Page 63 of 6 Clues Your Nemesis Loves You

“But you never told her about me.”

“Not specifically, no, but I eventually noticed what rough shape she was in. Losing E was like losing a limb for Delilah, and I was so stuck in my own spiral I didn’t notice at first.” She blinks quickly, sudden emotion shining in her eyes. “When I realized she was in trouble, verging on major self-destruction, I had no choice but to gather myself. Be there for my best friend. So yeah. We both came through, talking a lot about E leaving and my issues with my mother, which brings me back to us.”

Us. Such a small word, wrapped with life-altering implications. This whole night is wrapped with nothing but monumental ramifications. Thanks to E’s recent graphic novel, telling his life story in a fictional world, I know what devastation Delilah endured after he left her. Pain I can’t think about without getting choked up. Maggie’s turmoil doesn’t sound as devastating, but that time has left scars. I’ve left her with scars. “I wouldn’t have chased you so hard for a date if I’d known I’d hurt you that much.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Yes, you would’ve.”

I huff out a sad laugh. “Fine, I would’ve. But I’d have been subtler about my flirting.”

She traces random shapes on my thigh. “I didn’t tell you all this to push you away. I just want you to understand why being with you now is hard for me. You’re tied to a lot of painful memories, and I still feel that electricity with you. Like I’m one step away from turning into my mother, ditching the world for a moment of recklessness, and that always leads to trouble.”

I shake my head and capture her hand with mine. “I agree, we’re electric together. When I’m with you, I feel wild and on the edge of something big. And yeah, the intensity scares me too. I imagine it terrifies you. But the difference here is we’re doing this together. I’m no longer a stupid kid getting in trouble for the hell of it. We’re not failing classes. We both have jobs we love. I won’t let you hurt yourself or anyone else, and I will not disappear on you again. Plus, I have it on good authority sharing similar tendencies to a parent doesn’t mean you’ll repeat their mistakes. None of us boys are running around half-cocked, breaking laws.”

“Right, but this is different. I’m different. You make me lose my head, in the best and worst way. Like, when I’m with you, I’m cemented in the moment and block out the rest of the world. That last night at the pond, I was supposed to pick Emma up from dance class, but I decided to fool around with you instead, couldn’t resist the pull to finally be with you, and some stranger almost picked her up in a van.”

I flinch. “Jesus.”

“I know. And thankfully she knew enough to run and yell for help, but I was selfish. And when I’m selfish, bad things happen. Even the other night, I got caught up in you and forgot about my work meeting. I’m not great at multitasking and remembering commitments, especially when I’m hopped up on adrenaline. It makes me feel like I’m one step away from being like my mother, and I don’t know what to do with that.”

Except she’s finally opening up to me. Her trust has to mean something. “Do you want to be with me, Mags?”

Her chin trembles. “I want to try.”

“And do you realize that your fears—and I say this with the utmost affection—lean toward irrational? You’ve grown up and changed, but you’re talking like you don’t have any control. One wrong move and you’ll end up like your mother, when all I’ve seen from you is responsibility and control.”

“I know.” She hangs her head and rubs her brow. “I feel how overboard I go with it all—dating the wrong guys on purpose, pushing you away. Ignoring you in high school so we wouldn’t get too close, thinking your wild nature would bring out the worst in me. Delilah gets on my case about it, saying I’m being too hard on myself. There’s just this fear deep down I can’t seem to shake. Like you,” she says, her head whipping up. “Like your claustrophobia. Rationally, you know you won’t die in an elevator, but your adrenaline takes over and you can’t shake the fear.”

“True.” I cup the back of her neck and give her my softest smile. “I’m terrified of elevators and tight spaces. It’s an irrational fear beyond my control, but I still walked into that death trap, because you were inside it. I faced that fear to be with you, and I’m asking you to do the same.” The creases between her brows lessen. I press my forehead to hers. “Will you do that for me, Mags? Face your fears to be with me?”

She grips my shoulders. “You can’t ever leave me like that again. You can’t disappear.”

“Never.” My undying promise. I would rather sever a limb. “I will never make you feel discarded or left behind again.”

“Okay.” Her quiet agreement is watery. One word drenched with emotion.

“Okay?”

“Yes, we can try this.”

I exhale years of pent-up pining for this woman. “Was it the football gear I was wearing? The cup? It made you hot for me?”

She punches my arm, dragging us back to lying down together. “You are such an idiot.”

“Maybe, but I have a stipulation. If we’re doing whatever we’re doing, you have to tell me when you get nervous. When something starts to set off your tendencies to pull back, you have to speak up before you freak out.”

She kisses my neck, rubs her nose along the sensitive spot below my ear. “Okay. But I need to take this slow.”

“Right.” Except that could mean a lot of things. “What’s your definition of slow?”

“Can we just not label what this is? Take it one day at a time?”

A spot behind my ribs hardens. Vagueness like that could end badly. “In this unlabeled situation, will you be dating other people? Because that’s not okay with me.”

Her body stiffens. “God, no.”

“Okay.” I massage the tension radiating up my neck. “Then we’re dating.”

“Except there’s no need to call it dating, is there? You’re the first guy I’ve shared my history with. My anxiety needs time to catch up.”