13. Chapter Ten #2
I take a deeper sip of my wine, nodding.
“I’m great with numbers. I can also say the ABCs backward,” I tell him confidently and he grins.
“Tell me something real?” I don’t know why I request it.
Wine makes me brave—a lot braver than sober me.
Something about this feels so natural and I wonder if he knows he has this effect on people.
One minute he’s intimidating and the next it feels so easy to be around him.
I could sit here with him in this apartment for days and that should scare me, but it doesn’t.
Well, at least not with wine in my system.
Taking a deep breath, his eyes fall to the floor in thought. “I’ve been working on a big project for nearly three years now and it’s gotten close to nowhere. I think I’ve been successful for so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to fail at something.”
My head tilts. “What’s the project?”
He tosses me a curious look. “Has Carter told you anything about my past?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t know you existed until you caught me in my underwear.”
The faintest pink tints the tips of his ears and something warm bubbles inside of me at the sight. Is there a chance that I have the same effect on him as he does on me ?
He grabs the half-eaten bowl of pasta next to him and holds it in his lap. His eyes stay there too. “I was eight when I went into foster care.”
I tense, my heart constricting and my mind already racing to the things I’ve said to this man. If I had known. . .
“There are so many people that don't know what that’s like and they don’t care to learn more about what children go through.
They don’t know what it’s like to feel like a chess piece being played with unskillful hands.
Yeah, some kids are lucky—and I mean that very loosely—when they find a good foster family, but more are thrown into unfortunate situations than not. ”
He shakes his head as if he’s trying to push away a memory.
“Alone is the scariest place to be. Everyone’s in survival mode and even as you get older, it’s hard to turn that instinct off.
It’s either eat or be eaten. When I was little, I would have done anything for a light at the end of the tunnel—anything for a little peace.
I’ve traveled Europe and studied art and architecture for the thrill of it because it was just something I could do.
It made me realize that I had fallen into the category of the people I despised. ”
My eyes start to well with tears and I set down my bowl to wipe under my eyes.
He finally looks at me. “It’s why I’m starting The Prince Foundation.
I designed it to adapt foster kids to a different way of life and expression.
So many of them need a few stepping stones, but what I’m trying to do is build them the stairs.
I want them to have equal opportunity, but trying to get investors to invest in future tuition for potential employees is a lot harder than I expected.
Abigail thinks they’d take me more seriously if I was married and cheating on my wife—though I think she was joking.
There’s a part of me that just wants to give up, but I know I never could for the one kid that needs it. ”
“Julian,” I say gently, my voice croaky. “That’s. . .”
“A lot, I know and I’m sorry for unloading that on you.” He looks ashamed almost like he thinks he’s overshared.
I quickly shake my head. “No, Julian. It’s amazing what you’re trying to do.”
His eyes squint. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” I smile softly, sniffling. “I think that maybe you’re one of the greatest people I’ve ever met.”
He laughs this time, looking at me like I’m spewing nonsense. “That’s the wine talking.”
I shrug. “Possibly, but I’ll tell you again tomorrow to prove that it’s not.”
Happy with this, he relaxes and finally resumes eating his pasta. With a mouth full, he points his fork at me. “You know, I’m starting to realize why Carter never introduced us.”
“Why’s that?”
Smirking, he says, “He knew I’d end up liking you more than him.”
Laughter bubbles out of my throat. “I think you might be onto something.” I shake my head, feigning disappointment. “What a crime of fate that our paths haven’t crossed until now.”
He tips his wine glass toward me. “Indeed, Andrea.”
A shiver rolls through me at the way he says my name. Are we flirting? I can’t tell and I’m not sure if it’s because of the wine or simply my brain missing the signals. I clear my throat and push the thought away. “Since you told me something real, I feel like I can share something with you too.”
“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable.” Of course, he would say that.
“Remember when I said my relationship with my sister is complicated?”
He nods, listening closely.
I swallow, deciphering silently where to begin.
“Well, that’s pretty much my relationship with my entire family.
” He sets his empty bowl down and focuses entirely on me.
To my surprise, it lights something on fire inside of me and pushes me to continue.
“Six years ago, on the night of my graduation, I did something stupid. I was never reckless growing up. . . ever . I was super disciplined and focused on my one goal. I was stuck deciding between Joffrey and Houston Ballet School for the longest time and to this day, I never picked one—never had the chance to.”
Taking a breath, flashes of that night echo in my mind.
“You know how it usually goes for girls like me. I met a boy in the second semester of my senior year. His name was Mason. We started dating and I know that’s when my family started to notice a change in me.
He was my first boyfriend; first everything actually.
I stopped focusing so much on ballet and focused on living my life instead.
One night, Mason, me, and a few of our friends were hopping from party to party.
It was one of the few times I didn’t stop to think about the consequences, but I should have that night.
We were on our way to the last party of the night, and we were all too drunk to notice our designated driver had been sneaking drinks all night.
We hit a tree going fifty miles an hour. ”
He shakes his head, sadness coating his features as he slides off the countertop. There’s a hesitation in his eyes like he’s not sure what to say.
I swallow. “My best friend, Victoria, died that night. I was fortunate—that’s what everyone kept telling me, but they didn’t have to.
I was in a coma for three weeks and when I woke up with screws in my hip, I knew that my life was going to change forever.
Every dream I ever had of me dancing vanished and everything I ever saw for myself was just gone.
” My body shudders. “Even the thought of ever being in a hospital again feels paralyzing.”
“I’m sorry,” he croaks, not hiding how my story makes him feel in the slightest. I barely know him, and yet, I know I’m watching his heart break for me.
“Everyone around me thought I was distraught at losing something like that, but you want to know what I felt? A strange sense of relief.” I let out a weak laugh, running my hands through my hair, forgetting I was wearing it up. “How sick is that?”
He shakes his head more adamantly this time. “It’s not,” he says with so much certainty that I want to believe him. “It’s a human response, Andrea.”
I nod, swiping my palms over my damp cheeks. “Anyway, it’s been impossible to get them to believe that I’m okay. Every time I’m with my family, it feels like they’re looking for something wrong with me.”
Frowning, he says, “That can’t be true.”
I shrug. “Carter’s the only one who understood enough to let me move on with my life.
My parents still live in the past. It’s everywhere in that town.
That's why I hate going back.” Carter has always been the best at coming up with excuses for me, but even I’ve become tired of them.
For so long, I’ve wanted to come to terms with this reality of mine.
I know that the longer I run from it, the longer they’re going to see me for the girl I was when I left and not the woman I’ve become since.
A thought occurs to me—mostly wine-induced—and I laugh.
“You know, if I brought someone like you home, they’d definitely get off my back.
Maybe have a heart attack first, because I mean look at you, but then. . . ”
“Are you calling me attractive?” He grins smugly—undoubtedly wine-induced.
I roll my eyes, but it’s halfhearted. “I think just knowing I’m not alone might give them some relief.
” Another thought occurs to me. “Could even get the investors to take you more seriously, too. Or I can be a buffer for you at drowsy events. I wouldn’t mind fighting off your fan girls either.
From what I hear, you have quite a lot,” I quip.
“Unless you secretly enjoy the attention.” He grows thoughtful, and my eyes widen. “What’s that face for?”
His brows furrow as he looks over my face in contemplation. “What if we did,” he states quietly.
I open and close my mouth like a fish out of water. “Did what?”
He steps closer to me, his face more serious than I’ve ever seen it. “Helped each other.”
“Julian, I was kidding!” I hop off the counter and pace around it. When I turn around, I can see the wheels of his brain still turning. “It’s the wine talking; you said it yourself! I can’t date you, that’d be insane!”
His head tilts. “Would it?”
“Yes!”
“But it wouldn’t be real.”
“Oh my god, you’re serious about this.” I press my palms to my hot cheeks, shaking my head.
“What about the idea of dating me is so repulsive?” he asks.
I press my fingers to my forehead. “It’s not that. It’s me, really.” I wince at myself. “What I mean is that we don’t make sense.”
“Why not?”
Christ, this man is tediously persistent. “Because in the real world, you would never settle for someone like me! ”
His head draws back. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I know, Julian,” I say with a huff.
“Then you don’t know shit.” Baffled by his gruff response, I stare at him in bewilderment as he walks around the counter and stops in front of me. “Think about this, you can help me and I can help you. It’s not like it’ll be hard, you already think I’m pretty and your family will think so too.”
“You’re not that pretty,” I grumble, and his eyes squint in amusement.
Dropping my hands, I tilt my head back to see him better.
It’s like staring up at a tree. A tree you want to climb .
“How would it even work?” I ask him, not able to stop my intrigue at the idea.
“Surely you could take a quick walk and find yourself a willing. . .team player.”
He nods. “I could.” Sensing my pending eye roll, he grins. “Think about the children.”
“Julian!” I scold him, even as I laugh in disbelief.
“What?” He laughs and I pick up a rag to throw at him. He catches it against his chest.
“How can you be so casual about this?”
He lets out a breath, swiping a hand over his face. “Forget I said anything. You’re right, it’s stupid.”
I nod once. “It is.”
“Right.”
I nod again. “Right.”
His eyes roam my face like he’s trying to read my mind. “So we agree it’s stupid?”
“Yep,” I say, popping the p as I rock back and forth on my feet. “Completely.”
He laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he backs away looking a bit embarrassed. “Agreed.” My eyes follow him to the kitchen as he starts to clean up the wreckage.
I move to help him in silence even while I’d rather run to my room and forget what he said, but I know I won’t—I can’t. I feel him glance at me every so often, but he says nothing. I think we’re both realizing the absurdity of our conversation.
I don’t let it show on my face that I’m contemplating everything we discussed. I imagine my family meeting him and all their attention being removed from me. Maybe if I can show them a future, they’ll stop feeling the need to reminisce about a past I no longer belong to.
Think about the children . Damn him and damn it, I do.
“Are you all right?”
I jump at the sound of his voice as I close the dishwasher. “Huh?”
He gives me a knowing look. “You were frowning.”
“No, I wasn’t.” Was I?
“You still are.” He smiles softly, and it makes me want to help him more—to let him help me. “We should go to bed.”
Alarmed, I blurt, “Not together!”
His eyes widen. “What? No!” He shakes his head, grimacing as he clasps his hands together to lay on the top of his head. “That’s not what I meant, Andrea.”
I let out an awkward laugh. “Oh. Good.” I brush past him quickly to get to my room. I don’t even want to look at the time. “Goodnight, then.”
“Andrea?” he calls out when I open my door and I pause, turning around slowly to face him. “I’m sorry if I ruined it.”
My brows lower in confusion. “Ruined what?” He gestures between us and I shake my head. “You didn’t, Julian. It’s already forgotten.”