He purses his lips in a straight line, and his brows furrow slightly. It almost seems he shuddered at my words as they cut through him.
The truth is, I've always regretted never pursuing my passion. After the accident and my never-ending battles with my brother Liam, I didn't view the world the same. I think that's the part I hate and miss the most, all at once.
I miss the way I'd take in my surroundings. The way they'd become a part of me. Photography was an extension of how I took in my surroundings, allowing me to document the beauty along the way. Truth be told, I now only take photos when I have to. My camera roll in my phone is proof of that, as it's damn near bare.
Just as he went to speak, I held a finger between us to quiet him before he could.
"So, Is it my turn to ask you the questions now? Is that how this is going to go?" I ask, motioning between us with my hand as I raise my eyebrows, almost as if I'm challenging him.
His laugh rumbles its way through my bones like thunder. It is the sweetest feeling I've felt in a long time. A feeling that I had forgotten how much I had missed.
"You can definitely do that. Actually, I welcome it. Before you do, I have to say. . . It looks like we are about to get kicked out," he whispers with a small laugh. He motions his hand around the now empty restaurant and lands, pointing toward the hostess who is turning off the vibrant flashing 'open' sign.
I let out a chuckle, surprising us both, especially myself, with the words that came out of my mouth next.
"Would you want to go somewhere else or even just ride around? I'm not ready to go home just yet. Especially now that it's my turn to ask the questions," I say as I point to myself,tapping my chest with my index finger. "I have plenty of them," I say smugly.
He rolls his eyes as he laughs, shakes his head in disbelief, and lets out a playful sigh as if it's a sigh of relief. I'm not sure where that came from.
I don't understand the effect he still has on me, and so effortlessly. It's almost infuriating. Or, I can blame it all on the wine. Yes, that's what I'll do.
DAMN WINE!
Chapter seventeen
Via
The ride back to Sugarland is quiet but isn't awkward in the least bit. I almost expected it to be, and I am glad it isn't. It's nearly comforting, even. That could still be all thanks to the wine, though.
The only sounds heard are the loud rumble of his truck and the music quietly playing in the background. His taste in music has changed as I hear a somewhat country twang barely coming through the speakers because he has it so low.My Anderhated new-age country music. He was okay with the classics, but they weren't his favorite, like hard rock and metal.
There used to be no denying that Metallica and Black Sabbath had a hold on him. Although I can barely hear the music, it doesn't sound very pop-ish, like most new-age country music. It certainly isn't like the pop country we used to make fun of, but it isn't like the classics we used to listen to, either.
The more I pay attention, the more I realize that the music that is playing sounds like a beautiful combination of rock, bluegrass,folk, and traditional country music; I've never heard anything like it. I like it. I'm just surprised that Ander likes this.
I stare out the window, watching the city lights fade in the distance and welcome the darkness and sparse street lights every few miles. I can feel his gaze rest on me occasionally, and I fight to hold back my smile.
We pull up at Open Tap's Bar back in town, and I guess the wine is starting to wear off because the nerves are beginning to fall in.
As he put the truck in park, I felt his hand brushing against my leg. My head whips up to look at him. His eyes look over me softly, and he looks worried as he sighs.
"V, I can't tell you how much seeing you again and finally catching up with you means to me. I'm not lost on the fact that this has to be a lot for you to take in—a lot for both of us. It would be best if you didn't feel pressured. If this isn't okay, then you need to tell me." The worried tone in his voice settles my nerves a bit. To know that he's probably feeling the same about all of this as I do puts me at ease.
I slightly grin at him and shake my head.
"I meant it when I said I'm not ready to go home yet. If this is too much foryou, I understand also and don't want you to be uncomfortable." I keep my tone even, trying not to sound as desperate as I feel saying that out loud. It's the truth. I don't want this to end. As much as I didn't think I would, I wanted to hear about his life.
His expression drops into shock. Confusion? I can't help but look down at my lap and break our eye contact.
"V," His hand reaches up and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, which lingers there momentarily. He lets one finger trail down my cheek toward my chin until he gently lifts my face to face toward his. His hand stays there, and his thumb softly swipes back and forth across my skin.
"I have spent the past six years wishing I could do this with you, and now, here you are." He shakes his head, trying to process the thought. "The last thing I would ever feel around you is uncomfortable."
I shut my eyes and let out the breath I held while he was speaking. When I reopened my eyes, they immediately began searching for his. I place my hand on his, which is still on my face. I don't move his; I squeeze gently and say,
"Alright."
". . . Alright" He nods with a smile and turns to get out of the truck, rushing around the front to open my door for me. The butterflies in my stomach are dancing at the gesture.
