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He shakes his head.
“That’s all it takes when he’s bragging about cheating and playing two girls—”
“I know about that. About all of it. He didn’t hide anything from me. He was honest. There were no lines or games. He showed me exactly who he is, the good and the bad. It doesn’t scare me. I can handle myself. Either he’ll be that guy, and I’ll dump him. Or he’ll be the guy he’s been to me, and I won’t. So cool off because this isn’t about you. And honestly, you’re acting like a jealous ass right now!” I yell.
His eyes flare as he stares at me in disbelief. “Jealous?!”
“Yeah. Jealous,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.
He rubs his face and sits down on my bed.
Confused, I drop down next to him.
He turns to look at me, eyes serious and filled with sincerity—and maybe a tinge of remorse.
“I guess a part of me is always going to be jealous of the guys you date because it means you get to spend less time with me. And it’s possible that I don’t thinkanyonewould ever be good enough for you. Except maybe me.”
I stare at him, my mouth falling open. But then he smirks at me, so I slug him in the arm.
“I don’t ever want to see you get hurt.”
“Well, not every relationship is gonna be the epic written-in-the-stars stuff. Especially right at the start. But this has been fun and romantic. If that changes… then I’ll deal with it. If I get my heart broken, that’s a part of life. And luckily, I have some amazing friends to help me pick up the pieces, whatever happens.”
He looks at me sheepishly.
“Well, now I kind of feel like an asshole,” he says.
“Good,” I say with a grin.
He lightly elbows me, then pulls me into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry I’ve been a dick about this. No one ever will be good enough for you, but as long as you’re happy, I will support you.”
“Thanks, Ace. I love you,” I say as I pull back.
“I love you too, Beautiful.”
I give him a big smile. “So, back to my original question: how was your date with Marisol?”
He gives me a sly grin.
“It was good,” he says, running his thumb over his bottom lip.
That action triggers something in me. It takes everything in me not to stare at his lips. Soft lips that have felt comforting against mine on many occasions.
Why am I thinking about this?
Not wanting him to know how it’s affecting me, I lean into our playfulness, wiggle my eyebrows at him, and say, “How good?”
“Let’s just say she’s a very good kisser, and I tested that for long enough to know for sure,” he says, a naughty look dancing in his eyes.
I laugh, feeling normal again. “Davey’s a good kisser, too.Mm.Very good.”
“Nice,” he laughs, holding out his fist.
I roll my eyes at him but give him a sassy smirk and bump his fist back.
