Page 24 of Captivated

“Why would that matter? Do you know Piper?” Birdie shoots a side-eye glance, and then the corner of her mouth tips up.

“Uh, kinda.”

“She wouldn’t happen to be the same Piper you pulled over a few weeks ago, is she?”

Fuck. I forgot that I told Birdie and Samuel about that. Of course, they don’t know all the interactions that have happened between us since then—the flirting in the hospital, the encounter at Tony’s, the kiss that still makes my dick rock hard at the thought.

“Maybe… but why do you care?” I feel my anger rising like a small child, the desire to throw a tantrum building in my chest. I feel like Birdie is trying to intrude on my life, and I’m not sure that this is an intrusion I’ll be okay with.

“When have I not cared, Cash?” Birdie drops her brush and turns to face me completely now.

“That’s not what I’m saying…”

“Is there something I don’t know about? Have you and Piper crossed paths again since you pulled her over?’

“Yeah, a few times,” I offer, not needing Birdie to know every detail of how I acted like an ass, proved I am an ass, and how I still feel like an ass. But kissing her in the parking lot was a move I don’t regret for a second. In fact, I thought it was pretty badass, if I do say so myself.

Birdie stares at me, narrowing her eyes and giving me that look she’s perfected over the years, the one that tells me she knows I’m keeping something from her. Turning back to my painting, I rinse the color from my brush and then pick up the sky blue color to paint the top of the canvas.

“You like her, don’t you?” Birdie whispers softly, leaning in closer to me.

“I don’t like women, Birdie,” I spit back, avoiding her eyes.

“No, I think you like this one. It’s the only explanation as to why you’re avoiding my eyes right now. Look at me, Cash,” she demands and I give in because I respect her enough to do so. But believe me, I’m not happy about it. If it were anyone else, I’d tell them to fuck off. “I know how you’ve chosen to live your life in your youth,” she says, and I instantly swallow hard. I’ve never discussed my extra-curricular activities with women with Birdie, but she also knows I don’t really date the same woman twice. “Word around town is that you’re a man whore, does that sound about right?”

Fuck. Am I really having this conversation with the woman I consider my mother?

“Uh, well…”

“Look, I don’t need details, but people talk. And old peoplereallytalk. I also know that you don’t keep the same woman around for very long and you’re young and probably sowing your wild oats, does that sound about right?”

I don’t answer, waiting to see where she’s going with this.

“You’re a shameless flirt, Cash, and you always have been, even when you were a teenager. You know you’re a good-looking man and keeping women at arm’s length allows you to avoid feelings…”

“Birdie…”

“Piper is beautiful, kind, smart, and talented, and I think she’s making you feel things that you’ve always avoided.” I hate that Birdie can read me so transparently, but she hit the nail on the head. Piper does make me feel things—more than just physical desire, although I’d definitely say that’s the strongest emotion I can identify. Watching her move around the room, rattle off directions and demonstrate the next step in the painting—she’s comfortable and confident and reacts to people in such a natural way. You can’t help but be drawn to her.

“She hates me, Birdie,” I finally whisper, turning my attention back to my painting.

“No, I don’t think she does, Cash. I think she’s frustrated with the only side of you that she’s seen. Why not show her the man you truly are? The man I raised you to be…”

I twist my head back to her, swallowing hard as I watch her face soften. Knowing she’s right, I grab her hand and give her a reassuring squeeze, letting her know I hear her, but I can’t talk about this anymore around all of these people.

“Everyone has a part of them they reserve for only a select few to see. Maybe Piper is one of those people that deserves that part of you.” Her gentle smile hits me hard in the chest before she turns back to her painting and the conversation ends.

We sit next to each other in silence for the rest of the activity, only occasionally speaking in regards to the picture as Birdie’s words swirl around in my brain. By the time we finish, I’m pleased with how well my painting turned out. I don’t normally consider myself a very artistic person, but Piper made the picture easy to recreate and by the looks on everyone’s faces in the room, I’d say she did a fantastic job making everyone feel like a Picasso for the evening.

“Alright everyone, that’s it! Thank you so much for hanging out with me. If you could fill out the comment cards before you leave to give to Terrence, I would appreciate it so much,” she addresses the room as the crowd breaks out into a subtle applause. “Oh, you guys are too sweet. Thank you. I really had a wonderful time.” She flashes her brilliant smile before her eyes land on me, and a nervous look takes over her face as she turns away and begins to clean up her station.

As I help Birdie and Samuel put away their brushes, dump their water dishes in the sink, and throw their paper plates full of paint in the trash, I sneak glances at Piper, contemplating Birdie’s words.

Can I show her the other side to me? Do I even know who that is? Birdie is the only person I have ever been myself with, but Piper makes me want to be more transparent—the desperation I feel to prove to her that I’m not just an ass that dates women based on a bet or fucks them and doesn’t care about them otherwise is so strong, it rattles my usual confidence. Do I want Piper to see that part of me, the not so confident man that she’s turned me into? Can I share pieces of myself with a woman when I’ve never had the desire to before? I’ve always just been the flirt, the cocky sheriff that had ladies lined up waiting for their turn for a ride. But this woman doesn’t want me, even though the way she kissed me back says otherwise. And fuck if that makes me want her even more. This is new for me, and I don’t know how to get her to see that there’s a change happening inside of me that she’s responsible for, and I sure as fuck don’t know how to handle it.

I’m suddenly very aware of my tongue and I can feel sweat rolling down my back.

“Go help her, Cash,” Birdie whispers in my ear as I hug her goodbye. Samuel stands by her side and urges me with a confident nod.

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