Beautiful Rose (12 page)

“Oh?” I said, expressing my interest. “Tell me, did your mom send the gardener down to pick you up from hospital after you tried to kill yourself at age eleven?” My voice was light, but there was no mistaking the undertone of sadness.

“No, my mum left when I was seven after my father beat the crap out of her one too many times,” he replied with a wink.

I shut my mouth, not sure what to say to that.

“So what made you decide that enough was enough at eleven?”
What?
He turned the tables on the conversation so quickly it had left me breathless.

“That was my third attempt. Why?” I shrugged. “If I knew the answer to that, I'd be in a better place than I am now. I don't know. I've seen so many therapists, and none of them have been able to tell me what the fuck is wrong with me.”

“Can you describe it?”

I looked at him, shocked. “What I do?” I asked, confused. That sounded so…morbid.

He chuckled. “No. How you
feel
. Just before you do it, what's going through your head?”

“I feel like . . . like there’s no point. To anything. I don't
hate
my life, but the uncertainty of everything I struggle to cope with. What is the point of living if all we do in the end is die?” I toyed with the edge of the blanket. “I’m not scared of dying itself…it’s not knowing. I guess that’s why so many people believe in a religion. The idea of death and dying becomes so much easier to deal with when you have some hope to cling to.”

“So it’s almost like you can't cope with not being in control.”

I nodded, wiping my eyes. “It's stupid, and irrational, and I know that, but I feel so empty and so overwhelmed. I'm convinced anything good that might come to me will end in some horrible way, and it’s just easier for me to end it all first.” I took a deep breath, staring out in the distance across the lake. “I don't want to be left alone, crying over what I've lost. I’d rather not have it at all. But then something comes along that challenges everything I’ve just said and I end up feeling confused, and even more alone.”

“Something…or someone?” asked Alex.

I didn’t need to answer that. He knew. Apparently everyone did.

“Have you lost anyone close to you before?”

“I've never let anyone get close enough for me to lose,” I mumbled, focusing on the blanket in my hands. “I lost a grandparent, but that’s it. I’ve never even had a pet to lose.”

“What about love? Have you ever been in love? Those kind of feelings about loss and death must be incredibly hard to cope with when you’re in love.” I shook my head.

That was the point. I avoided love to avoid the pain. I kept myself closed off so as not to feel pain, and because the only thing worse than not knowing what comes after death would be knowing I’ve left someone behind.

“The thought of being in love scares me.”

“It scares a lot of people,” he pointed out.

“True, but most people don’t avoid it. Most people take the challenges of falling in love along with the good things about it.” I blushed. Talking about love felt weird.

“Do you see the good things about love?”

That was a good question. I thought about it. “I see why people fall in love, but…I don’t know. One moment I think how wonderful it would be to have that kind of bond with someone, but then…” I broke off. No. I
needed
to say this. I needed to get it out. “Then I think about how falling in love with me could ruin someone.”

Alex furrowed his brow, deep in thought. “How would it ruin them?”

I shrugged. “Being in love with me…how would that person react if I killed myself? How could you
not
blame yourself for that?” Did this make me sound self-indulged?

“People blame themselves for many things, Rose. Last words, actions,
not
acting. There are so many things that can go wrong with love, but what you feel when you’re in love and truly let yourself go? That’s what makes it all worth it.”

#

Pulling away from the park, I suddenly swerved up Fifth Street. I parked a little way down from the food truck, pretending I hadn’t just stuffed my face full of sandwiches and cake. I needed tacos, and I needed them now.

As I approached the truck, I thought about Jack. The bar was only two streets over. I fumbled through my pocket for my cell. After I had his details up, I quickly typed a message.

I’m on Fifth about to overindulge in Tacos. Care to join me?

I pressed send before I could change my mind. This was so not me. I didn’t chase guys. Not that I was doing that with Jack. All I knew was he was cute and fun to be around. And he was oblivious to how good tacos could really be. I jumped as my phone vibrated. Shit!

Give me five minutes

The panic began to set in. I’d expected him to shoot me down. The fact that he’d said yes unleashed a whole new explosion of questions. Was he just hungry, or was there more to it? There had been lots of glances and ‘accidental’ touches over the last few days, but we still hadn’t spent any more time together since that first day. I wanted to know him. What did he like? What made him tick? There were so many things I wanted to know about this guy.

I wandered up and down the sidewalk, window shopping while I waited for him. Looking up, I saw him walking to me from the other direction. Wow. How hot can he be? If it were possible, he looked even sexier today in a pair of jeans and a fitted tee. The fabric clung to his biceps, showing off his amazing muscles. His hair looked untouched from bed, but it suited him.

“Hey,” he smiled. He glanced at the old, rusting tuck we were now standing in front of. “So this is the famous home to the world’s best Tacos?” he teased, cocking his head. My knees went weak.

“At least Brooklyn,” I assured him. We approached the truck and placed our orders. I went with my usual fish and guacamole combo, while Jack stuck to a classic.

“Fish and Tacos? Sorry, I just can’t do it,” he laughed, screwing up his face. “I mean, that has to be the oddest combination ever.”

“What? You’re British. You guys invented bad food,” I retorted with a smirk. “This is gourmet compared to some of the shit that comes out of your country.”

“Oh, you’re going there, are you? I don’t know Rose, some of the food I’ve seen while here…” he shuddered. I laughed as I took our food from the vendor.

“Just shut up and eat,” I grumbled playfully, passing him his. We walked over to a small park and sat down at a table. Unwrapping my Taco, my mouth watered at the wonderful aromas. I took a bite and nearly orgasmed on the spot.

“Oh god,” I mumbled, covering my mouth with my hand. “Soo good.” Jack snorted and shook his head. “What?” I said, between mouthfuls.

“Should I leave you and your taco alone?” he teased. I glowered at him, then went back to my food. “So, I get the feeling you’re not from around here?”

“Why do you say that?” I asked, surprised.

He shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

“I’m from Manhattan. So I stick out here, do I?”

I was only half joking. Sticking out in a crowd was the story of my life and one of my biggest anxieties. I liked to be invisible. I liked not being noticed. At least I though that’s what I wanted. Looking at Jack, I could see the benefits of standing out.

“To me you do, but I know what that’s like, so it’s easy to spot.” Was he talking about being a Brit in the States, or was he referring to something more personal…like family? “Sometimes it’s nice to be noticed. Having someone appreciate you can be an incredible thing.” I looked at him curiously, intrigued by how deep his comment was.

“How did you end up with a girl like Harmony?” I blurted out. I winced. What a totally awful thing to ask someone, especially considering I knew nothing about their relationship. The thing was, you don’t look at someone the way he’d been looking at
me
when you’re in a happy relationship.

“Fair question,” Jack said, amused. “I guess Harmony stops me from seeing what else is out there.” A sadness filled his eyes. “I’ve been hurt in the past, and Harmony is—was—like a buffer. Falling in love can happen so covertly. And by the time you
do
realize it’s beginning to happen, it’s too late, all you can do is go along with it, the good and the bad.” He made a face. “And that’s my cue to leave,” he joked, “This has been good, Rose. Thanks for inviting me out.”

“And?” I asked, nodding toward his empty food wrapper. He laughed heartily.

“Well, I’m by no means an expert, but yes, it was pretty damn good.” Yes! I don’t know why hearing him admit that felt so good, but it did. And I was sure I was grinning like an idiot. He stood up, brushing a few stray crumbs off his clothes. “I better get back to work. I’ll see you tonight.” He winked at me before walking off. I staying sitting as my eyes followed him off into the distance. The familiar wave of anxiety began to work through me as my head began to process what he’d said. I felt so bad for him. I couldn’t even imagine what had led to him being left feeling so broken and alone. I’d want to reach out and hug him and show him he didn’t need to be alone, yet at the same time his actions mirrored my own. How could I be so affected by his words when I ignored the same feelings of abandonment in myself?

Rose, what the hell are you doing?

Chapter Twelve

Jack
.

Working with Rose wasn’t quite as bad as I’d expected. At work she was as professional and focused as anyone else. She worked hard, and fast. And I’d lost count of the number of times my eyes had wandered over to her. A quick glance here. Pretending to write invoices when what I was really doing was checking out her ass.

I’d been shocked, to say the least, when she’d texted me, but saying no hadn’t been an option. The thought of learning more about her was an opportunity that was too good to pass up. That had been three days ago, and I so badly wanted to ask her out again. But something was stopping me. She was getting to me, and I needed to be careful. Avoiding seeing her out of work was a good start. I’d opened up to her way more than I should’ve—more than I had to anyone else—even Alex.

That scared the hell out of me.

After giving the apartment a quick tidy up, I grabbed my keys and my phone and walked downstairs. I needed to get some air. The sun was out, but the cool breeze that was blowing made me wish I’d grabbed a jacket. My phone buzzed in my hand. I checked the ID and saw her name. Rose.

“Hello?” My heart pounded as I waited to hear her voice float through.

“Hi. Jack. How are you?” She sounded as nervous as hell, which made me smile. “I was wondering…if you wanted to catch up for a coffee?” her voice squeaked by the end of the sentence.

“I’ve got a better idea. Text me your address. Can you be ready in ten?” My plan of avoiding contact with her out of work was going really well. That had lasted what, five minutes?

I pulled up outside a very familiar apartment complex on the north side of town. She was waiting for me, sitting on the bottom step of the stairwell that led inside. Her face lit up when she was me. She stood up, brushed off her ass—which made me laugh—then walked over to my car.

“Well, this place looks familiar,” I commented as she buckled up her belt.

“That’s right. Darcy said you used to live here. In
my
apartment,” she added mischievously.

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel, the thought of her in my old place making me feel dizzy. Images flashed through my head; her in my shower…did she walk around the place naked? Which bedroom was hers? God, if it was my old room, I’d lose it. I could picture her, lying there naked, touching herself.

“You right there?” She was smiling at me, her eyes slightly narrowed, like she was trying to figure me out.

“Yeah. I’m fine. So, how do you feel about the beach?” I asked. Her eyes widened.

“You’re taking me to the beach?” she repeated. I laughed. She didn’t look impressed.

“What?” I chuckled. “Where not going in the water. There is the best pizza down near the jetty. My turn to teach you a few things.”

She blushed as I winked at her. Yep. This girl was cute alright. I pulled out onto the street and turned left. Next to me, Rose hummed softly to the tune on the radio. I pulled up in an angle park opposite the beach. We both got out, and crossed the road.

We walked down the footpath that stretched along the length of the beach until we came to
Giuseppe’s
. Rose raised her eyebrows at me as I opened the door for her. “Just go in,” I said, rolling my eyes. She laughed as she entered the restaurant. Well, maybe ‘shack’ would be a more accurate term for this place. A converted beach bar,
Giuseppe’s
was home to some of the best pizza in the country.

We sat down and looked over the menu. I ordered a Brooklyn special, which was piled with pretty much everything. Rose ordered a rosemary and potato focaccia.

“Fancy,” I said, raising my eyebrows. She laughed.

“I wouldn’t go as far as fancy, but yes. Compared to your pile of…slush I suppose it
is
fancy,” she replied.

I snorted. Did she just call my pizza a pile of slush? This, coming from the Taco truck girl.

“So Jack. Tell me three things your friends don’t know about you?” Her question caught me by surprise. Three things. I thought hard, trying to come up with something witty and original.

“I have a secret addiction to
Project Runway
, I’ve been known to live off paper plates so I don’t have to wash-up and one of my new favorite foods is street tacos.” My reply came out immediately.
Jack, Jack, Jack. Seriously?

Rose burst out laughing.

“Project Runway? Is it a Heidi thing?” she sputtered. She laughed, as her cheeks went pink and her eyes sparkled.
Why did I just admit that to her?

“No. I had nothing to do one day and ended up sitting through an eight hour marathon. It was all over for me from there,” I joked. ‘Now, you’re turn. No holding back either,” I warned her.