“Why Brown?” he asks.
“At first, it was because it’s where my dad went, but the location was a selling point too,” I say, thinking back to all the colleges I applied to. “Once I stepped foot on the campus, I fell in love with it.”
He smiles at me, and we keep going.
“How old were you when you got your first kiss?”
His brow arches in surprise. “Fourteen.”
“Really?”
“Is that your next question?”
I shake my head and sigh. I only have two questions left, and I don’t want to waste one.
“How old were you when you started crocheting?”
“My grandmother, my dad’s mom, taught me when I was twelve. She was always making blankets and clothes, and I thought it was so neat. She was making something from nothing, really. I was sixteen when she passed away, but I kept doing it. I felt like it was keeping her memory alive or something, you know?”
He nods, staring right into my eyes, sensing my hurt. But I know his runs deeper.
“How did your parents meet?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t shut down on me. He doesn’t talk about his family much, but I know it must be hard for him since losing his dad.
His chest rises, his brow pinching together. I hold his gaze, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “They were high school sweethearts.”
I give him an encouraging smile, hoping he’ll elaborate, and he does.
“They got married at twenty and had me a year later. My dad took a job at a bank—something he didn’t enjoy—but hewanted to provide for his family. He busted his ass to move up in the company and it allowed my mom to go back to school after she had me and finish her nursing degree. When I was three, they had my sister. My mom just finished school and stayed home, raising us, because she didn’t want to miss anything.” He blows out a heavy sigh, looking away.
I reach across the table and grab his hand, running my thumb along his tattooed skin, and he drops his gaze, staring down at our hands.
“They were insanely in love and happy.” Sadness seeps from his voice.
My throat burns.
“Ever been in love, Barbie?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I think so?” If you’d asked me last year, I would’ve easily said yes. Now I’m not so sure. I always thought Chad and I were so in love, but I don’t think you can toss someone aside as easily as he did me if he loved me. I don’t think I would’ve gotten over it so quickly if I were truly in love with him.
“You think?” He chuckles.
“Haveyouever been in love?” I toss back.
“Nah.”
“You’ve never had a girlfriend?” I frown.
How is it possible no one’s been able to snatch him up? Unless he doesn’t want to be tied down to one person, which would make more sense. That thought makes me uneasy.
“I had a girlfriend in high school. She was one of my best friends, but I wasn’tinlove with her. Not like I was with music. As fucked up as it sounds, I would’ve never chosen her over that. Once I realized that, I ended it.”
“That must have been painful for her.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
He glances up at me. “Maybe. We dated for almost fouryears. She was going off to college and wanted me to come, but I wasn’t leaving Travis or my dreams behind to watch her chase hers. If I really loved her, maybe I would’ve, but if she loved me like she claimed, she wouldn’t have asked me to do that.”
“Have you dated since?” I ask, thinking about the blonde girl from the bar the first time we met.
“Nope, haven’t had the time or energy to pursue someone, and no one piqued my interest. Until you.” He winks.
