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“Hate what?”
“You being here.”
I try to hold back my grin. That’s the closest I’ve gotten to her admitting she likes me. I lean in and kiss her softly, but it’s nowhere close to what I need from her. I go back in for another, and it surprises me that she meets me halfway. Not only that, but she pulls her top hand out from under her head and lets it find its way to my waist as she deepens our kiss.
I’m the first to pull back. “Tell me you don’t feel that.” I whisper and catch her gaze. “This thing between us.” So much for not saying or doing anything to freak her out.
She breaks eye contact, her gaze falling to the space on the bed between us.
My hand leaves her waist so I can bring my fingers to her chin, softly directing her gaze back to mine. “Why are you fighting it?”
She’s silent for long enough I don’t think she’s going to tell me. As I’m about to tell her it’s okay, she speaks. “I don’t want to tell you. You’re so good at not letting your mom or anyone else affect how you live your life.”
That’s not what I expected her to say. “That’s not true. You just haven’t been around me enough to see it yet. Tell me, please. I won’t judge you.”
She bites into her lip. I know this is a serious moment, but she’s so fucking cute.
“Remember how I told you about my mom’s boyfriend. The one who gave me my first CD?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t remember his name. I don’t remember any of their names. There were too many of them.” She hesitates, like she’s unsure if she should continue. I rub my thumb along her cheek, hoping to encourage her.
“My mom wasn’t just a serial dater. She was so addicted to falling in love that whenever she had it, it was the only thing that mattered to her. And whenever she didn’t, she acted like she’d die without her next hit.”
I have a feeling where she’s going with this. The specifics may be different, but our situations are comparable. “When you say the only thing that mattered to her…”
“I mean she loved them so much, there wasn’t any left for me. Sometimes I’d go weeks without seeing her. My first memory of being left alone for too long is from when I was five. Luckily the bus stop was on the corner we lived on, and one of my teachers helped me get free lunches at school.”
This is not something I wanted us to be able to bond over, but I haven’t made the connection between this and why she’s so afraid of giving in to me. I don’t know what to say, but before I can come up with something, she smirks.
“At least I didn’t have to eat pot brownies.” That earns her a smile, even if it’s her way of trying to escape this conversation.
I take a stab at what’s bothering her. “You’re worried you’ll end up like her, once you know what it’s like?”
She nods. She’s showing me a vulnerability I suspect not many people have seen, so I give her time to gather her thoughts, threading my fingers into her hair in the meantime.
“What if I give it a chance and it distracts me from everything else that’s important to me?” The genuine concern in her eyes makes me want to hold her, but I don’t want to push it and risk her retreating.
“What is important to you?“
"I guess I don’t have fancy dreams, or anything worth a lot…”
“It doesn’t have to be material or grand for it to be important. The best things in life usually aren’t.”
“Then I guess… being able to rely on myself? My friendship with Mack. With Maci. And maybe part of it is… I’m still figuring out what I want in life. And I don’t want someone to get in the way of that.” I’m taken back by her openness.
“The right person wouldn’t make you choose between them and your other priorities. Hell, the right person will share a lot of them and encourage you to discover anything that makes you happy.”
“Okay, fine. Say I found the right person. What happens when they leave? What if I can’t handle it? What if it breaks me and I turn into a useless human or worse, a useless mom–like mine did?”
“You’re not your mom, Lexy. The fact that you’re even thinking about this proves that. You’ve fended for yourself since you were at least five. I’ve watched you dominate a bar full of hundreds of people on your own. From what I’ve seen, you can take control of situations and conversations quicker than anyone I know.”
“You haven’t spentthatmuch time with me.”
“I know, but I want to. I want to learn so much about you that when you’re worried you’re not enough, you’ll believe me when I say you are.”
“So, what happens if I decide I like you, Troy? You don’t even like California.”
