Tempt Our Fate (Sutten Mountain, #2)(60)
“Of course I want to know the answer. Did you want to be an astronaut, or were you dead set on selling other people’s art from a young age?”
I chew the pizza. Despite the cheesy—no pun intended—name for the pizza place, the pizza is actually phenomenal. It’s far greasier than I typically choose to eat, but I like indulging. I like breaking my own rules for her—even if it’s just in the form of opting for something not high in nutritional value for the night because pizza excited her, and I like to see her happy.
“My answer might be far more depressing than you like, shortcake,” I answer honestly. My childhood wasn’t terrible in the way that some others deal with. But it wasn’t happy. I didn’t know a parent’s love. And even though I got every material thing I could’ve ever wanted, I didn’t get the one thing I needed—for my parents to actually love and care about me.
“Tell me anyway?” She sets her pizza slice down and leans forward, hanging on to whatever I’m about to say.
“To be honest, I didn’t look to my future imagining a career. I just pictured myself away from my parents, doing something that would upset them because I felt like that was just a little slice of karma.”
“So you never had an outrageous childhood aspiration? Like becoming a marine biologist or a knight or something?”
I shake my head, running my palms along her shins. She changed into a pair of leggings, creating a thin barrier of fabric between us. “I was forced to be a tiny adult as a child. I didn’t have a childhood. I was dressed in tuxes by the time I was two and was scolded if I got something like paint or a splatter of ketchup on the expensive fabric. I was placed in art classes from the moment I could hold a pencil. My tutors didn’t believe in childhood play. I didn’t know what it was like to have adolescent dreams.”
A tiny line appears on her forehead as her face develops into a frown. “That’s so incredibly depressing.”
“If it wasn’t for my gran, I truly don’t think I would’ve known what love was at a young age.”
“Then tell me about her.”
My head falls against the cushions behind me. I don’t realize I’m doing it, but my thumbs work the muscles of her calves as I try to think of what to tell Pippa. Before I made friends in school, the only person I knew actually cared about me was my gran. She’s my everything, and I don’t know how to explain to someone who doesn’t know her how incredible of a human she is.
“You’d love her,” I toss out, imagining the trouble the two of them would cause. The things I find endearing about Pippa are the same qualities Gran has. “She’s incredibly sassy, always speaking her mind, even if no one asked.”
Pippa laughs. “I already love her.”
“I’ve always looked up to the way she doesn’t take shit from anyone. She’s unbothered by other people’s opinions of her, and it’s something I admire.”
“Is she your mom’s mom or father’s mom?”
“She’s my father’s mother, even though she isn’t proud to say it. As I’ve gotten older, she’s told me how her only regret in life is feeling like she didn’t do enough to prepare my dad for being a good father.”
Pippa nods. I like that she really listens to me. Her entire body is facing mine, and even though she looks at the ceiling instead of making eye contact, I know it’s just because she’s thinking deeply about what I’m saying.
“I’m sorry you didn’t know the love you deserved from a mother. But I’m glad your gran was there for you.”
“She’s pretty incredible. One time, she brought a stray cat into my parents’ brownstone and let it loose during one of their fancy parties because she thought it’d be hilarious.”
Pippa gasps. “No she didn’t.”
“She sure did.” The look of horror on the crowd’s faces will forever be ingrained in my mind. I think it was because I’d told Gran how my dad had yelled at me for breaking a dish an hour before the party. I was trying to make myself useful—trying to get the favor of my parents—and thought I could help set up. Instead, my little hands couldn’t hold all the plates I’d tried to grab, one of them tumbling to the ground and shattering all over the formal dining room’s floor.
“She let the cat loose in the house, pretending to have no idea how it got there. As the cat was wreaking havoc on the party, she’d told my parents she was taking me for the week, and then she let me stay with her for two weeks before I’d told her it was time I probably went home.”
“I’d love to meet her one day,” Pippa confesses, pulling her eyes from mine like she’s embarrassed by saying that.
I squeeze her leg, wanting to reassure her. “I’m terrified of the trouble the two of you could cause, but I’d love for you to meet her.”
All I want to do is kiss her. I don’t need anything else but to feel the press of her lips against mine. To feel the fireworks throughout my entire body as I taste her little moans and sighs as my tongue coaxes her lips open. I wouldn’t need to do anything else, knowing she must not feel good from being sick. I’ve been a good man today. I’ve shown far more restraint than I ever have in my life, but the restraint is running out.
There’s nothing more I want for myself than to claim Pippa’s lips again.