Page 47 of Love Unexpected
“It isn’tanyone’sopinion. Just yours.”
“That’s not true,” I said matter-of-factly. “I went to high school with a girl named Tasha. She loved it too.”
“Aww, a cute little two-person club. How sweet.”
I tossed a piece of licorice at her nose. “I’m going to make you eat more if you don’t stop making fun of me.”
“But then I won’t be able to eat my pickle-flavored taffy,” she said.
(For the record, the pickle taffy got a hard no from both of us.)
The thing about Rosie was that she didn’t play to the camera. She wasn’t reacting for anyone else’s benefit. Not to be funny. Not to get a rise. It was obvious she was just being who she was. It had been a long time since I’d spent time around someone as genuine as Rosie, and it made me wonder if I’d lost sight of whoIwas. Because I never stopped thinking about how my actions, my reactions, my facial expressions, my words played to an audience. I’d been putting my life on camera for more than a decade. Every experience I had filtered through whether or not it would make good television.
I envied Rosie’s lack of awareness. It read a little like innocence, but that wasn’t the right word. There was just a purity to her personality that, after just an hour or two in her company, I realized I envied. Maybe somewhere deep, I recognized that I used to be that way. But I’d changed.
I wasn’t sure I was ready to figure out why. Or if it was for worse or better.
Regardless, who Rosie was worked incredibly well on camera. We had a great, natural vibe between us. When Tyler was too obtrusive, she would clam up a little and retreat, but when she forgot he was there, or at least got better at ignoring him, she sparkled. Her wit was sharp, her humor on point, and her smile was engaging in ways that made my heart flop around in my chest.
But I didn’t want to think about Rosie’s smile.
I was on my way to see Ana, and she was different from anyone I’d ever met. She got me. Understood me in ways that no one ever had before. Realistically, I knew it was possible we’d see each other in person and not feel a connection. I wasn’t so shallow to think that physical attraction was the most important thing, but it did matter. Of course I worried that I’d see her and not feel that spark. But it was hard to imagine that I wouldn’t. That’s how perfect our connection felt online.
A swell of nerves pulsed through me, and I tensed up, breathing out a quick sigh to try to find my equilibrium. Things would be fine.Fine.
“You okay?” Rosie asked. She dropped her phone into her lap.
I gripped the steering wheel. “Uh, yeah. Just got a little nervous thinking about where we’re headed.”
“It’s going to work out, Isaac,” she said, the quiet confidence in her voice bolstering me up in a way I hadn’t expected. At the same time, a tiny thread of disappointment snaked its way through my mind. Despite my commitment to the cause—to the trip—Rosie had ignited a small spark of attraction somewhere in the recesses of my mind. To have her encouraging me toward another woman quickly stomped out that spark. But that was a good thing. The right thing. Feeling attraction for Rosie would only make this road trip more complicated.
“Have you ever heard of Red Renegade?” I asked on impulse. I thought of the way Bridget had complained whenever I’d played Red Renegade when she was around. If Rosie felt the same way about my favorite band, it would make it that much easier to stomp that spark well and truly out.
I looked over and caught her eye for a brief moment before turning my gaze back to the road. Something had flashed across her expression, but I couldn’t guess what it was or what it meant. It looked like... recognition.
“The band, right?” She spoke slowly, almost hesitantly, as if she wasn’t really sure. “Didn’t they play at the Compassion Project benefit you did a couple years ago?”
“Yeah. That was an amazing night. Do you know any of their stuff?”
She bit her lip. “I’m sure I’d probably recognize it if I heard it.”
I shouldn’t care what she thought. But I suddenly wanted to play a few Renegade songs just to see how she felt about them. If she reacted like Bridget, well, then I would know, and it would be that much easier to keep my mind on track. If she liked them...I didn’t want to think about what it would mean if she liked them. Because I recognized that I wanted her to. And that was a scary realization.
“Ana loves Red Renegade,” I blurted.
Rosie’s eyes went wide for a brief moment before she nodded. “Does she?”
I was making things awkward. So, so awkward. “Yeah. That’s actually how we met.”
“I remember you showing me,” Rosie said. “That day out on the patio. It was an album cover, right?”
“Oh, right. Yeah. Yes. Her artwork. She’s wicked talented.” I almost cringed at the sound of my own words. They sounded so...eager. Soconvincing.
“Does she do anything with her art? Is that her job?” Rosie asked.
I shook my head. “It could be, she’s that good, but no. She’s actually a web designer like you.” I paused. “Um, I’ve never actually made the connection before now, but that’s actually kind of weird. You’re both web designers, and you’re both from Kansas.”
She tucked a curl behind her ear. “There are a lot of web designers in Kansas,” she said dismissively. “I went to college with quite a few.”
