Page 28 of Mr. Edwards
“Nice.”
“What kind of volunteer work do you do?”
“Self-defense classes at a local women’s shelter,” she says with a shrug like it’s no big deal. “And occasionally, when I have some spare time, I help out at the soup kitchen. I like to give back where I can.”
“Why is that?”
She stares down at the table briefly before finally bringing her eyes back to me. “My life started out pretty rough, but I’m blessed with what I have now. Not all people can say the same.”
I wasn’t expecting so much honesty from her, but the more she talks, the more I want to learn. I’m finding her fascinating, and so different from the other women I’ve dated in the past. They’re so self-centered, spoilt, privileged, and entitled. The polar opposite of Carlee. I have no idea what her childhood was like, but I’ve lived through hard times myself. It makes me feel connected to her in some way.
“These self-defense classes, do you teach them?”
“Yes.”
“Your ninja skills?” I rest my elbows on the table again, giving her my full attention.
“Something like that,” she says, grinning.
“These skills you talk of, is it something you’ve learned or were you just born kick-ass?”
We both have a small laugh at that.
“I used to live in an apartment above a gym.”
“So, you took ninja classes there?”
“Yes, Reece the guy who owned the gym was also my custodian.”
“Oh.” I sit back in my chair letting her words settle in.
Who is this Reece guy? What happened to her parents? Before I get a chance to formulate a response, she elaborates.
“My mom kicked me out when I was thirteen, and Reece took me in.”
Jesus.
What kind of mother kicks their daughter out when they’re so young? She was just a kid. Reaching across the table, I take her hand in mine as I search for the right words to formulate a response. “I’m so sorry,” I eventually say, inwardly cringing at my lame effort.
“Don’t be.” She shrugs. “It turned out to be a blessing.”
Tightening my grip, a million questions flicker through my mind. She gives me a tense smile before removing her hand from my grasp. There’s a brief pause as her eyes look everywhere but me. She’s obviously uncomfortable with this topic of conversation, so I’m left feeling like an asshole.
I rack my brain for something to say that’ll break the tension. “I’m a little disappointed in you,” I state, leaning forward in my seat.
Her eyes snap back to mine. “Why?” I bite back my smile when she scowls. She’s a fierce little thing.
“I seem to be the one asking all the questions?” I cock an eyebrow as I tap my fingers on the table. “Your grilling skills are severely lacking, Miss Just-Carlee.”
The corners of her lips lift slightly. “You’re right.”The tension uncoils from her body as she rests her elbows on the table, mirroring my stance. “I’ve been letting you off easy.”
“I hope you’re going to rectify that.”
Her smile grows. “Most definitely, pretty boy.”
“Do your worst, beautiful.”
Making good on her promise, she grilled me throughout the entire meal, asking about my family, work, where I grew up, and things of that nature. I, however, kept my questions light. I’m enjoying our time together, and the last thing I want to do is upset her again.
