Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)(31)
Okay, that’s the second time he’s deflected a question regarding his childhood. Apparently, that means any conversation surrounding his adolescence is off the table. Interesting.
“What other adventurous things have you done?”
He takes in a deep breath, his chest expanding under his soft T-shirt. Oddly, my brain nose-dives to how nice it would feel to sink onto him and rest right there—in the crook of his shoulder. To have his arms encircle me and just hold me.
“Let’s see…during Amelia’s last world tour, I went ATV riding on the Atlantis Trail in South Africa. I’m scuba certified and have gone diving in a lot of places—but I think Mexico was my favorite. And hiking in Red Rock was awesome.”
“That’s a lot of ing words,” I say, suddenly realizing how little I’ve done in comparison to him. Once again, Will unhelpfully reads my face. He knocks his knuckles against my knee.
“There’s still time for you to do anything you want to do.”
I shrug. “I don’t think adventure is the life for me. Anyone who knows me will attest that I’m more built for a steady, safe routine. My dream is to get married to a nice man and have babies whom I can eventually pass down my flower shop to. Soccer games on the weekend and harvest parties in the fall. And all of it taking place right here in Rome. That’s my future.”
He holds my gaze and smiles softly. “Hmm.”
“What?”
He tips his head to the side. “It’s just that I’m not totally sure what you said is true.”
“It is,” I say, feeling a frown between my brows.
“Okay.”
“Really!” My voice is an octave higher than usual. “That’s what I want.”
He tips a brow, looks down, and opens his laptop. “If you say so. Now, for these lessons. Do you want to—”
I slam the laptop shut. “You really don’t believe me?”
The challenge in his smiling gaze cuts directly to mine. “No. I really don’t.”
“Why not?”
Will’s eyes feel like a caress on my face. “Because you told me not to call you Angel Annie. Because you wrestled me in your shop and then masterfully maneuvered me into being your dating coach. Because you read books about women who are pulled from their average lives and thrust into huge adventures where they thrive and find passion. Because even though you say you were relieved when you realized I lived in this old lady’s room, I could see the disappointment in your eyes.” His gaze drops to my lips, holds for two seconds, and comes back up again. “It seems to me, Annie, that you are just waiting for someone to give you permission to be yourself out loud.”
My heart trips over his words. I stay quiet. I wasn’t disappointed at the sight of his room—I was relieved. Right? Sure, I’ve had a crush on Will this whole time, but it’s not like I’m harboring any secret ambitions to be anything more than friends with him.
No, none of what he said was true. It can’t be true—because if so, then this void I’m feeling is not going to go away with the future I described to him. It’s going to get worse. And with Grandma’s health failing and so much change already happening all at once to Noah with his wedding, my family won’t be able to handle Annie having an early life crisis on top of it.
So I’m going to put his words out of my head and not dwell on them. All I need are these dating lessons so I can snag myself a husband and get married and live happily ever after just like my mom and dad. That’s it.
I look down when I feel Will’s hand gently splay across my knee. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” I say quickly, swallowing my feelings and looking up at him with the best smile I can muster. He nods slowly and turns his eyes to his laptop, opening it once again. This time I let him.
Without looking at me, he adds, “Tell you what, Annie. We’ll get you your committed relationship and your white picket fence, and if for some reason it doesn’t feel right and you want that adventure after all—” He looks at me. “Call me and I’ll come hold your hand on the flight.”
His words wrap around my heart and squeeze. And it’s in this moment that I realize BuzzFeed wasn’t able to capture the most wonderful expression I’ve seen from Will yet—tenderness.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Will
“As much as I appreciate it, you didn’t have to repair the siding, you know? Would’ve had Darell come back and fix it,” says Mabel. She’s hovering behind me in her pink pullover gown, steaming cup of coffee in hand.
“Believe me, I did.” There was no way I was going to make her pay to have something replaced that I intentionally broke. I didn’t even intend for Mabel to know I was the one who fixed it (or plans to fix it). But about five minutes ago she heard me as I attempted to fit the siding back onto the house and came marching out in her gown to ask what the hell I was doing out here at the crack of dawn. It’s around eight in the morning. Hardly dawn. But sometimes I forget that the rest of the world doesn’t share my same early morning rhythm of waking up at five and going for a jog.
Today it was raining when I woke up so I tried to stay in bed later. But then my thoughts took over and dove down every avenue I try to avoid. Like Ethan getting married to someone he barely knows, and wondering how I’m going to respond to the text he sent me before bed last night: Please don’t freeze me out. I need you during all of this.