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“Anything. What do you want? You want me to say I love you? You’re going to hold playtime over my head for that?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not going to hold it over your head. I just need to know what we’re getting into here. Am I doing this with my girlfriend, or am I doing this with a hookup? Spoiler alert: I don’t want to do this with a hookup.”
The knife is getting warmer the longer this conversation takes, and I’m increasingly frustrated.
My back arches off the bed, but he holds the knife just out of reach. He knows exactly what I want him to do with the flat part. And he’s dangling our relationship over my head before I get it.
“This is an ‘us’ thing. I need this, you need it, but most importantly, I need you. I can’t do this with you if you don’t love me, Megs. If you don’t love me, that’s fine. I’ll walk away. Just say the word; I can learn to be fine on my own.”
Oh sure, he’s fine on his own. Herc lives in somebody’s attic like a raccoon, but otherwise, he’s just peachy. My eyes dart around this dank, squalid storage room. I can’t live with myself if he’s living like this because of me.
“Liar.”
His hot breath hits my ear. “Calling me names isn’t part of our deal.”
I know Herc is lying about being perfectly okay with walking away. Because I know, for me, that I am most definitely not fine on my own. And everyone can see it.
There’s nothing I should be ashamed about with this man. I watched him tear his room apart the night his dad was sentenced to prison. I was there for him on multiple anniversaries of his mom’s death and had stayed up all night listening to his stories about her. I withheld judgment when he lost his shit over Cass and Titus secretly dating — after all, wasn’t our relationship a secret, if only because we hadn’t made it “official” yet? And, when the Huntsmen had a winning football season, I was there, and I was there when they lost.
Herc had tried to get me to talk and open up. To talk about my parents’ divorce. How I felt about my dad’s new family in Europe or about the parade of would-be stepdads that tried dating my mother. I never wanted to talk about any of it because it was all one-word answers. Shit. I felt like shit. And I felt like I didn’t deserve to feel like shit because of how easy my life was.
It’s the same poor little rich girl story I heard from a dozen other drunk Beta Beta Psi sisters at every party we hosted. Every damn time, I listened to them complain about how perfect their lives were. I learned to keep my mouth shut and just be a good friend.
“I’m not fine,” I blurt, sitting up and hugging my knees into my chest. If we’re gonna be vulnerable, I need something to hold on to.
“What?” Concern blankets Herc’s face.
I’m not going to cry. I refuse. “I’m not fine! I’m in pain every day, and I hate you for breaking up with me. You want to know what’s going on with me? That’s literally it. I go with my mother to her little brunches and fundraisers. I take walks. I sit in my boat in the middle of the lake and tell my problems to The Sleeping Lady.”
Herc blinks again. “The Sleeping Lady?”
“You heard me, okay? Now we’re caught up.”
My words catch in my throat, and my nose runs. When I refuse to tear up, the emotions have to come out somewhere.
Herc reaches for the towel and hands it to me.
“Come here.”
Herc wraps me up in his arms and squeezes. Ugh. I’ve never been much of a hugger, but this man was built for hugging. I release myself into him and breathe. “I’m going to snot on your shoulder.”
“I have another one.”
That is such a dad joke, and yet I’m laughing.
“So, what’s been going on with you? Other than letting strange women touch your tongue, driving boat tours, and giving unnecessary speeches to AirB&Bers at local restaurants?”
“Other than my dad getting out of prison and the fact that I’m gonna be an uncle? That about covers it,” he says.
That’s right. I wasn’t there for him when Dex got out of prison.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“It was just a family thing.”
I flinch in his arms.
“Hey,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that.”
