“There is a difference between being independent and being stupid,” I argue.
Her hands settle on her hips. “Oh, so I’m stupid now.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Youaren’t stupid, but what you are about to do is.”
“Ted,” she says with a finality and resolve I don’t like. “I am not one of your brothers. You aren’t responsible for my life.” She makes her way to the stairs, picking up her satchel along the way. I follow her down. “Though I’d argue you shouldn’t make yourself responsible for other grown men either. You may need a lesson in boundaries.”
“You first,” I shoot back.
She stops at the bottom of the stairs to look up at me. A step higher than her, it forces Goldie to really crane her neck to meet my eye with her cutting glare.
“Please,” I say, trying to reason. My fingers curl into tight fists, as if I can keep the fear at bay. But if she doesn’t let me be there, I’ll go out of my mind. “For my sanity, please let me drive you to work and hang out during your shift. I’ll stay out of your way, I promise. I just can’t handle the stress of waiting to know if you're okay. It would. . . ” I pull at my own hair as if the small pain could overpower my stress. “Drive me crazy if anything happened to you.”
“Because you think it’s Eli’s fault?” she says dryly.
Because I think I love you.
The thought freezes as soon as it forms, petrifying, solidifying. Where I can’t move it out of my mouth, I also can’t get it off my mind now. It sits there, threatening me with a permanence I didn’t see coming.
I don’t know what she sees on my face, but Goldie rolls her eyes as she picks her keys up off the entryway table. “Fine. You want to waste your whole evening, knock yourself out.”
I’ve won the battle.
But I just realized I’m in a war for far higher stakes. Goldie’s heart. I don’t fucking deserve it but when my mind makes itself up, there is nothing I can do to budge it.
Chapter29
Bring Your Ted To Work, Day
TED
The twinkling glow from the assorted lanterns casts playful shadows around the Poison Apple, creating an atmosphere I never expected to enjoy so much. I'm seated at the far end of the bar, an almost empty glass of beer in front of me, trying not to be obvious as I watch Goldie work her magic—both literally and figuratively—among the patrons. I'm not close enough to hear her, but watching her grace is enough to make my evening worthwhile.
My heart seems to dance in rhythm with her laughter which rings across the bar.
Goldie’s enchanting smile lights up the place. She wasn’t this genuinely animated when I visited last time, but my presence has effectively helped dampen the overpowering draw of her siren powers which clearly puts her at ease enough to have fun. Men haven’t flocked to the bar like they are desperate to breathe the same air as her. Or. . . no one other than me.
“You’re the NFH,” a voice says beside me.
I turn to meet a pair of olive green eyes through horn-rimmed glasses. The younger guy wears a beanie and a cool expression of boredom. Like nothing has ever interested him in this life and he’s waiting for something to happen with a healthy dose of skepticism.
“I typically just go by Ted,” I say, taking another sip.
“Why are you here?” the man asks in a monotone voice.
“Why are you?” I shoot back.
He nods his head in Cinder’s direction who catches it and shoots him a sly, seductive smile. “We met at BU in a painting studio course,” he says, his voice still not giving anything away about how he feels in regard to Cinder.
A silence falls between us as we drink our beers. “She’s special,” the hipster finally says.
My gaze starts on Cinder but moves to Goldie. “I’ll say,” I agree though on a different page.
“Makes you wonder what it takes to possess the heart of someone like that.”
“It does,” I muse.
I feel like we are talking in bro code. He about Cinder and I about Goldie.
