Page 51 of Love Unspoken

"And now you go ahead and cancel it. How did your mother take it?"

I groaned out loud.

"That well, huh?"

I laughed in self-deprecation. "She was pissed as hell. And then she wanted to know if I was seeing anyone else and if I was to make sure she was as classy as Ann."

"Your mother is a tool."

"Ann is a lot like my mother."

"Who is also a tool."

I wondered how my mother would feel about Naya. She'll think she can eat her alive until she tries, I thought in good humor. Naya would be a hard nut for her to crack. The woman was tough and humble. She had that quiet strength that didn't collapse under pressure.

"Ann mentioned something that…she said that Naya had been in an accident, and she has a lot of scars."

"Accident? We never heard. Did it happen when she was a child?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. But she said something on the lines of that I'd find her scars ugly, that...."

"And now you're worried that you only care about surface beauty?"

"Fuck no," I protested. "I don't care if she has scales under her clothes. I'll probably still be sporting a hard on as soon as she opens her mouth and talks. I don’t know when she went from irritating girl who has a crush on me to sexy woman I want to fuck."

"Then what?"

"I just have a feeling that it did a lot of emotional damage as well. I'm scared I may say or do something to worsen it."

"Be mindful," Hayes recommended, "And be respectful. That's about all you can do."

"I don't want to ever hurt her again," I confessed, "I probably will but not on purpose. She's a kind and good person. I wish I hadn't been so blind before."

"You can't rush maturity," Hayes consoled me, "And your eyes are wide open now Amias, and that's worth its weight in Burgundy."

NINETEEN

NAYA

"What if he wants to have sex?" I asked Darren as I put the duck inside the pre-heated oven. I was going French for this Christmas. I was making duck with plum sauce, mashed potatoes, almond cauliflower roast, green beans with tomato confit, and a classic French yule log for dessert.

"Then have sex if you want to," Darren suggested and then blew his nose. He'd evolved from coughing to a runny nose now. I almost pulled my earbuds out, he was so loud.

"I can't just have sex."

"Sure, you can. You have a pussy, and usually that means⁠—"

"Gross, Darren. Don't ever talk about my lady parts."

Darren laughed hoarsely and then blew his nose again.

"You scared, Sparky?" he finally asked.

"Yeah."

"Tell me why?"

It was a tactic he'd taught me to calm anxiety. When I was scared, I'd take it to the worst-case scenario and then assess the situation from that lens.