“I wear a lot of makeup,” she said. “Usually.”
And she cried it off last night? Because of me? While I was passed out drunk in her lap?
Jesus.
“You don’t need to wear makeup when you’re with me,” I told her.
She reached for her coffee and took a sip, but she still wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“I like you naked,” I said, my voice low and gentle.
Her eyes flicked to mine, but she didn’t look happy to hear it or anything.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her. “Why does it bother you so much?”
She gave me an irritated look. “I don’t like having flaws, okay?”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it.
She frowned.
“You think that’s a flaw? Devi… you took soccer cleats to the face while you were kicking ass at a game you loved to play. That’s not a flaw. It’s a badge of honor, if anything. It’s a life achievement. They should’ve awarded you ‘badass of the year.’ I saw you on the soccer field. You were amazing.”
“I wasn’t that good,” she muttered. “I just liked to play.”
I shook my head, kind of in awe that she didn’t seem to realize it… “You were fire on that field, Devi. And it wasn’t your fault no one noticed. That no one at that school really cared about the girls’ soccer team like they cared about guys’ hockey. It was just another thing that was wrong at that place.”
Her eyes went all liquidy and soft. “Why did you care? You came to every damn practice.”
I shrugged. “You were there. How else would I ever get to see you outside school? You never came to my games, much less practices.”
“I came to a few games,” she said.
“Well, I’m sure it wasn’t much to see. You were better at soccer than I ever was at hockey.”
“Thank you for saying that.” She hesitated, like she was choosing her words carefully. “You weren’t… bad. If I recall, you fought more than you played, though.”
“True.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t like being mediocre? So I made a spectacle of myself in other ways? Testosterone? Ego? I was better at football, honestly. But my ego wouldn’t let me play that sport anymore. So, I played hockey.”
“Shane was good,” she said thoughtfully.
“Ouch.”
She grinned.
“And Shane was more than good,” I admitted.
Then I reached and took her hand. I slid closer to her. When I looked at her scar, she tensed and drew back a bit. I leaned in until my lips touched the scar on her cheek… then drifted up along the scar to the side of her nose. I kissed her there.
“This is not a flaw,” I whispered.
“It makes me feel weak,” she whispered back.
I drew back and looked into her dark eyes.
