Page 51 of Flirting with Trouble

“Noah still plays, and he’s gotten better over the years. Not to brag or anything, but Seth and I have always been pretty good at it. We used to do these ridiculous concerts for our parents. I don’t know how they watched us without laughing.”

“I bet you were adorable, rocking out with pigtails, on a guitar that was bigger than you.”

She laughs. “Painting your own pictures now?”

“Absolutely. I want to see you play.”

“I don’t play much anymore.”

“Don’t you enjoy it?”

“Yes, very much, but life got busy, I guess,” she says as we walk beneath an umbrella of trees.

“Sounds like you’ve slipped into the trap of living to work instead of working to live.” I can’t resist stopping right there on the path and drawing her into my arms. Moonlight filters through the branches, glittering in her eyes. “You need to make time to play, and I’d love to be there when you do.”

She smiles and shakes her head, like I’ve said something silly.

“I’m serious. When I was a kid, Olivier said, ‘Make a life you don’t need a vacation from.’ I didn’t understand what he meant back then, but as I got older, I realized that was why he was so happy all the time. He built a life around the things he enjoyed doing and the people he loved. I know you love your work, and maybe you built a life you didn’t need a vacation from with Harvey.”

Her expression turns contemplative.

“I also know you’re still trying to figure out what life looks like without him, and there’s no rush.” I caress her cheek, letting her process that. “All I’m saying is that I’m hearing how much you miss some of the things you’ve given up, and I like exploring them with you. It doesn’t have to mean anything big or scary. I told you I want to be that friend you can rely on and share things with, and I meant it. You can call me and say you want to play jacks in the middle of the sidewalk in Manhattan, and I’ll show up with a box of them and one of those little rubber balls my sisters used to play with.”

She laughs a little.

“If that’s not your thing, and you want to fly to the South of France and hit the nude beaches, I’m your guy.”

“Nude beaches?” She arches a brow.

“I like hanging out with you, Victory. Doing things you miss, and discovering new things you like makes it even more fun.”

She grabs my shirt with both hands and bangs her forehead against my chest. “Why do you do this to me?”

“Do what?”

She tips her face up, confusion riddling her brow. “Make me like you so much when I’m trying not to.”

“It’s a curse. Just go with it.” I press my lips to hers, and she smiles against them. I take her hand again and start walking, hoping to keep her from overthinking. “So you wanted to be a rock star when you were little, and Victorious was your rock-star name, wasn’t it?”

“No, and I didn’t want to be a rock star.”

“I think you did,” I tease. “Did you go to many concerts as a kid and pretend you were the one onstage?”

“No. But my parents did take us all to see Bon Jovi’s Crush tour when I was a teenager because I was so in love with them.”

“A’right, Mom and Dad. That’s awesome. What did you want to be when you grew up?”

“I don’t think I had any idea of what I wanted to be. I spent most of my time wrangling my younger brothers, trying to keep them in line and organized. I guess I always thought I’d be someone who did something like that.”

“A bossy people wrangler?”

“Exactly,” she says proudly. “And I’m damn good at it.”

As we come out from under the umbrella of trees, I spot a playground. “Check it out.” Tugging her with me, I jog in that direction.

“Why are we running?” She laughs, hurrying to keep up.

“You have to run when you see a playground. It’s a rule.” I grab the chains of one of the swings and hold them. “Your seat, m’lady.”