I wouldn’t let them believe they were unworthy of love.
I would not be like my own mother.
– Leo
“Why thank you,” he says, kissing me. He pulls away with the intent of a quick kiss but seems to change his mind once he has tasted me. He grabs me by the nape of my neck, the other hand wrapping around my waist, fully encircling it with his long arm. When he holds me like this, covering my entire body with his own, I am protected.
His tongue traces my bottom lip, asking for permission, but he is always welcome. I open for him, allowing him in, giving him my surrender. My hands snake between his sweater and letterman jacket. I grip the knitted fabric, holding on for dear life. When wepull back after what feels like a lifetime but not enough time, he rests his forehead against mine.
"Thank you, Leo. I know that giving me pieces of yourself is difficult. But know that I will take care of them. All I have ever wanted is you, pretty bird. You don't need to be scared. Nothing will take me from you."
I giggle, but it's full of doubt. "You sound so sure. You don't even know what's in those notes. I could confess that I am a serial killer."
"Then I'll be your next victim." There is a light in his eyes now. He knows that I am trying to hide my insecurities with humor, and he plays right along. It's one of my favorite things about him. He doesn't push me. He gently guides me to safety with his love and acceptance. I keep waiting to find something wrong with this man—anything, really—but I am still waiting. He is perfect.
“Are you still coming to the game?”
They have a home game tonight, and I told him I would go with Gage. Gage was reluctant. He doesn't go to games. He's more of a homebody who tries to hack the FBI. But Ev asked if he would go with me. He knew I wouldn't go if I had to go alone.
“Yup. I’ll be there.”
He pulls me close and kisses me. He kisses me as if trying to consume my sadness. As if he could siphon away my sorrow with his lips. It’s addicting. I feel like it’s just us, in this dark and cruel world. When I’m wrapped up in his arms, the rest of the world is a blur. It’s the few times I feel whole.
The game isn’t till seven, so I have some time to kill. I head to the coffee shop to work till 6:30 and find that the shop is quiet. Unusualfor a Friday. With the shop so close to the stadium, we usually get a pre-game rush, but I guess not today.
The bell overhead announces my arrival. Ski is behind the bar, drying a mug.
“Hey, old man. How was your day?”
“Hey, sweetie. It was good. Pretty busy, actually. Even though it doesn’t look it now.”
“Well, I’m glad.” I make my coffee and take a sip then catch Ski staring at me with his brow raised.
“What?” I let out an annoyed sigh.
“You over-frothed your cream and forgot your cinnamon. You never over froth and forget your cinnamon. What's on your mind?”
What is wrong with me? “Oh my God. No wonder it tasted off. I'm afraid I'm a little distracted today. Might not be at peak Leo performance.” I top it with cinnamon but leave the cream. It will mix in.
“Ahh, it’s okay. Even off your game, you still make the meanest cup o’ joe.” He comes to stand next to me, both of us leaning back against the bar. He uses his shoulder to bump my own, although because I am so short, it’s more like his elbow that bumps my shoulder. "What's wrong, sweetie?"
“Everett. I told him about my mother.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing. Yet. I wrote it in a note and gave it to him right before the game. With prepping for the game, I don't think he will read it till later. At least, that's what I'm hoping, I want one more night of him before he decides I'm not right for him.”
One thing I have always appreciated about Ski is how he takes his time before responding. It's like he listens and then digests what you said so that his response can be meaningful. And he always offers advice and words that are never wasted; everything he says, he means.
“You know, I never liked the mayor. Biggest prick I ever met. But if he raised a son that you fell in love with, then he must have done a decent job. You guard your heart with an iron will, only letting a few in, and there is nothing wrong with that. I understand it. You have to trust in yourself enough to know that whoever you let your guard down to will take care of your heart.”
“You think so? You think he will accept me, knowing where I come from? He isn’t like me. He has everything he could want for, a future that is so bright no matter what path he decides to take. But if he is attached to me and all my baggage, I’m afraid he won't reach his true potential. I know that he cares for me enough to sacrifice his future. I don't want that, I don't want to drag him down.”
“Maybe being yours is all he wants. We can’t decide for others what their future should be like. That’s his decision. And if he chooses you as his future, you need to trust that it’s what he wants.”
When I don't respond right away, he continues. "Did I ever tell you about how Millie and I met?"
My mood instantly changes. I love hearing about him and Millie. And I could use a distraction. But knowing Ski, there will be some life lesson in the story he is about to tell me.
