Take a Bow (The Perfect Plans Series Book 2) by C.J. Wells Page A

beneath, before allowing my own perception to come into play. We can never predict the reactions of others to our own actions, Aby. Anymore than they can truly perceive them in light of our honest intent.”
    “Wow. That’s deep.” I try to hide my smile. He’s being sincere, and I feel bad for making a joke.
    “I’m just suggesting that perhaps you should try that with your Mum.” He offers a closed lip smile with a small shrug, before his lips curl into a playful grin.
    He’s the sweetest man I’ve ever met. His boyish charm is ridiculous.
    “So, essentially,” I smile at him genially in return, “…you’re suggesting I’m projecting my own self doubts onto the actions of my well-meaning mother.”
    “Essentially, yes.” He squeezes my hand, and I bump into him playfully as we walk. “Your Mum adores you and your sister equally, Aby. I can see that. Why can’t you?”
    “I know she does,” I sigh. “And I know you’re right. I do look for things in everything she does, and take them the wrong way. But,” I put my finger up with a laugh, “…she still drives me crazy regardless.”
    “Because she loves you, worries about you, and wants the best for her daughter. I’m sure Anna would agree with everything you’re feeling, Aby. I do see how my Mum treats her daughter differently than she does her son.”
    “Ahhh, the proverbial son,” I tease and he laughs, pursing his lips.
    “I wouldn’t say I’m spoiled . My father would never allow his son to ride the easy road. That being said, yes, Mum does dote on me,” he flashes that boyish smile that pulls at my heartstrings. “So have you ever spoken to Beth about how you feel? Perhaps she feels the same way, and you’re simply unaware.”
    “I seriously doubt that,” I mutter, suddenly realizing I’m doing it again. Perception…Assumptions and presumptions. Yeah, it’s definitely a bad habit. “Communication is not exactly my family’s strong suit,” I add, grimacing at my part in the lack there of.
    “So, I’m assuming ,” he nudges me teasingly, “…you haven’t spoken to your Mum about it before either.”
    “Now that, Dr. Tate, is a very good assumption. See, they’re not all bad,” I laugh. “Mom would never be open to such a conversation. She’d take it completely offside as a negative attack and associate the entire ordeal as me blaming her, instead of trying to tell her how I fell. Translation, I’m assuming that she will assume wrongly. And I’m probably right.”
    “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” he squeezes my hand again, and I turn to take in his mocking smile.
    “No, I guess it doesn’t,” I laugh.
    We fall back into peaceful silence, our gait having moved into the oceans waves. This feels right. Being open with Alex. Sharing my demons and talking through them. I’m a work in progress. We’re a work in progress. And it feels wonderful. He feels wonderful.
    “Thank you,” I look towards him, captivated, grateful, for everything he is to me. “For the talk and the advice. For all of this,” I span the air around us. “For just being you,” I look into his eyes as we walk, the warm water rolling in over my sinking steps in the soft gooey sand.
    “You’re welcome,” he smiles bashfully. His humility melts my heart. “I would like to talk about what happened earlier as well,” he adds, his eyes on the stretch of beach ahead.
    “I’m open to talk about anything, but you’ll have to be a little more specific. Which part would you like to discuss? The one where you swept me off my feet, or the one where you swept me off my feet?”
    “Well, specifically ,” he glances towards me, “…the part when you bugged out a little when I mentioned the love word.”
    “I didn’t bug out .” I scrunch my nose in mock defiance. “You’re really picking up the North American slang, aren’t you? Maybe I’m a bad influence.”
    “Aby, I’m serious.”
    “Alex,” I stop abruptly, turning