Page 127 of That Fake Feeling
Icast my gaze around the shop.
Thehalf dozen people dotted around the room are, indeed, all staring our way.EvenMikeyhas taken off his headphones.
“Great!”Connorsays. “BecauseIwant the whole world to know howIfeel about you,Rose.Thislittle audience is just a start.”
Oh, no.He’dbetter not do this.Nothere.Notnow.Myinsides turn in on themselves with mortification.Mytoes curl with embarrassment inside my wet sneakers.Andmy flight or fight instinct chooses flight.
Ireach back and grab the door handle, a lump growing in my throat.Thisis messing up all my plans.
Yes,I’vecome to my senses and realizedIshouldn’t deny myself the personIwant to be with, butIwas going to tell him all that in a couple of days, whenI’mback inNewYorkand afterI’vehad time to think through the perfect things to say to him.Nottoday.Iam not prepared to deal with this right now.AndI’mnot sureI’dever be prepared to deal with it in front of a coffee shop audience.
“Thisis going to be good,”AuntJensays as she steps back and drops into the nearest chair, resting her elbow on the table.
Thelocals lean in, desperate not to miss anything.It’sprobably the most exciting thing that’s happened inCatastrophesince oldSevenFingersSkogginshad his chainsaw accident.Andthat was in 1965.Iread the commemorative plaque at the town hall a couple of days ago.
“Iwas wrong,Rose.”Connorslides the bag off his shoulder, drops it on the floor, and takes the green bundle in both hands. “I’msorry it took me such a long time to figure it out.Ionly hopeIhaven’t left it so long that you can’t forgive me now.”
Itwas supposed to be me doing this.Megoing to him.Metelling him thatI’dmade the mistake and thatI’msorry for walking away.
Itry to fill my lungs, but the breath hitches in my throat.It’slike my heart’s beating so hard there’s no room in my chest for anything else.
“Youchanged me,Rose.”Helooks sad and happy, unsure yet confident, all at the same time.
Imight not have had the time to prepare all the perfect things to say, but there’s one thingIknow for certain—Imight not even have come here, and spent this precious time withAuntJen, if he hadn’t opened my eyes to the importance of family.That’ssomethingI’mprepared to admit right now.
Myeyes burn asIfinally find my quaking voice. “Youchanged me too.”
It’snot exactly the eloquent, heartfelt speechIwas planning to come up with, but it’s all my over-stimulated brain’s got right now.
Hesteps toward me, closing the final gap between us.
Myheart bursts for the man who’s a giftIcan’t walk away from, even if it goes against all my plans—a man whose talentsIadmire, love for familyIrespect, who has the sexiest pair of shoulders on the planet and who can almost make me come just by winking at me.
Everyaspect of this whole situation is overwhelming—my feelings forConnor, that he’s travelled to a tiny town on the other side of the country to find me, and the fact that every eye in the place is on us.
Iloosen my grip on the door handle, and let my hand flop to my side asIgive up the fight.Thismight not be my timing.Butit’s his.AndifIlove him, thenIneed to give him that.
Ipress my other hand tight against my mouth to try to stop myself from bursting into tears as all the emotions swirling within me bubble to the surface and overflow.
“Butyoudon’t need to change,Rose,” he says, stepping ever closer. “You’reperfect.You’resmart and resourceful and so hardworking and dedicated and committed to making the world a better place.Ilearned more from you in the few weeks we spent together thanI’velearned from anyone else my whole life.”
Bitingmy finger is the only thing that can stop me from sobbing with happiness or grabbing him and mashing my mouth against his.
Histeeth dig into his plump lower lip. “Ihope you’re going to be proud of me.”
Myheart swells.Sincehe was a kid, all he’s ever wanted to do is make everyone he loves proud.
Ilet go of my finger. “I’malready proud of you.”
Thewrapping crinkles as his hand tightens around it.
“AndIdon’t deserve that.Butyesterday,Itold the guysI’mgoing to step away from the business.”Hepauses for a second, as if afraid to say what comes next. “I’mgoing to apply to art school.”
Mymouth drops open on a gasp.Thatmight be an even bigger surprise than seeing him in the middle of the coffee shop.
“Yeah,Istood up to them.”Hewaves his hand like it was nothing. “Turnsout they didn’t actually care.Butthe point is,Idid stand up to them.Idid tell themIwant to do whatIwant to do.”
Myeyes are blurry again, but this time not from the rain.
