“Aww, you say the sweetest things.” I squeezed her shoulders. But then I seriously considered her words. What if Asher did give up on me and find someone else? Just thinking about it made my chest hurt. “Do you think he will?”
“Get sick of waiting?”
I nodded, unable to even voice the possibility.
“If I thought it would makeany difference whatsoever, I’d tell you yes, he’ll get sick of waiting.” Addison sighed. “But I know him. He won’t. He’s dated, what? Two girls, and those lasted less than a year because neither of them were you. He loves you, dummy, and if you’d just give him a chance to prove it, you’d see that.”
“Fine,” I said.
“Ohmigod, Dylan, you seriously need to pull—wait... what?”
“Fine,” I conceded.
“Fine, as in...?” she asked, gesturing for me to finish the sentence.
I sat back at the table with a grunt. “Fine, I will drop my guard and explore this thing between me and Asher.”
“Without waiting until you’ve achieved some imaginary status that you think will make you worthy?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes.”
She stared me down, looking hopeful, but still skeptical. “You promise?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“Swear on those ugly boots you love so much!”
“Ohmigod, do I have to write it in blood?” I asked.
Addison squealed and began dancing around the room. I dropped my head to the table (over and over again) when she started singing about kissing in a tree or some shit like that. In the end, I decided against further brain damage and did the dishes. I needed something to do withmy hands so I wasn’t tempted to wrap them around her irritating throat.
