“I see.” I nod slowly, her words settling in. “Sounds like you’ve got every reason to feel that way. I understand why your apprehensive towards men. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
I see why she’s carrying this weight. It’s generational, years of hurt passed down beginning with her grandmother and culminating with a deep betrayal from her ex-husband. And from the sound of it, there hasn’t been a single man in her life who’s stepped up to prove her wrong.
I’m not looking for another project, got enough of those between all my businesses and side work restoring homes in Brookhaven, but something about Alessia begs me to not belumped into that category of men who disappoint her, even if I don’t want to be the one to put in the work to change her mind.
Her eyes narrow, suspicion flickering there. “Are you just going to agree with everything I say tonight?”
I shrug. “If you’re making sense, I’m going to agree. I wouldn’t lie to you. That a problem, sweetheart?”
She narrows her eyes further, crossing her arms. “No, it’s just… weird.” She rolls her lips between her teeth. “Unexpected, I guess.”
I lean back, smirking. “You’ve made plenty of fair points.”
“I… I mean, I have, yes, but I figured you’d try to defend your comrades or something. That’s what most guys do. They try to say,we’re not all alike. Not all men!Or that it’s unfair to generalize when the pattern is clearly men.”
“I know a lot of men that are just like the way you’ve described and experienced. I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong about that. And it’s true—there are plenty of men who lie and cheat. Why would I waste my energy defending the ones who’ve hurt you? Fuck them.”
She presses her lips together again and shakes her head. I lean forward, meeting her gaze directly.
“Just take it for what it is, Alessia. You don’t have to over analyze or overthink everything. Remember, I’m not the enemy here. Just a guy, enjoying some seafood casserole with a beautiful woman. This was supposed to be a blind date. We can enjoy our conversation without being combative, right?”
She hesitates again before nodding. “Yeah. We can.”
Chapter 9: Alessia
No, maybe Gabriel isn’t the enemy here. But why does he feel like it? Why does he seem like the Trojan horse sent to break down my carefully constructed walls designed to keep men out and lick my wounds??
I glare at him, but then I realize my brows aren’t pinched together like I thought, and my mouth isn’t set to a thin line anymore. Really, I’m just staring at him. Admirably.
I decide to let go whatever defenses erected the moment I realized who he was because I really don’t know him, and this isn’t worth getting upset over. I apologized, he said we should move on, but when I can’t figure someone out, I get frustrated. And when I get frustrated, I feel out of control. And Ihatefeeling out of control. Goes back to that whole ‘I hate surprises’thing.
The last thing I need is to direct all my frustration and insecurities at Gabriel. Especially since he’s Natasha’s cousin, and apparently one of the best men she knows. I can kind of see why now, sitting across from him. He’s kind, patient, and willing to overlook my mistakes without even knowing me. His shoulders are relaxed, his smile is easy, and he doesn’t lookuncomfortable about this weird mix-up at all.
I stab my fork at another bite of salmon and take the opportunity to study him again. That strong jawline. Those broad shoulders that look like they could crush me in ways I probably shouldn’t be thinking about anymore. Each lift of his fork to his nicely shaped mouth reveals the tiniest bit of tattoos on his wrists and as a tattoo lover myself, that only makes me even more attracted to him.
And he works in construction as a business owner, of course. Though, I guess that shouldn’t be too surprising. I moved to Brookhaven, Connecticut—basically the blue-collar capital closest to New York City. But even still, I’m surprised by how much I find that attractive. I’ve always dated men who’ve worked in desk jobs. A guy who works away from a computer screen with his hands all day is new.
This isn’t the worst date. He’s right: he isn’t the guy I thought was cheating. Even his cousin wasn’t cheating, though it’s hard to know if he would have. I should ease up on him, let down my defenses a little bit. But how? It feels like the defensiveness is oozing out of me, unintended, and I can’t seem to turn it off.
Maybe I’m not ready to get back into dating.
When I went to the bathroom earlier, after excusing myself to try and pull myself together and focus, I looked in the mirror and hated the expression that was staring back at me. And it’s not because I don’t believe that I’m beautiful, but because my full lips and dark eyebrows seemed permanently set in a scowl. Like my body and nervous system have been trained to be on high alert anytime I entertain a man who isn’t my cousin Memphis. I’m always scanning for threats, preparing for an attack on my heart. Bracing for them to say something that’ll piss me off or confirm what I already think that I know.
That men were created for pain.That I was right about them all hurting me.
And that simply isn’t fair to Gabriel. But worst, if I ever want to find love again, it’s not fair to me. And no amount of white wine—possibly the worst drink choice for this date—can soften those edges that I’ve sharpened with pride.
I should’ve ordered tequila. Maybe we could have done a shot together first.
“So, what brought you to Brookhaven?” Gabriel asks, pulling me from my thoughts and back to our present meal.
“Well,” I say, swirling my wine glass to distract myself, “after my divorce, I had to move out of the apartment my husband and I owned in Manhattan. I ended up crashing with an old college friend. A few months ago, she got engaged and told me it was time to move out. Right around the same time, my mom called to say my grandma wasn’t doing well. She lives in Brookhaven. Next thing you know, here I am. Living with my grandma and trying to get back on my feet.”
He nods. “That’s nice that you had family to move in with.”
“It was… until she kicked me out a week ago. Graciously, Natasha allowed me to move into the house she just bought and pay way under what she deserves in rent.”
“I’ve seen the place. I don’t think you’re ripping her off. It needs a lot of work.”
