Page 63 of The Dating Dare

“Art was my first love.” His voice broke on the wordlove. “I started out sketching as a kid, then my mom taught me how to paint. When I was in high school, I discovered mixed-media art, and it was as though a whole new world had opened up to me. Of course, I chose to major in it in college.”

Tara nodded and gently squeezed his forearm.

“I was a shy, quiet kid. I went to my high school prom with my friends because I was too scared to ask my yearlong crush to go with me.” He laughed softly through his nose. He found his words coming easier with Tara’s warmth beside him. “My sophomore year in college, I met Jessica. She was beautiful and outgoing, always surrounded by people clamoring for her attention. I fell hard for her. She was so far out of my league. I expected another bout of unreciprocated love. I was more terrified than flattered when she started pursuing me. The first few times she asked me out, I actually refused.”

“You were in love with the woman and you refused to go out with her?” Tara half-smiled, shaking her head.

“I know. I was that shy and naive. I’d never had a girlfriend or even been on a date back then. I thought I was going to make a fool of myself if I accepted. But she was relentless. She would wait for me in front of my classes and show up at my art studio. And finally I thought, what the hell?”

“Way to go, young Seth.” She mock punched him on his shoulder.

“It was wonderful the first few months. She was intelligent and genuinely interested in my art. I thought she was the one. Someone I could spend the rest of my life with.” Seth put his mug back on the coffee table and raked his hair with his fingers. “But things changed. I guess the novelty of having an introverted artist for a boyfriend wore off quickly, and she started complaining that it was boring when it was just the two of us. I tried to change for her. I even went to frat parties and dealt with the drunken crowd and noise. I spent more time trying to please her, and less time on my art. She made me feel as though I had to pick between the two of them.”

“No,” Tara whispered, and took ahold of his hand.

“But when it came time to prepare for my first open exhibit, I begged Jessica for her understanding. She grudgingly gave me some space. I was so grateful that I planned an elaborate romantic dinner for us after the exhibit.” He stopped and took a deep breath through his nose. He wasn’t sure he could continue. He’d never told anyone about the next part.

“Oh, Seth. You don’t have to tell me any more if it’s hard for you. I understand.”

Tara’s soft reassurance fueled him on. “The night of the exhibit, she showed up with her entourage. I think they were all a little drunk. I smelled alcohol on them. They were rude to the other student artists with their rowdiness and absolute disrespect for their work. But they were outright cruel to me when they came to my wall. They laughed and insulted my work, saying they looked like a five-year-old’s finger painting, and Jessica laughed right along beside them. Then she launched a lance through my heart. She said I would never make it in the real world with my third-rate talent, and should look into drawing caricatures at amusement parks. She and her friends cackled likea pack of hyenas, and I couldn’t take it. She sullied something sacred to me. I ran out of the exhibit and never turned back.”

“That’s when you changed your major?”

“The very next day, I went and changed it to photography. I felt like I didn’t have to bare my soul when it came to photography, especially if I wanted to go commercial. And thanks to my mixed-media major, I had taken a great many photography classes already, so I was even able to graduate on time.” Seth tried to shrug nonchalantly. “In the end, it all worked out. I have a successful career and I got past my shy stage.”

“There’s no doubt that you’re a talented photographer. Your magazine spreads are so full of life and dazzling. But these pictures of me… they feel different. Your soul is in it. I think somewhere inside, your love of art is clamoring to get out.”

“You’re reading too much into those pictures. I photographed a woman I admire and desire on a perfect day in the sun. That’s just the way I see you—beyond beautiful—and my lens captured that.”

Tara gazed at him with sad eyes, but she just cozied up beside him on the couch and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Flatterer.”

“Hey, I’m only telling the truth.” He kissed her back, then pulled away quickly. Kissing her was addicting, and he really needed to get some work done. Besides, he could use something to pour his attention into. The past was threatening to encroach on the present with its dark claws. “Now stop kissing me, so I can get to work.”

“Aw, man. Do I have to?” She grinned cheekily and scooted away from him, leaving a respectable distance between them.

“And quit being so adorable,” he said with feigned irritation.

“You’re such a dork.” She crinkled her nose at him, holding back a laugh.

And just like that the darkness receded into the past.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Tara had the 5 p.m. to 2 a.m. shift tonight, but her mind was hardly at the brewery. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Seth had told her earlier today. Her heart broke at hearing his story. It was such a damn shame that he was letting his true talent waste away because a cruel little bitch stomped on his heart until it became a stain on the sidewalk. No one should experience something like that. Especially not someone as kind and gentle as Seth.

But at the same time, she felt intensely jealous. Was Jessica the love of his life? He’d said something about spending the rest of his life with her. Did life lose meaning for him when he let her go? Is that why he chose to give up art? Was he was still pining for her even after what she did to him?

The customer jumped a little when she slammed down his blond ale a bit harder than necessary, making it slosh onto the table.

“Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry. It must’ve slipped my hand,” Tara said, picking up his glass again. “Let me refill it for you. It’ll just be a second.”

Fuckity hell. She was losing it. No matter how frustrated or angry she was, Tara never let her mood affect her work. But the green monster was on a rampage through the brewery.

If anyone so much as looked at her wrong, they got her glare from hell. The kind where actual fire flickered in her eyes. Or at least it did in her mind.

“Here you go. Sorry about that again.” Tara deliberately set down the cup with care and forced a smile for the customer.

“No problem,” he said nicely enough, then speed walked away from her like rabid raccoons were on his ass, glancing over his shoulder once.

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