Page 31 of Wingwoman
She was also poised. Camera ready. She seemed smart enough and driven, but she didn’t make my pulse quicken. When we made eye contact, my chest didn’t tighten. Her hair smelled good, but it didn’t have that subtle scent of flowers and herbs that Hope’s had.
And most notably, I wasn’t excited sitting here with Daisy. I wasn’t imagining what our next date would be, planning when I could see her again.
In fact, it was the opposite. I found my mind wandering to Hope. Thinking about the way those riding pants hugged tight curves and how fucking hot it would be to see her in nothing else but those new boots. My mouth went dry at those thoughts.
Whomever we choose for this muse, she needed to be good enough to make me forget all about my draw to Hope.
And Daisy wasn’t it.
But maybe most notably, Daisy seemed too eager to please me. She seemed to want this—want me—more than she should.
Above all, I can’t crush another woman’s heart in my quest to write a new album. Whomever I choose needs to already be hardened with her guard up, and not likely to fall in love with me.
And based on Daisy’s doe eyes, I wasn’t sure she was up for that.
Then there was the question of did she likemeor simply the prospect of dating a famous guy? I’m all for a mutually beneficial collaboration with this, but it was hard to tell with her, especially when she was poised for the stage and groomed to give good answers constantly.
Even still… a promise was a promise. And I had promised to give Daisy a fair chance.
She cleared her throat, yanking me out of my spiraling thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “What was your question again?”
“I said my manager was telling me that you’re looking for a girlfriend who will inspire your songwriting.”
“That’s the uh… goal, yes. I don’t know if you listen to my music, or country music at all, but I was engaged once before, until…” my voice faded as I turned to look ahead of us in the direction Diesel was walking. Until what? How much of my past was I willing to divulge to this girl I barely knew?
Puffy clouds billowed in the sky above us as the sun edged closer to the horizon. It was gorgeous out and days like this reminded me of my mom; reminded me of the aching, gaping hole in my heart since she had passed away.
I could practically hear my mother’s advice:She deserves the truth, pumpkin.
I opted for censored honesty instead of the full truth, even though I could feel my mother’s sigh of frustration with me from Heaven.
“Until it ended. It was messy for both of us. And for a while, I wasn’t interested in settling down again. I’m still not sure I am. I don’t want to sit here and promise a lifetime together—muses are typically a quick burn lifestyle. They are on fire and full of passion, but that sort of heat isn’t sustainable.” I was being obtuse, but not purposefully. “Does that make sense?”
“Passion,” Daisy repeated. “Sort of the idea when a candle that burns from both ends lasts half as long?”
I nodded as she gave me a fleeting look, batting her lashes, then drifted her gaze down at her hands, running her fingers over her pale pink manicured nails. “So you’re not looking for love?”
I swallowed. That was the problem. Iwaslooking for love. Love on my end… not hers. And how in the hell did I reveal that without sounding like a psychopath?
With Hope, I knew her heart belonged to someone else. That idiot of an actor who broke her heart and cheated on her. She wanted him back.
Not that he deserved a second chance with a woman like Hope, but that wasn’t my call. And she wasn’t over him. I could see it in her eyes.
Hope was the exact type of woman I could fall hard for, but I knew she wouldn’t reciprocate. I couldn’t say the same for Daisy.
“I’m looking for love, but noteverlastinglove,” I said quietly. “I don’t know that I can ever give someone my heart for life. But I’m a masochist. I crave the feeling of falling in love again. I want the excitement and passion of falling in love, even if I know it will only end in pain.”
“But… how do youknowit will end in pain?” Daisy asked with a disbelieving chuckle. “Maybe it will end beautifully. With a wedding. And a white picket fence.”
I clicked my tongue. “I’ve already got the fence.”
“But not the wedding.”
I sighed and bent down to give Diesel’s neck a pat. “I can live without the wedding.”
She blinked, her eyes narrowing as she studied me. After a moment’s silence, she said, “Well, at least you’ve experienced love before. I don’t think I’ve ever known the feeling. I’ve had boyfriends, of course. But no one I could really envision myself with forever.”
