“I was worried about you being here alone.” His voice lowered, his eyes slowly caressing my face with an intense stare.
I relaxed. “Thank you. That was really nice.”
“Really nice, eh? That’s a new one.” A light tone entered his voice. “I like the compliment.”
“Shut up. Don’t ruin the moment.” I gave him a half smile. “Sensitive Anderson is definitely moving up on my list of your moods.”
“Don’t tell anyone. It would ruin my rep.” He grinned, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “How about we go get coffee and pancakes?”
My stomach growled more aggressively. “Did I hear my second favorite word?”
“Coffee?”
“No, pancakes.” Life began flowing back into my veins. I was hungry, emotional, and grateful for his support. “I love me some pancakes.”
“It’s settled then.” He patted my shoulder with a firm nod. “We’ll get pancakes, and we’ll drop your car off at your place.”
“Drop it off?” I said, like I couldn’t understand English. “Why?”
“I’ll drive you wherever you need to go today,” he said, leaving absolutely zero room for any argument. “I’ll follow you to your place, and we’ll go to IHOP.”
I nodded at him, getting into the car and resting my head on the steering wheel. I. Was. A. Mess. “Sure, Grace. Lose your heart entirely, that’s a great freaking idea. That will surely end up well for you.”
I about shit myself when he knocked on the window. I looked up at Brock’s face all tight with concern. I rolled down the window, pretending like everything was fine. “I was not talking to myself.”
“Oh good. It didn’t look like that at all.” He shook his head, eyes wide.
“I was singing,” I said, turning red all down my neck.
“I don’t hear a song.” He fought a smile but lost. A beautiful smile, but on the edge of turning into a barking laugh. I recognized the signs.
“I create my own music. I write songs,” I added, rubbing salt in the freaking wound. “I’ll sing one for you one time.”
“I cannot wait to hear it.” His body shook from laughter. “Can I have a preview?”
“I’m shy. I need to practice it.” I groaned into my wheel again. “I need to eat. Let’s go.”
“I would hate to have you practice without an audience. Sure you don’t want to leave your car here?” His grin took over his whole face, so I pushed him out of the way and shut the window. He waited a second longer than normal before getting back into his car. I focused on driving andnotmaking an ass of myself.
It was a real challenge.
* * *
Brock scootedacross the booth and thanked the waiter. He poured us both a mug of coffee, using the carafe on the table while assessing me with those eyes. I exhaled, giving in to his intrusive stare. “What do you want to know?”
He pursed those delicious lips and tilted his head. “Was this year harder than others?”
I gulped, shame returning in my core. I nodded.
“I wonder why.” He raised a brow, deep in thought.
I knew why. The guilt had made this anniversary so much worse. “I forgot about it. I hate myself for that.” I sipped the coffee and searched his gaze. “Do you ever find yourself happy or laughing or enjoying life but suddenly remember what happened? It feels like the floor underneath me gives out. I’ve been so caught up in school and the internship. My friends, and well,everything.” I caught myself before sayinghehad been a distraction. “I’ve been so happy that I forgot about today. I can’t,” I paused, running my hands down my face, “I can’t let myself forget her. Ever.”
He nodded, running his fingers over the mug. “Whenever something good happens to me, I question it. I analyze the shit out of it.”
“That’s what happened to me.” His response made me feel a tinge more normal.
“I’ve learned the past couple years to think of the good moments as signs. You, for example.” His eyes warmed, his teeth grazing his bottom lip quickly before continuing. “My sister always wanted me to be happy. You make me happy. I’m not going to feel guilty for finding joy.”
