“Okay, your comment bothered me a little bit—”
He raises a brow.
“Okay, a lot. But it’s not your fault. It just reminds me of everything I missed out on that others have experienced. Growing up the way I did left much to be desired for.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad because you haven’t traveled. Especially not because of your circumstance.”
“It’s okay. No big deal.” I smile.
He bites down on his bottom lip in a way that isn’t meant to be sexy but is hot enough to break a glass thermometer. “So… What did you used to enjoy doing in your free time besides working?”
Great. He’s trying to be polite and I’m here lusting after him. “Besides embroidering? I mean, I don’t exactly have much free time to begin with.”
“Tell me more about that then.”
I rear back in my chair in surprise, banging my head against the headrest like a dork. “What do you want to know?”
“For starters, how did you get into that kind of hobby?”
“Well, I used to have some anger issues.”
“I find that very hard to believe.” He attempts to keep a straight face but laughs anyway.
“It’s true.” I punch him in the arm for emphasis.
He only laughs harder.
“So my social worker took me to the hobby store one day after an incident.” I shiver at the reminder of the day I lost my mom, my home, and my last ounce of innocence. “She told me I could pick anything from the store, but I had to agree it would be my outlet for my emotions rather than anything physical.”
“And what made you pick that?”
“She thought it would help for me to stab something. The needle seemed like a safe option.”
Santiago’s laugh bounces off the roof of the car. “I would’ve never guessed you had this much pent-up aggression.”
“I was pretty mad at the world as a teenager.”
His smile drops. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It is what is.”
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Make everything seem like it’s okay?”
I shrug. “Because it is. I can’t do anything to change the past, so why continue to let it bother me?”
He nods and focuses his attention back on the road. The lakeside town disappears as we drive through the winding roads toward Monza.
“Are you any good at it?” He breaks the silence.
“Embroidering?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not one to show off, but I’m wearing one of the pieces I made now.” I point down at my embroidered T-shirt. It’s a basic pocket tee, with a bunch of multicolored dainty flowers designed above the pocket. It was a total nightmare to design, but I love it all the more because of how hard it was to make.
“Wow. I thought you bought that.”
I shake my head, hiding my smile. “No. I like designing pieces like this.”
“Have you ever thought of selling them to the public?”
I snort. “Not really. I’ve never had the time or money to start my own Etsy shop.”
“Would you be interested? If you had time, that is?”
I pause and consider it. Thinking up designs feeds the creative side I’ve neglected throughout the years while overworking myself. I love the thrill I get when drawing out my creations on the fabric and bringing them to life. The peace from the process and the sense of accomplishment once the piece is done is another bonus.
I love it all. From beginning to end.
“I mean, in a perfect world where I had limitless money and didn’t have to work as much, sure. But the world is far from flawless, so I’ll stick to the things I know will support me.”
“You should consider making more time for your hobby.”
“Why?”
“Because if you love something enough to smile like you are right now, then you should pursue it before it’s too late.”
I press a hand to my lips. “I don’t have the time.”
“And you never will if you keep finding reasons not to.”
Whoa. Here I’ve been pushing Santiago out of his comfort zone, only to have him do the same. Santiago is embroidering himself into my skin like the designs I love so much, and I’m not exactly sure what I’m going to do about it.
25
Santiago
I regret agreeing to visit my family at the Monza track. It takes everything in me to step out of my car after the road trip from Lake Como. The valet workers don’t leave me with much of a choice as they take over, grabbing our luggage from the back. I pull my cap low on my face as I take a deep breath of the fresh air.