Page 134 of Down Bad

My stomach aches with joy from one glance at him, especially now, tonight, when I’m full of so much uncertainty.

“Nope,” I answer him out loud, lowering my phone. “And that reference you just made is Humpty Dumpty. Why’re you going and mixing up your fairytales?”

“Up in a tower like she is, isn’t Rapunzel’s ass just as likely to fall?” He smirks—or is that almost a smile?—then leans against the doorframe and shrugs. “You weren’t answering the door. Saw the light on back here. Thought you could use some company after your sister left.”

I stare at him, pleasantly taken by his thoughtfulness.

Someone’s company is exactly what I need right now.

And Diego is the perfect company—the only company I want.

But there’s so much left to be talked about. Especially after all that came out at the restaurant.

And everything that didn’t.

“Do you want to … come inside and …” I’m fishing for words. I completely forgot which plants I tended and which ones I haven’t. Only a little evening sun is in the sky, obscured by the tall trees in my back neighbor’s yard. “… and maybe we can talk about—”

“I don’t want to talk.”

I meet his eyes.

“I don’t think you do, either,” he goes on.

My eyes drop to his lips.

To his chest.

He comes inside the greenhouse. Puts himself right in front of me. Lifts his hand to my forehead, runs it over my head, settles it at the base of my neck, and grips me.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks. “Or you still pissed at me?”

What a Diego way to ask.

“For what?” I throw back. “Ganging up on me with Connie?”

He snorts. “Maybe she’s pushy. Takes over. But she seems to really care about you. And … I’m pretty sure she got the message to pull back a little, don’t you think?”

I smile. “Yeah. I guess … I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

He keeps looking my face over like he’s making plans.

Something very small holding him back from just going all in.

Like a single word of permission.

A subtle glance into his eyes.

A hook of my finger into his pants, tugging him against me.

It feels that easy to burst the dam.

“And no, I’m not still pissed at you.” My eyes dance down to his chest. “Maybe I was more … upset with myself.”

“Why?”

“Well … after a few things my sister said to me before she left. And some things you said to me in the car that one night. And … what I said back.” I bite my lip, troubled suddenly. “I shouldn’t have said you’re the guy who mows over the flowers. It was just an accident. You thought you were looking after that house the way your aunt and uncle asked you to, cleaning up the yard. You were doing what you thought was right. And I …” My eyes meet his again. “I just didn’t understand you yet.”