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“Let me try it this way.” He started rubbing me, applying pressure with his thumb. “Yeah, Ithink this method for uncovering secrets will work.” He hummed, probing his finger through the fabric. “Did you bake at Laura’s?”
“Uh-uh.” Ibreathed, the talking becoming impossible as my lungs quit on me.
“With Zach maybe?” Massaging, kneading, rubbing.
The slightest of headshakes was all Iwas capable of, as my chest felt heavy.
“Then?” He used both fingers to massage me down there, coaxing aloud moan instead of an explanation.
Before he could make me come in his car, Iremoved his hand. “You’re totally ruining the surprise. Ibaked lots of cakes with your mom yesterday afternoon.”
“You what?” His brow furrowed and the corners of his mouth pulled down.
“Baked with your mom.” Iresisted the instinct to flinch at his blunt reaction, trying to understand what set him off. “What’swrong with me baking with your mom?”
“You couldn’twait until Iwas ready to talk?” His jaw ticked, his teeth grinding against each other. “Ithought we talked about waiting.”
“Stop it right there with your conspiracy theories and attitude.” Ibreathed out through my mouth, concentrating on how to both defend myself from the harsh accusations and pull him out of his self-destructive mood.
“Ipromised you something and Imeant it. The only reason Ikept this asecret was to not ruin what we prepared, together, for you. Even if you weren’tso…convincing, Iwould’ve told you anyway once we got there.” Iballed my hands into fists to stop them from trembling.
He cared for me and he trusted me, let me into the innermost private corners of his heart, to the corners he saved for his parents all these years ago. The corners they left empty.
Iunderstood him, Isympathized. It still fucking hurt that he reacted that way.
“Erin, I’msorry.” He reached to touch me and Igrimaced, feeling raw and vulnerable. “I’msorry for being ashithead. I’msorry to have something to be sorry for.”
“I’ll tell you what happened yesterday.” My voice quavered yet somehow, Ipersisted, ignoring his apologies. “Your mom’sreally sweet and also really sad. From her sadness she started talking about you and your history. You know what Itold her?” Besides asmall tick in his mouth no part of him moved, so Ianswered for the both of us, “Itold her that I’mwaiting for you to talk. Only you.”
His reply didn’tcome even when we parked outside his parents’ house.
“Thomas…” Iplaced ahand on his shoulder, calling him from whatever scenario he’dbeen replaying in his head. “Relationships are hard, even to people who didn’tgo through what you did. It’sokay to have arelapse, it happens.”
He turned to me, his glacial stare slowly melting. “You deserve better, not to walk on eggshells or to comfort me for being an asshole.”
“I’mnot walking on eggshells and you’re not an asshole. Look”—Icaressed his bearded cheek down to his neck—“we both have issues, Thomas, and it’sokay. It’saprocess Iam aware of.”
“You should run from me while you can.”
It was my turn to raise my voice. “No. My life wasn’tperfect before we met, and it definitely wouldn’tbe perfect if Ijust up and left. You’re good, you do good by me. I’mnot giving up on you.”
His shoulders slacked the more Italked. “You’re not upset?”
“Admittedly there were better ways to react,” Ichuckled, elated for pulling him through this. “But Istand by my word: life isn’tperfect.”
“You’re really something.” He finally leaned into my hand and let out along breath. “Thank you for believing in me.”
“Don’tbe silly, Ilo—” My mouth clamped shut before the L-word tumbled out. “Ilive to serve.”
Thomas’sknowing look pinned me in place before he bent down, brushed his lips against my ear, and whispered, “Ilike you alot, too.”
