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I shake my head quickly. Then I look into her beautiful eyes. Right now, they’re widened in concern.
“Are… you… okay?” Clearly, she can sense she’s triggered something. I wonder if I can play it off.
I grin at her and motion for her to continue with the soup can. “Go on, then. Let’s see if it’s as good as you say.”
But she’s not turning back around to the stove with it. She just stays there and stares at me with that questioning look. Then she bites her lower lip, and I know her well enough already to know that it’s because she wants to say something but is afraid to do it.
I’m afraid to hear it.
“Blair, you’re going to burn the meat.”
She grips the edge of the counter. “Hey, I really like you, you know that?”
Butterflies swarm around in my stomach. “Oh, yeah?”
She nods her head. “And… I swear I didn’t ask her to, but Sara did tell me a little bit about… your last girlfriend.”
The only information I’ve ever divulged to Blair about Jennifer is that I just got dumped recently and didn’t want to talk about it.
My face falls. “Oh, that’s…” I don’t really know what to say. Did it just get really hot in here?
“Um, I don’t know that much, but I know that she hurt you.”
I stand up from the stool, feeling antsy. “Yeah, Blair, we really don’t have to talk about this.”
“I know. I’m sorry, I haven’t really hung around any other guys as much as I’ve hung around you. Like, ever.”
I had moved to go get my glass of water off of the coffee table, but her words make me freeze. This is news to me. “I thought you said you have exes,” I say.
“Well, kind of. I have guys whom I’ve gone on a couple dates with and stopped talking to after.” She looks embarrassed. “And I’m not pretending I know what we’re doing, or that I know what this is or how long it’s going to last, but I just want you to know,”—she sets the can opener down on the counter and comes around the island to get closer to me—“I have no idea what I’m doing, but Idoknow that I’m never going to hurt you. I do know that I am nothing like her. And you can trust me.”
“Damn,” I breathe.
“What?” she asks shyly.
“I just… I’ve never had somebody be so straightforward with me.” My heart is soaring. It’s pounding in my ears and telling me that I don’t have to be afraid to let Blair in all the way. That I can be honest and show her my entire true self, and that she might still accept me when I do.
But what if Blair is only saying this to the Damascus she knowsnow?What if she changes her mind when mytruecolors come out? Blair makes me want to be a better guy, but I can’t promise that I will be. I have a darkness inside of me. I always have. I probably always will.
4
KENNETH
Work was insanely stressfultoday. Being a celebrity journalist is not always as it’s cracked up to be. My boss, Rainer Wilkinson, had been calling me nonstop, asking me what I found out about Derek Heed, the college football player from a small town who has made fame mainly due to social media that my boss wants me to get a juicy story on for our magazine.
Rainer was thrilled to hear the news about someone coming forward about Derek being abusive. I don’t think it’s necessarily something to be too happy about because women are in danger because of him, but Rainer has never really been one to have feelings.
When I unlock my front door and walk into my temporary housing not far from the stadium where Heed plays, courteous of Rainer, I’m feeling a little wary.
I set all of my belongings down on the dining table/workstation, then I head into my room to grab a towel so I can jump into the shower. But when I get to the bathroom in the hallway, I freeze. The door is closed, and there is light shining from underneath the crack of the door.
I can hear the shower running, so I set my towel back inside my bedroom and head to the living room to sit down on the couch and take a breather for a little bit. It is still so strange having someone—afemalesomeone—who is practically a stranger, staying at my place.
Selena comes out of the bathroom about ten minutes later, wearing a fluffy robe and her hair up in a towel. She’s wiping makeup off of her face with a fabric cloth, being careful around her black eye, and when she realizes I’m sitting there in the living room, she jumps and screams.It’s as ifI’mthe one who is a surprising visitor inherhome, not the other way around.
Her jumping and screaming only makesmejump and scream, too.
Then when we both calm down, we chuckle at each other.
