“Nah, this was way more fun,” I grinned at her, feeling lighter.
Her eyes searched mine, but instead of meeting hers, they dipped to her lips. Those perfectly plump pink lips, which she was biting. She knew what she was doing, driving me crazy.
“Any discomfort?” she asked quietly. For a second, I wasn't sure if she wondered about my knee or my growing erection behind her.
“None that I can't take,” I replied, and she grinned.
“Good.”
I slowly placed her down on her foot and adjusted my shorts before she turned around to face me.
Rosie stretched out and flashed me a beautiful smile before the most unexpected thing left her mouth. “Your parents must be so proud of you.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “Sure. They're thrilled.”
Her head snapped toward me, blue eyes narrowing. “That didn't sound sincere.”
“That's because it wasn't.” I picked at the label on my water bottle, suddenly finding it fascinating. “My parents aren't really proud. Ever. They only do… transactions.”
Rosalie shifted, turning to face me fully. “What do you mean?”
I hadn't planned on talking about this. I never talked about this. But something about the way she looked at me: curious but not pitying, open but not pushy, made the words spill out.
“When I tore my ACL, you know what my dad said?” I stared at the empty field. “He said, 'Well, there goes your scholarship. Hope it was worth it.' Then he wired money to the best surgeon in California and told me not to embarrass him by failing at my comeback.”
“Derek.”
“And my mom,” I continued, the bitterness rising in my throat, “she sent flowers to the hospital with a card that said 'Get well soon, darling,’ but she never actually visited. She was too busy with her...friend.” I made air quotes around the word. “The tennis instructor she's been fucking for the past three years.”
Rosalie's hand found mine, her fingers threading through mine without hesitation.
“They've been cheating on each other for as long as I can remember,” I said quietly. “Mom has her tennis instructor. Dad has his secretary. Sometimes they swap. Dad gets a new secretary, Mom finds a new trainer. But they stay married becausedivorce would be 'inconvenient' and 'expensive.'” I finally looked at her. “That's what love looks like in my house. A business arrangement with occasional affairs.”
“That's not love,” Rosalie said fiercely. “That's... I don't even know what that is, but it's not love.”
“I know. Logically, I know.” I rubbed my face with my free hand. “But that's all I've ever seen. So, when people talk about relationships, commitment, and all that... I just see my parents. I see people hurting each other and calling it love.”
“Is that why you never dated anyone? Why were you always just... hooking up?”
“Yeah. Easier to not care if you never let anyone close enough to hurt you.” I squeezed her hand. “But then you showed up with your cupcakes and your terrible frosting techniques.”
“Hey!” She swatted my arm, but she was smiling.
“...and suddenly I wanted to let someone close. I wanted to care.” I turned to face her fully. “That scares the shit out of me, Rosie. Because what if I'm like them? What if I inherited whatever's broken in them that makes them hurt each other?”
Rosalie shifted closer, until our knees were touching. “You're not like them.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you're terrified of being like them. That matters.” Her thumb stroked across my knuckles. “People who are truly selfish don't worry about being selfish. They just are. But you? You've been pushing me away this whole time because you're worried about hurting me. That's not selfish, Derek. That's the opposite.”
I wanted to believe her. God, I wanted to believe her.
“My parents got married because my mom got pregnant with Aaron,” Rosalie said softly. “They didn't love each other. Not really. But they chose to try. They chose to work at it every single day until somewhere along the way, it became real. Nowthey're disgustingly in love, and it's actually kind of gross to witness.”
“What's your point?”
“My point is that love isn't something you either have or don't have. It's something you choose. Every day. Your parents chose not to choose each other. That doesn't mean you'll make the same choice.”
