I rub my eyes, wishing I could undo what I said and stop myself from ruining my life, like I always do. “It’s nothing, I’m tired.”
“Don’t give me that. If anything I deserve your honesty, and right now I need you to be totally and completely honest—”
I cut her off, my voice cracking. “I love you! Okay?”
Lex blinks several times. Neither of us move.
I’ve said this much—may as well get it all out now rather than drag it on and delay the inevitable. Keeping my voice low, but unable to stop it from shaking, I lock eyes with her so she can see the truth in everything I say.
“These past few months I’ve been on a lot of dates with a lot of different people, people that I should have been attracted to and intrigued by and wanting to spend more time with. But I wasn’t. Every conversation I had with someone else, I was wondering what you’d say, what interesting anecdote you’d tell me... I could hear your voice in my head and it would always make me smile. At the end of every date, all I wanted was to be with you. Whenever I was out with a guy all I could think about was getting to spend time with you after—eating ice cream or getting a cheeseburger, or relaxing on my couch with a glass of wine and takeout and an old movie, or making dinner for you and Gabe.Youwere the best part of every single oneof those dates.” I swallow past the lump in my throat, my heart aching. “I don’t want to go on dates with anyone else. And I don’t want to just be friends with you, Lex. I can’t be. I want so much more than that.”
Lex steps back outside and turns away from me, one hand on her hip and the other on her forehead.
“I know. It’s so messed up. But, Lex, I—” I follow her into the backyard and reach for her, but she withdraws, pulling away like I’m a snake, andfuckif this isn’t more painful than all the rejections I’ve faced on all my terrible dates combined. Tears burn behind my eyes but I force them back, choking on them.
“Sorry.” Lex’s voice is thick as she battles with her own emotions. “I just... I need some time to think.”
“Of course,” I sniffle, barely breathing.
Then, without even looking me in the eye, Lex turns and leaves me all alone in the empty doorway with nothing but my naked confession and a cracked-open heart. The moment I hear the gate click softly behind her I collapse against the wall and slide down to the ground. The tears I’d worked so desperately to hide finally spill down my cheeks. A sob racks through my body like I’ve just lost the love of my life and best friend all in a single moment of selfish stupidity.
Because that’s exactly what I’ve done.
chapter nineteen
Queer Enough
My front door opens and I sit up so quickly my head spins. I’m disoriented, looking about my living room in confusion. It’s light outside. I must have passed out on the couch after a much-needed cry session. After Lex left, all I could muster was self-medicating with carbs, sugar, and an old Ben Stiller rom-com—anything to distract me from the pain of watching Lex walk away from me after confessing my love for her.
Tentative steps echo down the stairway before Lex appears at the bottom, coffees and a brown paper sack smelling of cinnamon in hand. My heart swells at the sight of her, and it’s all I can do not to leap from the couch and sweep her into a hug. She hasn’t abandoned me—of course, she wouldn’t.
“Do you not lock your door?” she chastises. “I could have been anyone.”
I huff a laugh as I rub crusts from my eyes. “I forgot.”
Lex regards me for a long moment. “Did you sleep on the couch last night?”
“Maybe,” I say, drawing the blanket over my threadbare top. “What are you doing here?”
Lex comes around the side of the couch and sits on the edge of the cushion, setting her items on the coffee table among the detritus of my sad-girl binge-fest before resting her forearms on her knees. She keeps her eyes fixed on the floor, and for a moment I wonder if she heard me. “I’m sorry I left last night. I needed to think.”
I nod. “Me, too.”
“Did you mean what you said?” she asks, her voice low and quiet.
I nod again. Lex looks up at me, catching the movement, before returning her gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice wavering.
“Don’t be sorry for that,” she says. “Don’t ever be sorry for speaking your truth.”
“But I ruined everything.” My throat constricts as the tears from last night threaten to reappear.
Lex’s hand lifts, hovers over my leg, and then she places her hand atop my knee, sending a rush of warmth cascading along my skin.
“Look at me,” Lex whispers.
I bite my lip. Shake my head. I can’t. If she looks into my eyes right now, I’m sure she’ll see my soul. I’m too vulnerable and raw.
“Look at me,” she says again, louder, more commanding.
