City of Sin (The Vegas Men 2)

All of this is a start reminder of the real parts of my life that I can’t share with Mia, the reasons why we can’t ever be real… at least for the moment, maybe the time will come. So, for now I just need to focus on living in the moment, just enjoying my time with Mia. She doesn’t have a desperate need to know if things are serious or not, and that’s how I need to be. Casual, fun, just dating…

Then when the time comes, if it ever comes, then I’ll explain why I kept it to myself for a while. I’m sure she’ll understand. I can only hope anyway.

I grab a selection of pastries and some nice coffee too, to take back to Mia’s with me. As I step inside, I find her all curled up on the couch in a spaghetti strap vest top and pajama shorts. It doesn’t seem to matter what she wears, she’s always absolutely gorgeous to me.

“Ooh, something smells nice!” Her eyes light up with glee. “Thank you, Noah.”

I sit with her and we eat our food while talking about nothing in particular, but all the time I keep looking over to her paintings, marveling in them, and it gets to the point where she feels the need to address it.

“I will do a painting for your gym,” she tells me with a false confidence. “Not one for you to buy, just because.”

“You will?” My heart leaps with joy. “That’s amazing, but I will buy it.”

“No, I don’t want you to. I wouldn’t have started to paint again if it wasn’t for you.”

That stills me, my insides freeze. I can’t actually believe what I’m hearing. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She giggles and nods. “Your suggestion made me paint for the first time in over a year. Well, longer than that actually, it was a good couple of years, which seems crazy now…”

I need to get to the bottom of this and I’m sure this is the time to ask. She actually looks ready to open up. “Why did you stop? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“No, I don’t mind.” Her eyes fall to the floor. “I had a bad time a year ago. I… well, my mom died of Cancer.”

“Oh no, that’s horrible.” Now I felt bad for getting her to talk about it. “I’m sorry. Is that why you’re running the marathon? It’s a Cancer charity that you’re doing it for, isn’t it? That’s really admirable.”

“Actually, Kayleigh talked me into it, but yeah, that’s why.”

I reach out to hug her but it seems that she isn’t finished yet. “I also found my boyfriend in bed with another woman. My bed, while my mom was in hospital getting treatment for her illness. Dying, really.”

“Oh wow… that is rough. That’s disgusting.” I feel quite ill. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

She offers me a weak smile. “You know what? It did me a favor. It wasn’t exactly a nice relationship. Looking back, it was very toxic and I got sucked into a nasty bubble. He put me down so much I didn’t see myself worthy. That’s why I stopped painting. My career as an artist wasn’t exactly flying high anyway, so it was easy for me to just give up on it. That’s why I stopped painting, because… well, I felt like a failure.”

Shit. Mia has just peeled back a very thick layer to me and now she’s vulnerable, opening up. Without even meaning to, this has now taken another turn and it’s become something much more serious. The thing is, I like it. It pleases me that she’s so comfortable with me to tell me about her past.

It just means that I should also open up to her. But the words don’t come. They can’t.

“Wow, that’s rough. I’m so sorry you went through all of that.”

“Yeah, well I’m okay. I got through it. I’m stronger now. It’s all behind me, in the past.”

“I can see it.” I slide closer to her and kiss her. “To me, you’re impressively strong.”

Then she melts into my arms again and any thought of me opening up flies out the window. I just can’t do it quite yet…

* * *

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Mia pouts as she runs her fingers through her mussed up hair. “I’ll miss you.”

“I know, trust me.” I kiss her again. “I would love to stay here all day, but I have… work to do. Meetings with investors to attend, that sort of thing. You know I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t have to.”

The lie falls out of my mouth too easily, I feel dreadful about it, but I didn’t quite find the right moment to tell her and I’m still not convinced that the timing is right anyway. Soon though… probably.

“You’re such a workaholic, it’s adorable.” She brushes her thumb over me. “No wonder you’re successful.”

“How are you going to spend the rest of the day?”

“Painting, obviously.” She grins. “I have to get a piece ready for you, don’t I? And since I’m not working at the bank I figure I should spend my day productively.”