Now she’s wasting her time on a bunch of apps, hoping one of the assholes she meets there will treat her better than dickwad did, when I know for a fact that I can treat her better than all of them put together.
“A few weeks back, she was ready to cut and run without a second thought.”
If I hadn’t gone with her to that hovel she considered renting, there’s no doubt in my mind she would’ve been on that highway heading north and I never would’ve seen or heard from her again.
She’s still trying to figure her shit out, and I don’t need to fall for another girl who’s going to leave me when she decides I’m not enough.
My idiot cousin tucks the pencil behind his ear. “Have you told her how you feel?”
What are we? Two girls at a slumber party? “No.”
“And grandma thinks you’re the smart one,” August mutters, shaking his head. “Look. I might not know Loren very well, but from everything you’ve said about her and the few times we’ve hung out, I can tell you exactly what she’s looking for.”
Oh, look. August knows everything. Isn’t that great? “What’s that?”
“She’s looking for a reason to stay.”
Shit.
Shit.
His shoes squeak on the floor as he comes over to where I’ve frozen, my mind racing at a hundred miles an hour.
She’s looking for a reason to stay.
“If you want to be that reason, you’re going to have to peel back those oniony layers of yours and make yourself vulnerable.”
I’d rather stab myself with one of the paring knives we keep under the counter. “You’re a fucking onion.”
“You’re damn right I am. And when I find some lucky woman to settle down with, you’d better believe I’ll be shedding my skin.”
Despite his idiocy, August might have a point.
The problem is, being vulnerable requires a certain level of trust. And I refuse to take that step without being sure my insecurities aren’t going to drive Loren right out the damn door.
CHAPTER 39
LOREN
Meg
We need to talk.
Break room. 2 mins.
Oh no.
The dreaded “we need to talk.”
Did something else bad happen? I’ve been secretly double- and triple-checking all traffic and haven’t found any errors. What if something slipped through the cracks?
Then again, Meg did tell me to meet her in the break room, not the conference room, so maybe this isn’t dire.
Unfortunately, she’s not here yet, so I’m left waiting and worrying and stewing in that worry until a squeal erupts from outside the break room that makes The Librarian nearly drop his entire bowl of noodles.
Meg bursts through the door, jazz hands high and a grin splitting her face. “Ahhhh! I got the house!”
I leap to my feet, a squeal of my own screeching through my lips as we jump up and down for joy. This is huge! “Which one?”
