Page 66 of Pieces of Heaven

“I worked with a chef years ago. He was always changing jobs, forever restless. He told me how every place had its own internal song. He couldn’t listen to most for very long, so he kept moving on. I thought he was nuts,” she says and laughs. Her breath warms my shoulder where she rests her cheek. “But I understand now. McMurdo Valley’s song spoke to me. It’s also a melody you need to hear if you want to feel like you.”

Xenia’s words hit with the same power as when she said she loved me. I learned long ago to stop worrying about other people’s judgment. First when I was a kid, and the locals rejected me as a mistake bound to be a town nuisance. Then, when I was a man, and they pretended they’d always known I’d lord power over them. Nothing people said really mattered.

This woman—watching me with fearless affection in her beautiful eyes—matters. Her opinion can steal my pride. I hate how much power she holds over me.

Xenia doesn’t naturally live in my world. She isn’t wild. Motorcycles scare her. Living rough isn’t her cup of tea. I bet she’s nervous about pissing when the sun goes down. Nothing about my life makes sense for her.

Yet, she understands me.Not because the answers are easy but because she opens her heart up wide enough for my truth to make sense.

That’s why when she says she loves me, I believe and fear her.

“I don’t want your shop to close,” I say, settling on a topic bound to irritate me. “I think we should come up with a way to keep it open.”

“No,” she says and closes her eyes. “No more holding on to impossible dreams. I plan to focus my energy on what’s real and possible.”

“So, you’re settling?” I grumble.

Xenia peeks at me before sighing. “The shop was me settling. Giving it up is me acknowledging reality.”

“What is being with me, then?”

Xenia opens her eyes and studies me. “I don’t know. You make no sense to me here,” she says and taps her head. “But my heart knows you. It wants to be where you are. I’ve never given my heart what it wanted before. I’ve always made it wait for the dreams that my brain promised would be better down the road. Now, I’m letting my heart run the show. I won’t apologize for that. Not to you or anyone else.”

Her choice to fall for me was strange at first. Now, I worry she’ll get hurt, and I’ll be the one to do the damage.

“I’ve done ugly things, Xenia.”

“And ugly things were done to you.”

“So that makes what I did okay?”

“It means I don’t care what you’ve done. That’s a problem for my head, and it’s not running the show, remember? My heart only wants to be close to you. If you hurt it, I suspect you’ll be forgiven. Maybe not forever, but my heart wants you enough to suffer through tardy dates and conversations where you try to make me reject you.”

Breaking free of her grip, I rest on my back and grunt. “You say these things when shit is new. Everything’s fun in the beginning. But then, you’ll get bored, and your heart won’t be running the show anymore.”

“Hobo, I know people have hurt you.”

“You don’t know shit.”

“I have eyes,” she says and sits up.

I instantly get pissed about her leaving and lean over to force her to lie back down. Xenia doesn’t react to my pushiness. She’s more interested by how I’m within reach again. Stroking my chest, her fingers linger on an old scar.

“People have let me down,” she says as she studies my body. “They promised things they never intended to provide. I trusted them, even when I should have cut them loose. I should be jaded. Maybe I am. I no longer feel the need to impress anyone.”

“Since when?” I grumble, considering how she let that bitch Kendra push her around.

“Since two days ago, when you let me walk with you. I realized I was capable of feeling truly happy. Not just content or hopeful about a distant future. I could be happy right this very second. And it wasn’t because I followed the rules. It was because I followed my heart who asked to follow you.”

“You’re just horny,” I blurt out, not buying my own bullshit even as I say the words.

“Not right this moment, no. I’ve been well fucked. But I’m still happy. Even as you get in your own way and try to push me away.”

“I like my space.”

“Yes, but you also like me.”

“Sometimes,” I grumble, but Xenia pokes my nose. “Fine, I like you more often than not.”

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