Your Fierce Love (The Bennett Family 7) - Page 72
“You’re angry.”
At least he has the good sense not to put a question mark at the end of that sentence. I whirl around, facing him, holding my chin high, my shoulders straight.
“Yes. So angry that if I had a pointy object now, I’d poke you with it repeatedly.”
“Machete or knife?”
“What?”
“The pointy object, would it be a machete or knife? I need to know how bad this is.”
“This is not a joke, Blake,” I say, deflated.
“You started with the pointy object,” he points out. He’s so calm, so collected, whereas I’m simmering with anger.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “Why are you doing this? Putting me on the spot? Pushing me?”
“Because you need to be pushed.”
“Wrong answer. This is not your call to make. I am not ready.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been working on this for more than ten years. The best things happen when you get out of your comfort zone.”
“Gah.” The nerve of him! “You say that because you always had a cushion to fall on.”
Jesus, I didn’t mean to raise my voice.
“I know that. Don’t think I ever take my privilege for granted.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to attack you. I just...I’m not ready,” I repeat.
Blake closes the distance between us. Brave of him, since my anger is still alive and simmering—coming close to a boil.
“You don’t see what I see.” He puts his hands on my shoulders, looking me straight in the eyes.
“Enlighten me. What do you see?” I challenge.
“A strong, hardworking woman who is afraid to put herself out there. You think your dream is safe as long as you keep it to yourself. You’re afraid that you’ll lose your safe haven if you get criticized.”
Wow. Wow. I couldn’t have put this into words any better.
“So, if you know all this, why push me?”
“Because you want to make this step, you’re just afraid. What’s the worst that can happen? Charlie says you still need to sharpen your skills. Your confidence will take a hit, maybe you’ll even stop illustrating for a while. But then eventually you’re going to start it again. If you don’t, I’m going to nag you until you start again just to shut me up.”
Poof, there’s my anger. Vanished into thin air. My current predicament revolves around having a knot in my throat, and if I try to form words in spite of it, they might come out mushy and emotional. Blake moves his hands from my shoulders to hold my face.
“You have no idea how amazing you are, Clara. But I do.” He presses his thumbs gently against my temple, the rest of his fingers splayed wide at the sides of my head. “If you really don’t want to show him your work, I’ll go down alone and make up an excuse.”
“Look at you, all democratic. Giving me a choice.”
He smiles, kissing my forehead.
“I’ll show it to him. I feel particularly brave. Will you stick around while he’s looking over them? Just in case my bravery deserts me and I try to make a run for it?”
“I’ll be there. Told you I have your back. I believe in you.”
***
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