he wrapped me in his arms until I felt as if nothing could hurt me. I dreamed of Positano and the colored houses sprinkled over the hilltop; of hot sun and rocky beaches and the musical play of Italian drifting in the air.
But Adam was different. He pushed me toward things that scared me, believing I could do them. With each obstacle I conquered, more of my fears melted away. And though I was sometimes haunted by the thought of not seeing Rafe again, another part wondered if it was truly the type of life I was meant for long-term.
For the first time, I began to wonder if being in love was really enough.
One night, I’d finished up at the gallery and met Adam for a late-night meal. We’d taken the train in that day, so before heading to Grand Central Terminal we walked past Bryant Park. Springtime teased pedestrians with a mild early March day, so the assortment of colorful vendor booths was mobbed. Adam got us two frozen hot chocolates, and we meandered through the brightly lit space, browsing through books and candles, handmade jewelry and an assortment of crafts.
We stopped at the ice rink. Skaters crisscrossed over the smooth surface while soft music filled the air. “Let’s skate,” Adam suddenly said.
I blinked. “I don’t know how.”
“Who cares? It’s the last weekend before the rink closes. Live a little, Liv.”
It was his regular teasing remark when he dared me to do something I’d normally shy away from. Briefly, I remembered that night I skinny-dipped with Rafe, and how surprised he’d been. Rafe had never thought to change me; he accepted me exactly the way I was. But Adam created an urge to do more, be bold, grasp at the brass ring with both hands instead of comforting me when I wanted to stay home.
How could two men be completely different yet touch me so deeply?
The bolt of pain hit sharply, stealing my breath. I closed my eyes halfway and tried to deal with the sudden swirl of guilt and regret. Tears suddenly stung.
“Liv?” A warm palm cupped my cheek, tilting my head up. I looked into his golden gaze, filled with concern and something more, something that lit up my insides and replaced the fading sting of pain. “I’m sorry, I was just teasing you. We don’t have to skate.”
“That’s not it. I was thinking of someone.”
“Your ex-boyfriend?”
I shuddered at his soft question. “Yes.”