“Those are the stories we told each other.”I opened a few cupboards before he directed me to the one with the frying pans.“Except I never said I wanted to get rid of you.”
“And I never said you were holding me back.”He smiled, slow and sweet.“We filled in those blanks for ourselves.”
“Yep.”Thanks, teenage self-esteem issues.“I was going through it, and I was too young and stupid to understand that everyone else was too.Or that I might be contributing to them going through it.”
Truly, I had somehow managed to convince myself that, even though I was aware ghosting Diego was shitty of me and I owed him a huge apology, he was happier without me.Without my secrets and lies, without my stupid football bullshit, without the weight of me slowing him down as he burst out of Stanley County like a fucking firecracker.
But if I really believed that, why had the thought of him filled me with regret for eight fucking years?
We both took a second in silence as I cooked.And then, as I was pushing the eggs onto slices of bread, Diego said firmly, “Stop acting like you have something to prove to me.I want to feel like you’re here because you like me, not because you want to make up for some old shit that was a wash anyhow.”
I glanced over my shoulder at him.“You know that’s not why I’m here.Mustard?”
“Fuck yeah.”Then he backtracked, “Even if I know it, I wanna feel it, too.”
It was a fair ask.“I’m on it.And if you catch me doing or saying anything that makes you feel like I’m just trying to perform for you, call my ass out.”
“Oh, I will.”
“But I swear, the only trial I’ve had these past three weeks is the way you refuse to see me two days in a row.”I finished making the sandwiches as I spoke.
“Well, I saw you yesterday.And I’m seeing you today.”
I slid his food across the counter to him.“And what are your plans for the day?”
He cocked his head slightly, gaze dropping to take me in, then sliding back up.“You.”
My blood flow diverted instantly.Those eyes, man.All he had to do was look at me.“Good.”I cleared my throat, which felt tight of a sudden.“You wanna go for a hike, hit the museums, do some—?”
“I want to take you back to bed and keep you there until we’re too hungry and tired to fuck anymore.”He shot me a pointed look and picked up his sandwich.
My skin tightened; even my nipples got hard.The eyes were one thing, but the mouth on him… Phew.
Made me want to pin him down and make him scream.Which was funny, seeing as he seemed to enjoy being bossy in bed, so far.But sometimes, especially when he was running his mouth, for either dirty or bratty reasons, I got this urge… “Sold.”
We ate in silence for a few seconds, except for Diego’s appreciative hums.And then I asked, “So, if I’m not jumping through hoops or proving anything, how come I’m not your boyfriend?”
He glared at me over his sandwich.
I held up both hands in surrender.“I’m just saying.”
He was clearly trying not to smile, but his eyes gave him away.“Cute.”
I raised my eyebrows.I was joking about the timing but serious about wanting to be his.
His smile broke through.“I’ll think about it.You sure you don’t have any serious conversations you need to have with me before you jump in headfirst like that?”
I hesitated.
And he caught it.“Oh god.What?”
“Last night, when you were exhausted, you kept, uh, offering sex.Did you feel like you had to, for some reason, or was it just the thing where you default to the familiar?”
He winced and took a huge bite of his sandwich.
I wondered if I’d just blown all the goodwill I’d racked up.Then remembered that I was supposed to be honest, not trying too hard.
After chewing thoughtfully for a while, he sighed and said, “I guess I feel a certain type of way when you’re being really… kind.And I’m not sure how to react to it, so I just offer to fuck, yeah.”
