The Vibrant Years(64)

She thought about Mom and what life might be like without her and felt sick to her stomach. Suddenly she remembered how he’d looked at her when he’d thought Cullie had thrown up because she was sick that first time they’d met.

His arms wrapped around himself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

She sidled up to him and laid an arm across his shoulder.

It made him laugh, a laugh that came from deep inside him and shook out through his shoulders, which were bulging with gym-rat-level muscles.

“Okay,” she said, unsure if she should be offended. She must be totally off her game if hugging a guy when he was sad made him laugh.

When she pulled away, he looked at her with the saddest eyes. “I’m not laughing at you. My mum was obsessed with seeing me ‘settled down’ before she died. So much so that she once suggested I use the fact that my mother has cancer to get women. Her exact words were, ‘There should be some advantage to this thing.’”

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. She sounds lovely.”

He wiped his eyes on his shoulder again. She couldn’t tell if the tears were from laughter or grief or both. “She was amazing. Big—not her size, her presence. One of those unapologetic people who radiate something special because they love who they are so wholly. She always said loving yourself is a foundational requirement of knowing how to love anyone else and that most meanness in the world comes from self-loathing.”

“She sounds a lot like my Binji. My grandmother. She’s like that. Big. A lot. But also the kindest, softest person I know. She’s hard to explain.”

He paled. Maybe comparing his dead mother to another woman was insensitive.

Before Cullie could apologize, he cleared his throat. “I’d love to meet her sometime. Your grandmother.” He said it with such tentativeness that she wanted to hug him again.

“Of course, you should come over for dinner. She would love you. She’s also an amazing cook. Especially if you like Goan food.”

“What kind of monster doesn’t like Goan food?”

“See, you’re the exact kind of cheesy that would totally get to her.” He was definitely getting to Cullie.

“What about your grandfather?” he asked. “Did he die before you were born, or did you know him?”

“How did you know my grandfather is dead?”

He blinked. “I . . . um . . . I . . . you said you grew up with your grandmother around, but you’ve never mentioned your grandfather, so I just assumed that she lived with you after you lost him. I didn’t mean to suggest . . . it’s really nice of you to invite me over.” He sounded adorably nervous.

“I have to warn you that there might be some subtle—or unsubtle—attempts at matchmaking.” Their eyes met, and his already flushed cheeks colored some more. “Ever since this app business started, my family seems to have decided that my singleness might be something they can solve.” Needing to be solved was one of Cullie’s least favorite things.

“What? They don’t buy into your belief that relationships cause misery?” He pressed his hand to his chest.

She mirrored his hand-on-heart action. “I don’t see you, Mr. Pushing Thirty, with a wife either.” As she said them, the words gave her pause. He’d been a little jumpy today. The attraction between them seemed to have come to a boil, and he seemed to be holding himself back.

He couldn’t possibly be married, could he?

The question must’ve shown on her face because his strong brows drew together. “Come on, Cullie.” He sounded angry for the first time since she’d met him. “You think I’d hide being married?”

“Sorry.” Suddenly she hated how all over the place her reactions to him were. “Of course I don’t think that. But I haven’t known you long enough to know what you would and would not do. What if you’ve also lied about being a filmmaker and are actually an actor?”

He looked stricken.

“I’m kidding! For someone I’ve just met, I totally trust you. I’m here. In your hotel room, feeling safe.” They were standing a little too close, and maybe she was being an idiot, because maybe it was dangerous to feel so safe when she also felt more vulnerable than she ever had. She didn’t do vulnerability, no matter how much Binji’s words from the other day rang in her head. The last time she’d gone anywhere near it, with Steve, she’d paid dearly. “Well, mostly safe.” It came out a whisper.

He finally did it: he pushed the hair that had flopped onto her forehead back. Something electric crackled beneath his fingers, surprising them both. His hand stilled, but instead of pulling away from the burn, he let the back of his fingers trace her cheek, light as feathers. The reverence in his touch made her tremble. She’d never been touched like this. Her body filled with the need to reach for it, to rise up on her toes, to give in to the curiosity, to see what the deal with that lush mouth was.

He withdrew his hand, fingers trembling from the effort, breath shallow.

The rest of his body was still close. “I was engaged once.” He swallowed, gaze steady on hers. “She was one of the residents on Ma’s oncology team.” He smiled. “Ma did get her wish of seeing me settled. Actually, Ma’s efforts at matchmaking were epic while she was in the hospital. She was convinced Leena would make me happy. As it turned out, Leena wasn’t happy with how sad I was after Ma passed. So she left. Because she ‘owed it to herself to be with someone who at least tried to be happy.’ It took my feet out from under me. I’ve been gun shy since, I guess.”