Page 51 of One Night Stand After Another
He’d been shameless, exuberant in his determination to give her pleasure this week, to take her higher and higher. Was it any wonder she couldn’t look at him without getting turned on? Even his feet, sockless in loafers, aroused her.
A flush spread over her skin. She tugged her hand from his and walked toward the only unlit storefront on the Boardwalk to give them a little privacy. He followed her under the brightly-striped red-and-purple awning. Their road trip was over, but after all the energy he’d put into making her happy and all the kind things he’d said about her talent, he deserved to know why following her plan was so crucial. She took a breath and met his crystalline gaze, smiling ruefully when their connection snapped into place.
“Zane, when I was five, my parents were still married. My dad was an artist, a good one. He had shows in Manhattan all the time. He was featured in theTimes, hyped to be the next big thing, so he quit his day job and focused on his art. On creating. But creativity ebbs and flows. His ebbed. Then he went looking for it in a bottle.
“Eventually, my mother got another job. My dad stopped trying to find his muse, but he didn’t stop drinking. My mother divorced him when I was ten. I only hear from him on birthdays and Christmas now. It was a good lesson for me. Passion doesn’t put food on the table. You can’t trust it. Just when you think you’ve got it made, you can lose everything”
Zane frowned. “But you got that grant. You were planning to take a gap year after high school, right? To work and create, maybe travel? You told me all about it at the graduation party.”
“And my mother was losing her mind. I’m a lot like my dad, single-minded, passionate. In retrospect, I guess kissing you and fleeing to college was the best thing that ever happened to me. I never told my mother why I changed my mind, but I know she was overjoyed. Trusting passion isn’t something I will ever do again.” She hardened her heart against the confusion in Zane’s gaze.
“You might be as talented as your father, Clara, but your circumstances and choices are completely different. Your father hit a bump and turned to alcohol. You spent years getting an MBA, building a portfolio, and creating a de facto business plan.”
“I don’t have a business plan or a portfolio.”
“No?” he countered. “You have an awesome website that is literally poised to take off and make you tons of money. You write incredible copy. You honed your craft for ten years while learning everything you need to know to build a successful business. Think about Yarn Heaven, the alpacas, the Slip Stitch Café, and Jimmy Banan’s showroom. Those businesses are making bank. You’d be wasting your talent crunching numbers for the Fiber King when you could create your own money-making yarn destination.”
Her brain spun with ideas. There was no way she could listen to him without daydreaming a little, but that didn’t mean he was right. He took her hand and pulled her deeper under the awning. She didn’t resist because it felt so good to touch him, and she wouldn’t have many more chances.
“This is the location I looked at today, Clara.” Zane gestured at the glass door flanked by two broad windows. “It’s a great space. My preference would be to do something like the Slip Stitch Café—restaurant on the first floor, all things yarn upstairs, but I’m flexible. Roman has demographics on the area that would blow your mind. There’s a huge fiber arts community, but nothing with food. I checked out every café in walking distance, and I already have a ton of menu ideas. We get along great, Clara. I’m not ready for our week to be over. Let’s do this—together.”
All the air left her lungs. He was serious. His confident gaze was rock steady. His hands holding hers were warm, firm, and tempting.
Terror pierced her heart, and she began to tremble. “Zane, I can’t—”
“Don’t say that, Clara. Think about it first. Look in the window,” he implored.
“No.” She pulled out of his grip and turned away from the intriguing shadows inside the building. They weren’t for her. “I won’t let you blow me off course. Not again. In theory, it sounds amazing, but I know my instincts can’t be trusted, especially when it comes to you. I made that mistake once, and it took me ten years to get back on track. I honestly can’t believe I did it again.” A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat. “What was I thinking? Do supply closets kill brain cells? I’ve never had a one-night stand in my life, and I just had nearly a week of them with you. So stupid. Seriously, do I never learn?”
He flinched, and she opened her mouth, not to take back her words, but to somehow try to soften them. He wasn’t trying to hurt her. He wasn’t being cruel. He was offering to help her, but he wasn’t listening. He didn’t understand how badly she needed to stick to her plan.
“Stupid, huh?” His voice was quiet. “I disagree. Wasting a year traveling when you don’t know anything about starting a business is immature, self-indulgent, and stupid. Going to college and learning how to build a life with your talent is brilliant. Hooking up with a guy who can offer you nothing is stupid. Hooking up with a guy who thinks you are insanely talented and wants to bring your dreams to life in whatever shape you wish is a fantastic idea, but I guess I’m biased.”
He shook his head. “You think you can’t trust your instincts? That’s bullshit. Your instincts made you say yes to me. We click, Clara. We clicked ten years ago, and it’s even better now. No matter what you say, you’re an artist. You turn experiences into art. Judging from your recent posts on your blog, I’d say hooking up with me was inspirational.” His sensual lips curved in a mocking twist. “Should we count how many people have commented and asked where they can buy your red-and-gray sweater? How many people love your suggestion for when it could be worn?”
She flushed. “Low blow, Zane.”
“I don’t want to fight, Clara. I want you to give me a chance. To consider your options. If you do what you love instead of what you ‘don’t hate’ you could be as happy as you’ve looked every day on our trip.”
But doing what you love only worked when you had a plan, at least for people like her. “Zane, I’ve been on vacation with a handsome man hell-bent on showing me a good time in every way possible. Your competitive instinct has led you to great lengths this week. But it isn’t real life. It never was. It always had an expiration date, which is now.”
“Wait—we have one more night. Your interview isn’t until tomorrow.”
She lifted her chin and gazed straight into his diamond-gray gaze. Their connection was still there, still strong, still dangerous.
She forced her lips to move. “Not anymore. Our extended one-night stand is officially over.”
Chapter Seventeen
Zane stared at her, mind reeling, trying to figure out how to fix this. He didn’t want them to be over. He’d never felt this way before. He literally wanted to give her everything she wanted. Anything. They were so good together. How could she not see it?
She wasn’t even willing to consider spending more time with him, so he’d never know what made her so unwilling to see her talent, so unable to choose a path that would take her toward greatness with a little bit of help, from him or from any one of the resources he’d discovered while securing funding for his first restaurant. At that point in his life, it had taken a hell of a lot of help. Maybe she had too much pride?
He’d never know. Because whatever it was that prevented her from seeing herself clearly also made it impossible for her to see him. There was no way for him to win. No way to fix it. He couldn’t show her how to trust herself, how to believe in something so hard you made it happen by any means necessary, not if she didn’t share his goal.
And damn it, he shouldn’t have to convince her to give him another chance, to care about him, to see his worth, to want him for more than a night—or several.
Clara was right. He couldn’t take the choice away from her, and she wasn’t choosing him. Somehow, he had to accept it.
