Page 30 of At First Smile
“Losing little things like seeing JoJo’s smile or Trina’s frown.” My lips tug up. “I can feel those things, but it’s not the same as seeing them.”
“Those aren’t little things…those are the big things.” He places his chin on my shoulder.
“Yeah.” I press a little harder against him -and soak up the sensation of understanding that cocoons me in his arms.
I feel the bob of his throat against my neck. “There’s no cure.”
“Not yet. There are different trials, but nothing definitive. My mother wants me to try to get into one, but they tend to want to do them with folks whose vision loss is more advanced in case something goes wrong. Doesn’t stop her from pestering me about it each time we talk.
It’s funny, I’m not blind enough for them and too blind for my mother. ”
“Too blind for your mother? What does that mean?”
I heave a loud sigh. “My entire life, my mother has been obsessed with the idea of curing my vision loss. She’s so focused on the things I can’t do, that she doesn’t see my capability, only my disability.
If she’s not pushing me to do a medical trial, then she’s lecturing me about getting in a committed relationship, so I have someone to take care of me… someone who isn’t her.”
A familiar ache twinges in my chest at the discussion of my mother. Part of it pulses with guilt about the strained relationship, while the other stings with how my mother leaves me feeling like a problem to be fixed.
“In many ways, she did what she thought was best. She sought out experts to work with me, like a teacher for the visually impaired, and she let me move to California with Aunt Bea. I was always handed off to someone else like a human hot potato.”
“You’re nobody’s hot potato.”
I snort just a little.
“You know what I mean.”
“I know.” I smile. “Since Aunt Bea died, she’s been obsessed with the idea of me getting married. She wasn’t happy about me ending things with Alex.”
“Does she know what he did?”
“Some. She just focuses on how he’d take care of me or how his gestures were romantic.”
“Because stalking and manipulation are the pinnacles of romance.” I want to laugh about the low snarl behind his words, but they’re just too sweet.
“I think her desire for me to be taken care of blinds—pun intended—her to the truth about Alex…” Sucking in a deep breath, I admit something I’ve not told anyone, not even my best friends.
“No matter how independent I am, she only sees me as a problem to be fixed or handed off to someone else to deal with.”
“There’s nothing to fix… You’re perfect as you are,” he whispers, squeezing me tight to him.
“Perfectly imperfect.” I inhale deep his woodsy scent.
“The most beautiful people are—” he nuzzles in to my hair “—and you are gorgeous.”
The truth of Rowan’s words settles inside me. These aren’t just sweet words, but a proclamation of acceptance. He embraces me as I am, not as he’d like me to be.
My brow furrows. “Enough mama drama. Your turn. Tell me a fun secret.”
“I hate carrot cake, but I love carrots.”
My head tips back with a loud laugh. “Look at us. You eat my carrots and I’ll eat your cake. Though, I think I’m getting the better end of this partnership.”
He kisses the back of my head. “No, luv, it’s definitely me who’s coming out the winner.”
And cue the butterflies again. “Speaking of winner, what happened with the argument with Greg?”
On Saturday, Rowan shared that he and Greg were going back and forth about Landon Phillips’ olive branch in the form of Rowan participating in a charity bachelor auction at the end of July in Toronto and shooting a PSA.
I’m neutral on the PSA but jealousy riots inside me at the idea of Rowan involved in a dating auction. Granted whatever’s happening here is early and we’re not exclusive but still, I am not a good sharer.
“I need to tell him soon. Landon’s people want an answer by Monday.”
“His people?” I roll my eyes.
“You forget, I have people too.”
“You have an agent and publicist who, based on your description, appear more meddlesome older siblings than your ‘people,’” I snark, making air quotes.
“Noted.”
“What is the sticking point? The charity auction or the PSA?”
“The PSA. While I’m not a fan of being bid on like a piece of meat, at least that’s for charity.”
“I’m not a fan of you doing that either.” My lips purse.
“Penelope Meadows, are you jealous?” he taunts.
“No. I have GB to comfort me when some rich divorcée buys you like a prize bull at the county fair.” I scratch GB’s ears.
“I like you jealous.” His fingers tap against my bare arms. “You know one way to avoid that from happening is if you come with me and bid on me yourself.”
Something flutters in my chest, but I cover it up with a sarcastic, “Ha, ha.”
“I’m serious. The event is right before you start your new gig, soon to be your permanent one.”
The unabashed faith conveyed in Rowan’s words fill me with a kind of giddiness. One that dulls me to the fact that it’s our first date and he’s suggesting a trip to Canada together.
“It could be a nice way to celebrate. We’d have to attend the event, but we could sneak down to Hamilton, so I could introduce you to my brothers and mam.”
“Meet your family?” I sit up, disturbing GB, and turn my gaping face to Rowan.
“Shit.” He squeezes the brim of his hat. “Too soon?”
“Ya think?” A nervous laugh falls out of me.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was thinking out loud.” He frowns. “Clearly not thinking. I won’t bring it up again nor pressure you but let me be clear; I’m hopeful that one day I’m able to introduce you to them…when it’s time and you’re ready.”
My posture softens with the earnest nature of his words. He’s not trying to convince or tell me I’m overreacting.
“It’s okay.”
He nods but remains pensive.
I position myself back against his chest feeling his muscles relax the moment I press into him. “Why does the PSA bug you the most?”
Tentatively his arms loop around my middle. “With the auction, my presence cosigns the charity’s work, but with the PSA it feels like I’d be giving Landon a seal of approval. That feels like a betrayal.”
“To the person whom Landon hurt?”
“Yes.” His chest rises and falls against my back.
“You don’t need to…”
I know he wants to tell me what happened. Why he did it. His body telegraphs the start and stop of the words he debates on letting out. “I do.”
“No, you don’t. You said you didn’t want to hide from me, but this isn’t hiding from me. You did it to protect someone you care about. I don’t need any other details.”
“But I want to tell you.” His fingers weave between mine.
“Stefan Carlson is my coach. He’d been my coach at university.
He’s always had a lot of faith in me as a player…
as a man. When he jumped to the NHL with the Bobcats, he got them to get me traded from Nashville.
His daughter, Olivia…Liv, is twenty. I’ve known her since she was a little girl.
After Carlson’s wife died five years ago, she’s the most important thing to him. ”
“He didn’t,” I hiss, suspecting exactly where this story is going.
“I ran into Liv in the hotel lobby the morning before the last game. She goes to university in Toronto and was there to have breakfast with her dad. She was upset and confided in me that she’d been seeing someone, they’d slept together, and then he ghosted her.
I didn’t know it was Landon ‘til minutes after we lost the cup. We were still on the ice, and he’d made a snide comment about taking the cup and Carlson’s daughter’s virginity all in the same week. ”
“That fucker… You’re not doing the PSA.” Face pinched, I sit up. “I take it back; I will be attending this charity event with you just to swat him with Cane Austen.”
“Punishing Pen.” He grins.
“Rowdy Rowan.” I grin back.
“We’re quite the pair.” He reaches for me and pulls me back into his chest. This time he cradles me, my ear pressed against his heart, listening to its gentle thump. “Doing the PSA with him would help my public image. I know Greg’s right about that.”
“What’s your good name to the world compared to your good opinion of yourself?” I tip my head up to him.
“Indeed.” His fingers comb into my hair. “I know it’s not the end of our date –”
Grasping his face, I bring his smile inches from mine. “You never have to beg with me.”