After the server leaves, Piper takes a long sip of her coffee. She lets out a soft moan.
Damn, the places my mind is going.
"Sorry, it's good." She offers me a sip.
I take it, but I can't say the drink is inspiring any sort of pleasure or desire. The way her cheeks are flushed, the way her eyes are fixed on me—
I pass the drink back. "Your parents could support you while you pursue acting."
"I know." She downs half her drink. "But as long as I take their money or live at their place, I owe them. I have to accept their bullshit and go to dinner with them when they're in town and listen to them talk about their work. I have to pretend like it's okay they don't give a fuck about us."
"You shouldn't let that keep you from what you're passionate about."
"I'm passionate about my parents being out of my life."
"Mal or Ethan would help you out."
"Money always comes with strings."
I can't exactly argue that point. It's admirable that Piper wants to stand on her own two feet, but I hate the idea of her stepping away from her passion because she has a messy relationship with her parents.
I'm not standing back and watching it happen. I make my voice matter of fact. "What do you do in your free time?"
"I know what you're doing."
"Tell me anyway."
She takes another sip of coffee. "I watch TV. I go to yoga. I hang out with my friends. Well, not as much since Rory got a boyfriend, but I still see her sometimes. And my other friends too."
I cock a brow. "What else?"
"Stop it, Kit. I got the point. I don't need any more people telling me what I should do with my life." Her blue eyes flare with frustration. "What's wrong with being practical? What's wrong with wanting to have a nice apartment and enough security to pay your bills? Isn't that as exciting as a career that lights you up inside?"
"No."
"Good thing it's my life and I get to make my own decisions."
"You won't be happy like that."
She frowns but her voice stays even. "You don't know that." She looks up at me, her blue eyes wide and vulnerable.
She's after comfort and not the kind a friend provides.
I want to give her that comfort.
She's not a kid to me, not anymore. She's a woman, and she's a woman I want in my bed. Fuck, I want her spending the night. I want to make her breakfast. I want to be on the other end of the phone when she needs someone to talk to.
I clear my throat. "Does acting light you up inside?"
"Maybe."
"Yes or no?"
She presses her lips together. Her expression screams yes but she admits nothing. "Maybe."
"Yes or no?"
"Yes, okay."