Chapter 7 #2
Heat flooded my cheeks, but I tried to squash it.
I opened and closed my mouth, staring back into his eyes.
My plans to leave fled as I followed him through the park, as if he somehow hypnotized me into following him.
We wandered past lots of things, but we didn’t stop at any of them, not even the balloons.
Only once we came to a lake did he stop so I could take in the view.
The sheer beauty of it made me catch my breath again, but heat still stained my cheeks.
I hadn’t known the city hid such natural beauty, so I focused my attention on the safer landscape.
Is it manmade? I didn’t know. Regardless, I couldn’t deny the gorgeousness of the view.
Wandering along the fence, my fingers trailing over the metal, I took in the scene around me.
Benches were spaced along the perimeter, offering plenty of comfortable spots to rest. Music drifted through the air like an enchantment.
A child and his father pointed at a small remote-controlled boat on the water, as if it wasn’t working properly.
There is a lot of life here.
I let out a breath. This was it—the thing I’d been searching for in the city without realizing it, the piece I didn’t know was missing.
“It’s my favorite place in the park.” He nodded toward one of the benches. “Let’s sit.”
I smirked as I followed him. “Julian was right. He said you and Jeremy like to be in charge.”
“Yes, but they don’t listen to us. Just because I like to give orders doesn’t mean that anyone gives a shit most of the time. It helps that I only tell them what to do to help them get through our lives. It’s complicated.”
They kept saying that. It is complicated .
I should ask what they meant, but instead, I just watched the water.
I closed my eyes and let the sound of distant laughter wash over me.
Inhaling, I smelled a hot dog or spiced meat nearby, and musical notes drifted on the air behind it all.
When I caught a whiff of the clean scent of the guy next to me, my eyes popped open again.
It wasn’t like I should have a problem with Barrett keeping me away from the twins—I decided that more time with them wasn’t in my best interest. So why am I being snarky and letting him bug me?
I swallowed. It was easier to be the person saying no than being told no, so maybe my frustration was simply because of his orders?
“Look …” I shook my head, as if I could clear out my wandering thoughts so easily.
“I don’t know why I’m saying this, but I have to admit I agree with you.
I shouldn’t be friends with your brothers, but probably not for the same reasons you have.
Regardless, I don’t disagree with you because it’s true.
I’ll leave them alone, and you can go back to the Hamptons.
All you have to do is tell them to steer clear of me, because I’m not the one intentionally getting in their way. ”
He tilted his head again, his expression curious. “You assume I think they shouldn’t hang out with you because you’re poor.”
That isn’t what he’s supposed to say . Still, I shrugged, refusing to cower just because he said the quiet part aloud. “Yes.”
“That’s just wrong. To start with, you’re making assumptions about me that aren’t based in fact.
I suppose I did the same thing to you, if I’m being fair.
Still, I promise, I’m not here to stop you from being friends with my brothers.
I’m honestly curious, so I came to see why they fell so hard for you, both at once.
When things like that happen to members of my family, we take note. Or at least some of us do.”
It felt like they were all constantly hedging vaguely about Phoenix without mentioning him. What did that mean and why?
“When Julian practically waxed poetic about you over text, Jeremy came to see what was up. I stayed behind, because Jeremy can handle Julian’s overenthusiastic nature and temper just fine, twin to twin, without my interference.
It goes better that way.” He still stared ahead.
“When Jeremy said that Julian hadn’t done you justice, it caught my eye.
That’s how it works in my family, sometimes.
We live unique lives, so we’re careful about who gets to see the real deal. ”
My cheeks heated again. They said that much nice stuff about me?
Why? I noticed his use of the phrase the real deal …
I used it myself in my stream. I knew what it meant.
“So, it isn’t friendship, it’s us potentially dating that concerns you.
Look, I can ease your mind there, there’s no chance of that.
I’m leaving soon. I told them, but maybe you’ll understand what I mean better.
I have no control over my life right now.
I’m going to be sent away. Once I get control again someday, I intend to make a life for myself, one far away from the places I’ve been forced to exist. The important part is you don’t have to worry, because there won’t be romance. Okay?”
He grunted. “You want my takes? I like how you bluntly asked if it was because you were poor. That’s honesty.
You were wrong, but it was hard to ask, and I appreciate the courage it took to say it.
I’m amused because you still think you shouldn’t be their friend.
I’m noticing you don’t talk much because you’re not afraid of silence, but you’re willing to speak out about tough things. ”
I turned my gaze from the lake to stare at the hardness of his profile.
Because of his sunglasses, I couldn’t see his brown eyes.
I always thought it was stupid when a superhero wore a mask and no one recognized them.
How could the creator of the series believe one small mask over the eyes could do all that?
Despite my theory on visibility, glasses or no glasses, I couldn’t read his expression right then.
He just seemed high cheek boned, hard, and gorgeous—not that I minded the view.
Instead of admitting that , I asked, “So why don’t you want me to be their friend?”
A muscle ticked in one of those high cheekbones. “If I thought all they wanted from you was friendship, I would love it. I think you could be great for them. Everyone else kisses their rear ends, but it takes a particular woman to date a Lent. If they scare off easily, then they aren’t the one.”
My eyes rolled before I thought better of it, and I sputtered out, “Well, I mean, obviously no one would date both of them. That would be … I don’t know … not done?” I shook my head, baffled that he would even suggest such a thing. “I’m leaving.”
He took my hand for a moment, and I went still as electricity zipped from the point of contact down to my heels, then surged back up to race my heart and cloud my thoughts.
His thumb stroked my palm, sending shivers of anticipation through me before he let go—leaving my body humming with chaos.
His voice made me tremble as he said, “You might be surprised at what manner of things can be done, if the motivation is there.”
I sucked in a shivery breath, trying to recover my sanity.
I recognized the notes of music drifting through the park abruptly.
My uncle in San Francisco loved jazz, calling the specific genre cool jazz, so I recognized the song.
Usually played by a band or a bunch of musicians, it took on a very different tone when played by a solo guitarist, the straining notes almost haunting.
Despite never enjoying cool jazz or the song before, I liked it in New York.
It felt or hit different there? Or maybe I am different.
The lobby. Here. It’s speaking to me .
“I love Concierto de Aranjuez ,” I admitted aloud, not intending to change the topic, but I smiled and shook my head.
I would listen to another version of the song when I worked on Poor Relation later.
I needed to publish by the next morning to stay on track.
Despite my schedule being self-imposed, I stuck to it and didn’t like to be late with my uploads.
The move had thrown me off. I needed to get back to work.
Barrett jerked in his seat. “You recognize the song?”
“I do.” I paused, wondering if I should keep my mouth shut. I really couldn’t, so I asked, “Why is that surprising?”
He smiled again, but it didn’t seem to take him as long or as much strain to do it.
“Before you suggest it’s because I think you’re poor, just don’t bother.
It’s because literally no one else in my life knows anything about jazz.
Me? I’m quasi-obsessed. That’s the word that my brothers would use, anyway. ”
I found his freely offered personal insight interesting.
“I don’t have that much experience with jazz, if I’m being honest. I’m going to stream this song, though, tonight.
My uncle listened to it—he actually introduced me to the music—but my understanding hasn’t expanded since then.
Not really. But this song I know. I’ve never heard it played by only one guitar.
It’s beautiful how they managed to capture not just the melody, but somehow the rhythm of the song, too. ”
“I agree,” he said, and the huskiness of his voice surprised me.
I swallowed fast and glanced around, but I couldn’t see the musician. He— maybe it is a she? —must be relatively close, but I couldn’t spot them. How far does noise travel?
I closed my eyes again, letting the music wash over me with the scents and the warm sunshine, while studiously not thinking about Barrett.