“It’s meant to be.”
Shaking my head, I chuckle. There’s so much more to Patrick than looking like a big, burly Indian Viking. I love getting to see all the parts of him. Then I’m imagining what our kid would look like. Tall and broad like their father or soft and curvy like me.
Before I can respond, two teenagers come over, fumbling over their words and almost drop their phone. Patrick turns to them and talks about hockey. I like seeing him animated and happy. He thinks nobody recognises him or knows what he’s achieved. I think they’re more intimidated by the sheer size of this man. What they don’t know is he’s so gentle, he’d squat to their level so they’re not scared of him.
Once the kids leave and he’s facing me again, my heart thuds at the brightness in his amber eyes. There he is, the boy I fell in love with.
“Golden Retriever,” I say instead and his eyes widen. “You’ve always been a Golden Retriever.”
He swallows hard and when he speaks, his voice is rough. “Thought you were the Golden and I was a Labrador.”
There’s a tug at my heart as the memory pops into my head. My crush was so much bigger than both of us, but I was afraid to ruin our friendship. To me, that was far more important.
“Maybe we can switch roles.”
His responding smile is so beautiful it hurts more than I expected, but I shove the pain down and focus on the moment. Not us. It can never be about us.
“Does it really not bother you that people don’t recognise you as the Patrick Joseph?”
His expression shutters, but he catches himself. The smile is dimmer and I hate that I switched topics. But protecting myself is far more important than letting myself feel things.
“Some days, it does. But those kids make me forget about the ones that ignore me. Besides, I won a medal. I made my country proud and came home to my girl.”
“It’s weird, considering how fucking large you are,” I say, evading the my girl comment skilfully.
“I knew you liked my size.” He winks and I roll my eyes.
“Finish your food. I wanna nap when we get home.”
He nods and shovels food into his mouth. Then beats me to the punch, again, and pays the bill before I can get my wallet out of my bag. This is going to be a constant thing, I already know it.
As we walk to my car, I wonder for the millionth time why we didn’t take his bike. I must be frowning deeply, because he looks over at me when we stop at yet another traffic light.
“What’s on your mind, Lo?”
“We should have taken your bike.”
“We can go for a ride later,” he offers and I yawn loudly. “After you’ve gotten enough sleep, of course.”
At home, I unlock the front door and peel off my shoes as he does the same, tossing the keys into the new side table I put there for this very reason. I shove my leftover food into the fridge and grab a bottle of water before heading to my room. His footsteps echo behind me, but I don’t turn around.
“What do you think about going out to dinner sometime this week?”
I frown and look over my shoulder at him. “You tired of cooking?”
“Like a date, Lo. You and me. Get dressed up, go somewhere nice and eat a meal.”
Oh no. There’s no right way to refuse him, but I’m still going to be the bitch that breaks him. I keep my back to Patrick as I slide off my earrings and untie my hair. His gaze burns into my back, but I don’t look at him. I’m afraid if I meet his eyes, I’ll succumb and my walls will crumble. Forget transparent, they’ll no longer exist.
“Probably not a good idea, right? Let’s not confuse what this is.”
I know the words hit their mark by the dead silence. I swallow hard and look over, he’s staring at me with his jaw clenched and I hate myself a little.
“Yeah, you’re right. Have a good nap, I’m gonna get some work done.”
I nod and once he’s gone, I close the bedroom door and collapse face first into my bed. Then release the loudest groan I can muster. There’s a special place in hell for monsters like me.
Nineteen. Cross my heart
