I toss an edge piece into his pile. “I think I am.”
“Nothing like the nerdy doctor charming the popular girl.”
“Popular girl? No, that’s not me.”
He laughs. “You were easily the popular girl growing up. Even as a senior, I knew you were the popular girl. Everyone loved you, and there was a reason—you were so outgoing and fun. You made a bloody nose during kickball the new trend.”
“Stop.” I laugh. “That’s not true.”
“Seriously, though, you were the it girl.” He connects two pieces together and pushes them to the side. “I honestly was surprised you even talked to me at times.”
“Why would you say that?” I ask, confused. Did he not know who he was? Need I remind him . . . Beau Novak, the accomplished, handsome, and beautifully sweet boy.
“Because I was kind of on my own path. I didn’t hang with the popular crowd. Kind of buried in my books.”
“But that’s what I thought was so great about you. You didn’t care what others thought, while I was super concerned with what everyone thought of me. Seeing you during lunch, leaning up against a tree, your hair falling over your brow, a book in your hand . . .” I shrug. “Drove me crazy.”
His hand pauses as he slowly turns toward me. I keep my eyes focused on the puzzle pieces as my confession rocks my nerves. I can’t believe I just admitted that to him.
“Drove you crazy? As in . . . ?”
How could he not know? How can he really be this clueless?
Did he not notice all the times I looked at him longingly while he was at the store? How I fumbled my words when he was around?
Every instinct begs me to change the subject, but because I honestly think I’ve lost my mind, I clear my throat. “As in, you know, like, a crush.”
Now he shifts on the couch and truly faces me. “You had a crush on me in high school? Like, an actual crush?” He shakes his head. “There’s no way that’s true.”
I nod slowly. “Oh, it’s true. I had the biggest crush on you.” I finally look at him. “I thought you were so fascinating, so different from everyone else, and that captured me.”
“You’re not just saying that?” he asks.
I shake my head. He reaches out and touches my chin, bringing my eyes to his. I swallow hard when I see the way his irises grow darker from the connection of our gazes.
“I had a crush on you. A terrible one,” he says, pulling all the air from my lungs. “Why do you think I was always in the store? Especially whenever I visited from college. Anything to catch a glimpse.”
“Seriously?” I ask, my stomach now doing somersaults.
“Oh yeah. I had it bad.” He wets his lips. “Really fucking bad.”
“I . . . uh . . . I didn’t realize.”
He pulls on the back of his neck and glances over my shoulder. “That night, the night of the fire, I was actually walking over to the store because I heard you were going to be there. I was going to ask you out on a date.”
My mouth falls open as I fully turn toward him. “You were?”
“Yeah. I was only there for a few days, but I couldn’t go back to school without knowing what it was like to take you out. Never got the chance, and then by the time I was able to make it home again, you’d taken off.”
Talk about completely shocked. I would never have thought that someone like Dr. Beau Novak would even look my way. He’s so down to earth, so grounded, and I’m . . . well . . . I’m a train wreck. What does he even see in me?
“What are you thinking?” he asks. “I can see a shift in your body language. Did I say too much?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. I’m just . . . surprised is all. You’re so great,” I say, speaking the truth. “You have so much going for you. You’re levelheaded, a good person, an intelligent man with drive and purpose. What could you have possibly seen in someone like me? Someone who’s broke, homeless, and makes bad decisions involving wine?”
He smiles softly. “Your smile can brighten anyone’s mood. And your spirit—it’s vibrant, passionate, addictive. You’re a ray of light on the darkest of days, and maybe you’ve made some decisions that didn’t pan out in the past, but you’re also so brave, so daring, that it makes me want to try new things, to put myself out there.”
“Why don’t I feel like any of those things?” I ask.
“Because you’ve cast a veil of doubt over yourself. It just needs to be lifted by the right person,” he answers.