Lowball
THE HARLEY TOOK US NOWHERE IN PARTICULAR. WATCHING out for traffic and the sporadic police cruiser that crossed our path was enough to keep my thoughts occupied at first, but after a while we were the only ones on the road. Knowing the night would eventually end, I decided the moment I dropped her off at Morgan would be when I put in my last-ditch effort. Regardless of our platonic bowling dates, if she continued to see Parker, eventually those would stop, too. Everything would stop.
Pressuring Abby was never a good idea, but unless I laid all my cards on the table, I stood a very good chance of losing the only pigeon I’d ever met. What I would say and how I would say it played over and over in my mind. It would have to be direct, something Abby couldn’t ignore, or pretend she didn’t hear or understand.
The needle had been flirting with the empty end of the gas gauge for several miles, so I pulled into the first open gas station we came across.
“You want anything?” I asked.
Abby shook her head, climbing off the bike. She raked her fingers through the tangles of her long, shiny hair, and smiled sheepishly.
“Quit it. You’re fucking beautiful.”
“Just point me to the nearest 1980s rock video.”
I laughed, and then yawned, placing the nozzle into the Harley’s gas tank opening.
Abby pulled out her cell phone to check the time. “Oh my God, Trav. It’s three in the morning.”
“You wanna go back?” I asked, my stomach sinking.
“We better.”
“We’re still going bowling tonight?”
“I told you I would.”
“And you’re still going to Sig Tau with me in a couple weeks, right?”
“Are you insinuating that I don’t follow through? I find that a little insulting.”
I pulled the nozzle from the gas tank and hooked it on its base. “I just never know what you’re going to do anymore.”
I sat on the bike and then helped Abby to climb on behind me. She wrapped her arms around me, this time on her own, and I sighed, lost in thought before starting the engine. I gripped the handlebars, took a breath, and just when I got the balls to tell her, decided a gas station was not the appropriate backdrop to bare my soul.
“You’re important to me, you know,” Abby said, tensing her arms.
“I don’t understand you, Pigeon. I thought I knew women, but you’re so fucking confusing I don’t know which way is up.”
“I don’t understand you, either. You’re supposed to be this school’s ladies’ man. I’m not getting the full freshmen experience they promised in the brochure.”
I couldn’t help but feel offended. Even if it was true. “Well, that’s a first. I’ve never had a girl sleep with me to get me to leave her alone.”
“That’s not what it was, Travis.”
I started the engine and pulled out into the street without saying another word. The drive to Morgan was excruciating. In my head, I talked myself in and out of confronting Abby so many times. Even though my fingers were numb from the cold, I drove slowly, dreading the moment when Abby knew everything, and then rejecting me for the final time.
When we pulled in front of the entrance to Morgan Hall, my nerves felt like they had been cut, lit on fire, and left in a raw, mangled mess. Abby stepped off the bike, and her sad expression made subdued panic blaze inside me. She might tell me to go to hell before I had a chance to say anything.
I walked Abby to the door, and she pulled out her keys, keeping her head down. Unable to wait another second, I took her chin gently in my hand, and lifted it, waiting patiently as her eyes rose to meet mine.
“Did he kiss you?” I asked, touching my thumb to her soft lips.
She pulled away. “You really know how to screw up a perfect night, don’t you?”
“You thought it was perfect, huh? Does that mean you had a good time?”
“I always do when I’m with you.”
My eyes fell, and I felt my features compress into a frown. “Did he kiss you?”
“Yes.” She sighed, irritated.
My eyes closed tight, knowing my next question could result in disaster. “Is that all?”
“That is none of your business!” she said, yanking open the door.
I pushed it closed and stood in her way. “I need to know.”
“No you don’t! Move, Travis!” she jabbed her elbow into my side, trying to get by.
“Pigeon . . .”
“You think because I’m no longer a virgin, I’ll screw anyone that’ll have me? Thanks! ” she said, shoving my shoulder.
“I didn’t say that, damn it! Is it too much to ask for a little peace of mind?”
“Why would it give you peace of mind to know if I’m sleeping with Parker?”
“How can you not know? It’s obvious to everyone else but you!”
“I guess I’m just an idiot, then. You’re on a roll tonight, Trav,” she said, reaching for the door handle.
I cupped her shoulders. She was doing it again, the oblivious routine I’d become so accustomed to. The time to show my cards was now. “The way I feel about you . . . it’s crazy.”
“You got the crazy part right,” she snapped, pulling away from me.
“I practiced this in my head the whole time we were on the bike, so just hear me out.”
“Travis—”
“I know we’re fucked up, all right? I’m impulsive and hot tempered, and you get under my skin like no one else. You act like you hate me one minute, and then you need me the next. I never get anything right, and I don’t deserve you . . . but I fucking love you, Abby. I love you more than I’ve loved anyone or anything, ever. When you’re around, I don’t need booze or money or the fighting or the one-night stands ... all I need is you. You’re all I think about. You’re all I dream about. You’re all I want.”
She didn’t speak for several seconds. Her eyebrows raised, and her eyes looked dazed as she processed everything I’d said. She blinked a few times.
I cupped each side of her face and looked into her eyes. “Did you sleep with him?”
Abby’s eyes glossed over, and then she shook her head no. Without another thought, my lips slammed into hers, and I slipped my tongue inside her mouth. She didn’t push me away; instead her tongue challenged mine, and she gripped my T-shirt in her fists, pulling me close. An involuntary hum emanated from my throat, and I wrapped my arms around her.
When I knew I had my answer, I pulled back, breathless. “Call Parker. Tell him you don’t wanna see him anymore. Tell him you’re with me.”
She closed her eyes. “I can’t be with you, Travis.”
“Why the hell not?” I asked, letting go.
Abby shook her head. She had proven herself unpredictable a million times before, but the way she kissed me had meant more than friendship, and had too much behind it to just be sympathy. That left me with only one conclusion.
“Unbelievable. The one girl I want, and she doesn’t want me.”
She hesitated before she spoke. “When America and I moved out here, it was with the understanding that my life was going to turn out a certain way. Or, that it wouldn’t turn out a certain way. The fighting, the gambling, the drinking . . . it’s what I left behind. When I’m around you it’s all right there for me in an irresistible, tattooed package. I didn’t move hundreds of miles away to live it all over again.”
“I know you deserve better than me. You think I don’t know that? But if there was any woman made for me . . . it’s you. I’ll do whatever I have to do, Pidge. Do you hear me? I’ll do anything.”
She turned away from me, but I wouldn’t give up. She was finally talking, and if she walked away this time, we might not get another chance.
I held the door shut with my hand. “I’ll stop fighting the second I graduate. I won’t drink a single drop again. I’ll give you the happy ever after, Pigeon. If you just believe in me, I can do it.”
“I don’t want you to change.”
“Then tell me what to do. Tell me and I’ll do it,” I pleaded.
“Can I borrow your phone?” she asked.
I frowned, unsure what she would do. “Sure.” I pulled my phone from my pocket, handing it to her.
She fingered the buttons for a moment, and then dialed, closing her eyes as she waited.
“I’m sorry for calling you so early,” she stammered, “but this couldn’t wait. I . . . can’t go to dinner with you on Wednesday.”
She had called Parker. My hands trembled with apprehension, wondering if she was going to ask him to pick her up—to save her—or something else.
She continued, “I can’t see you at all, actually. I’m . . . pretty sure I’m in love with Travis.”
My whole world stopped. I tried to replay her words over. Had I heard them correctly? Did she really just say what I thought she had, or was it just wishful thinking?
Abby handed the phone back to me, and then reluctantly peered up into my eyes.
“He hung up,” she said with a frown.
“You love me?”
“It’s the tattoos,” she said, flippant and shrugging, as if she hadn’t just said the one thing I’d ever wanted to hear.
Pigeon loved me.
A wide smile stretched across my face. “Come home with me,” I said, enveloping her in my arms.
Abby’s eyebrows shot up. “You said all that to get me in bed? I must have made quite an impression.”
“The only thing I’m thinking about right now is holding you in my arms all night.”
“Let’s go.”
I didn’t hesitate. Once Abby was securely on the back of my bike, I raced home, taking every shortcut, rushing every yellow light, and weaving in and out of the little traffic there was at that time of the morning.
When we reached the apartment, turning off the engine and lifting Abby into my arms seemed
simultaneous.
She giggled against my lips as I fumbled with the bolt lock on the front door. When I set her down and closed the door behind us, I let out a long, relieved sigh.
“It hasn’t seemed like home since you left,” I said, kissing her again.
Toto scampered down the hall and wagged his shaggy tail, pawing at Abby’s legs. He’d missed her almost as much as I had.
Shepley’s bed squeaked, and then his feet stomped across the floor. His door flew open as he squinted from the light. “Fuck no, Trav, you’re not pulling this shit! You’re in love with Ab...”—his eyes focused and he recognized his mistake—“by. Hey, Abby.”
“Hey, Shep,” Abby said with an amused smile, setting Toto on the floor.
Before Shepley could ask questions, I pulled Abby down the hall. We crashed into each other. I hadn’t planned on anything but having her next to me in the bed, but she yanked my shirt up and over my head with intention. I helped her with her jacket, and then she stripped off her sweater and tank top. There was no questioning the look in her eyes, and I wasn’t about to argue.
Soon we were both completely naked, and the small voice inside of me wanting to savor the moment and take things slow was easily overpowered by Abby’s desperate kisses and the soft hums she made whenever I touched her pretty much anywhere.
I lowered her to the mattress, and her hand shot out toward the nightstand. Instantly, I remembered my unceremonious breaking of the fishbowl of condoms to pledge my intended celibacy.
“Shit,” I said, panting. “I got rid of them.”
“What? All of them?”
“I thought you didn’t . . . if I wasn’t with you, I wasn’t going to need them.”
“You’re kidding me!” she said, letting her head fall against the headboard in frustration.
I leaned down, breathing hard, resting my forehead against her chest. “Consider yourself the opposite of a foregone conclusion.”
The next moments were a blur. Abby did some weird counting, concluding that she couldn’t get
pregnant that particular week, and before I knew it, I was inside of her, feeling every part of her against every part of me. I had never been with a girl without that thin sheath of latex, but apparently a fraction of a millimeter made a lot of difference. Every movement created equally overpowering conflicting feelings: delaying the inevitable, or giving in because it felt so fucking good.
When Abby’s hips rose against mine, and her uncontrolled groans and whimpers escalated to a loud, satisfied cry, I couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Abby,” I whispered, desperate. “I need a . . . I need to . . .”
“Don’t stop,” she begged. Her fingernails dug into my back.
I rocked into her again one last time. I must have been loud, because Abby’s hand flew up to my mouth.
I closed my eyes, letting everything go, feeling my eyebrows press together while my body convulsed and stiffened. Breathing hard, I looked into Abby’s eyes. Wearing only a tired, satisfied smile, she peered up at me, waiting for something. I kissed her over and over, and then cupped each side of her face with my hands, kissing her again, this time more tenderly.
Abby’s breathing slowed, and she sighed. I leaned my body to the side, relaxing next to her, and then pulled her against me. She rested her cheek against my chest, her hair cascading down my arm. I kissed her forehead once more, locking my fingers together at the small of her back.
“Don’t leave this time, okay? I wanna wake up just like this in the morning.”
Abby kissed my chest, but didn’t look up. “I’m not going anywhere.”
THAT MORNING, LYING WITH THE WOMAN I LOVED, A SILENT promise was formed in my head. I was going to be a better man for her, someone she deserved. No more flying off the handle. No more temper tantrums, or violent outbursts.
Every time I pressed my lips against her skin, waiting for her to wake up, I repeated that promise in my mind.
Dealing with life outside the apartment while trying to stay true to that promise proved to be a struggle.
For the first time, I not only gave a shit about someone, but I was also desperate to keep them. Feelings of overprotection and jealousy chipped away at the oath I’d made just a few hours before.
By lunchtime, Chris Jenks had pissed me off and I regressed. Abby was thankfully patient and forgiving, even when I threatened Parker not twenty minutes later.
Abby had proved more than once that she could accept me for who I was, but I didn’t want to be the violent asshole everyone was used to. Mixing my rages with these new feelings of jealousy was more difficult to control than I could have imagined.
I resorted to avoiding situations that could throw me into a rage, and remaining oblivious to the knowledge that not only was Abby insanely hot, every dick on campus was curious how she had tamed the one man they thought would never settle down. It seemed they were all waiting for me to fuck up so they could try her out, which only made me more agitated and cantankerous.
To keep my mind occupied, I focused on making it clear to the coeds that I was off the market, which had pissed off half the school’s female population.
Walking into the Red with Abby on Halloween, I noticed that the sharp, late fall air didn’t hinder the number of women wearing an array of slutty costumes. I hugged my girlfriend to my side, grateful that she wasn’t one to dress up as Prostitute Barbie, or a football-player-slash-transvestite-whore, which meant that the number of threats I would have to make for staring at her tits or worrying about her bending over would be kept to a minimum.
Shepley and I played pool while the girls looked on. We were winning again, after having already pocketed $360 from the last two games.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Finch approach America and Abby. They giggled for a while, and then Finch pulled them onto the dance floor. Abby’s beauty stood out, even amid the bare skin, glitter, and glaring cleavage of the naughty Snow Whites and sleazy referees around her.
Before the song was over, America and Abby left Finch on the dance floor and headed toward the bar.
I stretched up onto my toes to find the tops of their heads in the sea of people.
“You’re up,” Shepley said.
“The girls are gone.”
“They probably went to pick up drinks. Get to stickin’, lover boy.”
With hesitation, I bent down, focused on the ball, but then missed.
“Travis! That was an easy shot! You’re killin’ me!” Shepley complained.
I still couldn’t see the girls. Knowing about the two sexual assault incidents the year before, it made me nervous to let Abby and America walk around alone. Drugging an unsuspecting girl’s drink was not unheard of, even in our small college town.
I set my pool stick on the table and made my way across the wooden dance floor.
Shepley’s hand fell on my shoulder. “Where are you going?”
“To find the girls. You remember what happened last year to that Heather chick.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
When I finally found Abby and America, I saw two guys buying them drinks. Both short, one was thicker around the middle, with a week’s worth of scruff on his sweaty face. Jealousy should have been the last thing I would feel when looking at him, but the fact that he was clearly hitting on my girlfriend made this less about his looks and more about my ego—even if he didn’t know she was with me, he should have assumed by looking at her that she wouldn’t be alone. My jealousy mixed with annoyance. I’d told Abby a dozen times not to do something so potentially dangerous as accept a drink from a stranger; anger quickly took over.
The one guy yelling to Abby over the music leaned in. “You wanna dance?”
Abby shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m here with my—”
“Boyfriend,” I said, cutting her off. I glared down at the men. It was almost laughable trying to intimidate two men wearing togas, but I still unleashed my full-on I Will Kill You expression. I nodded across the room. “Run along, now.”
The men cowered, and then looked to America and Abby before retreating behind the curtain of the crowd.
Shepley kissed America. “I can’t take you anywhere!” She giggled, and Abby smiled at me.
I was too angry to smile back.
“What?” she asked, taken aback.
“Why did you let him buy your drink?”
America let go of Shepley. “We didn’t, Travis. I told them not to.”
I took the bottle from Abby’s hand. “Then what’s this?”
“Are you serious?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m fucking serious,” I said, tossing the beer in the trash can by the bar. “I’ve told you a hundred times . . . you can’t take drinks from random guys. What if he put something in it?”
America held up her glass. “The drinks were never out of our sight, Trav. You’re overreacting.”
“I’m not talking to you,” I said, glaring at Abby.
Her eyes flashed, mirroring my anger. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
“Travis,” Shepley warned, “let it go.”
“I don’t like you letting other guys buy you drinks,” I said.
Abby raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to pick a fight?”
“Would it bother you to walk up to the bar and see me sharing a drink with some chick?”
“Okay. You’re oblivious to all women, now. I get it. I should be making the same effort.”
“It would be nice,” I said, my teeth clenched.
“You’re going to have to tone down the jealous-boyfriend thing, Travis. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I walk up here, and some guy is buying you a drink!”
“Don’t yell at her!” America said.
Shepley put his hand on Travis’s shoulder. “We’ve all had a lot to drink. Let’s just get out of here.”
Abby’s anger turned up a notch. “I have to tell Finch we’re leaving,” she grumbled, shouldering past me to the dance floor.
I took her by the wrist. “I’ll go with you.”
She twisted from my grip. “I am fully capable of walking a few feet by myself, Travis. What is wrong with you?”
Abby pushed her way out to Finch, who was flinging his arms around and jumping around in the middle of the wooden floor. Sweat was pouring down his forehead and from his temples. At first he smiled, but when she yelled her goodbyes, he rolled his eyes.
Abby had mouthed my name. She had blamed it on me, which only made me more mad. Of course I would get angry if she did something that could get her hurt. She didn’t seem to mind so much when I was bashing Chris Jenks’s head in, but when I got pissed about her taking drinks from strangers, she had the audacity to get mad.
Just as my anger boiled to rage, some asshole in a pirate costume grabbed Abby and pressed himself against her. The room blurred, and before I knew it, my fist was in his face. The pirate fell to the floor, but when Abby went with him, I snapped back to reality. Her palms flat on the dance floor, she looked stunned. I was frozen in shock, watching her, in slow motion, turn her hand over to see that it was covered in bright red blood gushing from the pirate’s nose.
I scrambled to pick her up. “Oh shit! Are you all right, Pidge?”
When Abby got to her feet, she yanked her arm from my grip. “Are you insane?”
America grabbed Abby’s wrist and pulled her through the crowd, only letting go when we were outside. I had to walk double-time to keep up.
In the parking lot, Shepley unlocked the Charger and Abby slid into her seat.
I tried pleading with her. She was beyond pissed. “I’m sorry, Pigeon, I didn’t know he had a hold of you.”
“Your fist was two inches from my face!” she said, catching the oil-stained towel Shepley had thrown at her. She wiped the blood from her hand, wringing the cloth around each finger, clearly revolted.
I winced. “I wouldn’t have swung if I thought I could have hit you. You know that right?”
“Shut up, Travis. Just shut up,” she said, staring at the back of Shepley’s head.
“Pidge . . .”
Shepley hit his steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “Shut up, Travis! You said you’re sorry, now shut the fuck up!”
I couldn’t say anything back. Shepley was right: I had FUBARed the entire night, and suddenly Abby kicking me to the curb became a frightening possibility.
When we reached the apartment, America kissed her boyfriend good night. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.”
Shepley nodded in resignation and kissed her. “Love you.”
I knew they were leaving because of me. Otherwise, the girls would be staying the night at the apartment like they did every weekend.
Abby walked past me to America’s Honda without saying a word.
I jogged to her side, trying an awkward smile in an attempt to defuse the situation. “C’mon. Don’t leave mad.”
“Oh, I’m not leaving mad. I’m furious.”
“She needs some time to cool off, Travis,” America warned, unlocking her door.
When the passenger side lock popped, I panicked, holding my hand against the door. “Don’t leave, Pigeon. I was out of line. I’m sorry.”
Abby held up her hand, showing the remnants of dried blood on her palm. “Call me when you grow up.”
I leaned against the door with my hip. “You can’t leave.”
Abby raised an eyebrow, and Shepley jogged around the car beside us. “Travis, you’re drunk. You’re about to make a huge mistake. Just let her go home, cool off . . . you can both talk tomorrow when you’re sober.”
“She can’t leave,” I said, desperately staring into Abby’s eyes.
“It’s not going to work, Travis,” she said, tugging on the door. “Move!”
“What do you mean it’s not gonna work?” I asked, grabbing her arm. The fear of Abby saying the words, ending it right there made me react without thinking.
“I mean the sad face. I’m not falling for it,” she said, pulling away.
A short-lived relief came over me. She wasn’t going to end it. At least, not yet.
“Abby,” Shepley said. “This is the moment I was talking about. Maybe you should—”
“Stay out of it, Shep,” America snapped, starting the car.
“I’m gonna fuck up. I’m gonna fuck up a lot, Pidge, but you have to forgive me.”
“I’m going to have a huge bruise on my ass in the morning! You hit that guy because you were pissed at me! What should that tell me? Because red flags are going up all over the place right now!”
“I’ve never hit a girl in my life,” I said, surprised she would ever think I could ever lay a hand on her —or any other woman for that matter.
“And I’m not about to be the first one!” she said, tugging on the door. “Move, damn it!”
I nodded, taking a step back. The last thing I wanted was for her to leave, but it was better than her getting so pissed off that she ended up telling me to fuck off.
America put the car in reverse, and I watched Abby through the window.
“You’re going to call me tomorrow, right?” I asked, touching the windshield.
“Just go, Mare,” she said, looking straight ahead.
When the brake lights were no longer visible, I retreated into the apartment.
“Travis,” Shepley warned. “No messes, bro. I mean it.”
I nodded, trudging to my room in defeat. It seemed that just when I was getting a handle on things, my fucking temper would rear its ugly head. I had to get it under control, or I was going to lose the best thing that ever happened to me.
To pass the time, I cooked some pork chops and mashed potatoes, but just rolled it all around on my plate, unable to eat. Laundry helped to knock out an hour, and then I decided to give Toto a bath. We played for a while, but then even he gave up and curled up on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, obsessing about how stupid I’d been, wasn’t appealing, so I decided to pull all the dishes out of the cabinet and wash them by hand.
Longest night of my life.
The clouds began to turn colors, signaling the sun. I grabbed the bike keys and went for a drive, ending up in front of Morgan Hall.
Harmony Handler was just leaving for a jog. She watched me for a moment, keeping her hand on the door.
“Hey, Travis,” she said with her typical small smile. It quickly faded. “Wow. Are you sick or something? Do you need me to take you somewhere?” I must have looked like hell. Harmony had always been a sweetheart. Her brother was a Sig Tau, so I didn’t know her all that well. Little sisters were off-limits.
“Hey, Harmony,” I said, trying a smile. “I wanted to surprise Abby with breakfast. Think you could let me in?”
“Uh,” she trailed off, looking back through the glass door. “Nancy might freak. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Nancy was Morgan Hall’s dorm mom. I’d heard of her, but never seen her, and doubted she would even notice. The word around campus was that she drank more than the residents and was seldom seen outside of her room.
“Just a long night. C’mon.” I smiled. “You know she won’t care.”
“Okay, but it wasn’t me.”
I held my hand to my heart. “I promise.”
I made my way upstairs, knocking softly on Abby’s door.
The knob turned quickly, but the door opened slowly, gradually revealing Abby and America across the room. Kara’s hand slipped from the doorknob back under the covers of her bed.
“Can I come in?”
Abby sat up quickly. “Are you okay?”
I walked in and fell to my knees before her. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I’m sorry,” I said, wrapping my arms around her middle and burying my head in her lap.
Abby cradled my head in her arms.
“I’m uh . . . ,” America stuttered, “I’m gonna go.”
Abby’s roommate Kara stomped around the room, getting her shower supplies. “I’m always very clean when you’re around, Abby,” she said, slamming the door behind her.
I looked up at Abby. “I know I get crazy when it comes to you, but God knows I’m tryin’, Pidge. I don’t wanna screw this up.”
“Then don’t,” she said simply.
“This is hard for me, ya know. I feel like any second you’re going to figure out what a piece of shit I am and leave me. When you were dancing last night, I saw a dozen different guys watching you. You go to the bar, and I see you thank that guy for your drink. Then that douche bag on the dance floor grabs you.”
“You don’t see me throwing punches every time a girl talks to you. I can’t stay locked up in th apartment all the time. You’re going to have to get a handle on your temper.”
“I will,” I said, nodding. “I’ve never wanted a girlfriend before, Pigeon. I’m not used to feeling this way about someone . . . about anyone. If you’ll be patient with me, I swear I’ll get it figured out.”
“Let’s get something straight; you’re not a piece of shit, you’re amazing. It doesn’t matter who buys me drinks or who asks me to dance or who flirts with me. I’m going home with you. You’ve asked me to trust you, and you don’t seem to trust me.”
I frowned. “That’s not true.”
“If you think I’m going to leave you for the next guy that comes along, then you don’t have much faith in me.”
I tightened my grip. “I’m not good enough for you, Pidge. That doesn’t mean I don’t trust you, I’m just bracing for the inevitable.”
“Don’t say that. When we’re alone, you’re perfect. We’re perfect. But then you let everyone else ruin it. I don’t expect a 180, but you have to pick your battles. You can’t come out swinging every time someone looks at me.”
I nodded, knowing she was right. “I’ll do anything you want. Just . . . tell me you love me.” I was fully aware of how ridiculous I sounded, but it just didn’t matter anymore.
“You know I do.”
“I need to hear you say it.”
“I love you,” she said. She touched her lips to mine, and then pulled a few inches away. “Now quit being such a baby.”
Once she kissed me, my heart slowed, and every muscle in my body relaxed. How much I needed her terrified me. I couldn’t imagine love was like this for everyone, or men would be walking around like lunatics the second they were old enough to notice girls.
Maybe it was just me. Maybe it was just me and her. Maybe together we were this volatile entity that would either implode or meld together. Either way, it seemed the moment I met her, my life had been turned upside down. And I didn’t want it any other way.