“Wait, what? Why?” He takes a step like he’s going to move around the corner of the island toward me.
I put my hand up, halting his movements. “It’s good. It’s better this way. You know, I fell for you and that’s on me. That’s my fault. But I don’t have to keep torturing myself.”
“You… you fell for me?”
My gaze falls to the floor. I shake my head, an incredulous laugh escaping me. “I’m a very stupid girl who fell in love with a boy who doesn’t want to be in love. How dumb is that?”
Waylon doesn’t say anything, and I don’t have the strength to look up at him. I just keep staring at the same spot on the floor.But I hear his feet shuffle, and then they come into view. Still, I don’t look up.
“I didn’t know what happened last year meant that much to you,” he says. His voice is soft, tone apologetic.
I let my eyes sweep up the length of his body until our eyes meet. “Yeah, well, it was my mistake. I read the situation wrong. But that’s ok, lesson learned. And I listened to you this time. No love for you, no settling down for five fucking years. Don’t worry, this time around, I hear you loud and clear.”
“Lyric, I love you,” he says.
I blink rapidly and take half a step back. “What?”
“You heard me, darlin’,” he says, closing the distance I created. “I. Love. You.”
Each word is punctuated as he wraps his arms around my waist, never breaking eye contact.
“But you said?—”
“I know what I said,” he says, cutting me off. “But things change, don’t they?”
“But—”
“Lyric, last year you scared the hell out of me. I wasn’t ready for you. I knew that night that there was something I couldn’t put words to. I must’ve tried approaching you about it a dozen times, but you didn’t want to hear my apologies. Not that I blame you. I just never got to say I was sorry.”
“You love me?”
Waylon tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, sighing deeply. His fingertips graze my cheek, and I lean in to his touch, letting him cradle my face. I reach up and place my hand over the back of his, holding it against me.
“I do, darlin’,” he says. “I’m just sorry it took so long to figure it out.”
“But what about the woman who was just here? You guys were in your bedroom.”
Waylon laughs, his palm still pressed to my jawline.
“Yeah, that’s my good friend. Her name is Krista Jean. Uh, K.J. You know, the one who’s also been having lady trouble.”
Realization dawns and it must show on my face.
“Yeah, she’s a lesbian. We were back there seeing if one of my hats would fit her because she’s going to some line dance bar,” he says. “But her head is too small.”
“Or maybe your head is too big.”
“Not when they’re my hats.”
“Why are we talking about hats at a time like this?”
“Because you thought I was hooking up with a lesbian.”
“Shut up and kiss me, butthead.”
Waylon leans down, nose brushing against mine. He grips the nape of my neck and inhales deeply.
“Say it one more time,” he whispers.
