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“You seem fine.” I hate that it makes me feel unwanted. Unneeded. That his lack of mental collapse makes me angry. “You haven’t touched me in weeks and you seem fine.
“I am fine… because I don’t need to fuck you, Henley.” He slumps in his seat, rubs a rough hand over his face. “I never did. I just need you. To see you. Talk to you. Be with you. It’s all I’ve ever needed.”
I try to wrap my head around what he’s telling me. As usual, I’ve having a hard time understanding him. “But a few months ago, you—”
“Lost my shit.” Nothing about his face has changed but I can tell he’s embarrassed about what happened. How he behaved. What he made me do. “You and I hadn’t said a word to each other in two weeks.”
He’s right. We barely looked at each other, but he still felt compelled to keep his promise of no drinking and no other women. I feel my stomach drop as the implication of what he’s telling me dawns on me. “So, the physical aspects of our relationship were for my benefit, not yours.”
He laughs again, making a left-hand turn into the parking lot of my building. Baseball season is over, and the streets are quiet. The parking lot only half full. “Don’t get it twisted, sweetheart.” He eases the car up to the front of my building and brakes. “I never needed to fuck you—but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.”
“I’m sorry, Conner.” I keep saying it. Keep doing and saying things to him that warrant the sentiment, but I don’t know what else to say.
“Do you want to know how many women I’ve been with?” I can feel him looking at me, watching my reaction. “I can tell you if you want me to because I remember every single one of them and not one of them mattered. I didn’t feel anything while I was fucking them except relief when it was finally over.”
I asked him that once. Demanded to know how many girls he’d been with, angry and hateful, because none of them were me. “No.” I shake my head, not because I’m afraid of what he’ll tell me be but because it doesn’t matter. “I never thought you weren’t good enough for me…” He looks at me, and even though every instinct I have is screaming at me to look away, I meet his gaze and hold it. “It’s always been the other way around. “I never wanted you to look at me and feel ashamed or embarrassed. I never wanted to look at you and know you felt that way.”
His face changes. Softens. “Ask me how many women I’ve kissed since the first time I kissed you.”
My door is pulled open by the valet on duty and his hand appears to help me out of the car. “How many?” I can feel the valet behind me. Listening to every word. Seeing everything. For the first time, in as long as I can remember, I don’t care. I don’t care who sees. Who knows I’m in love with him. “How many women have you kissed.”
“Only one,” he says quietly. “Only you.”
I can see it on his face, as clear as day.
He’s telling me the truth.
“I think it’s one of the reasons I resisted it for so long.” He gives me a sad smile. “I kissed a lot of girls before you, Henley, and not one of them mattered. I think I knew that kissing you would be different. That it would ruin me, and I was right. The thought of putting my mouth on someone else, letting them put their mouth on me… I can’t think about it, much less do it.” He winces, like he hates himself for saying it out loud. “I know how that sounds. Like I’m—”
“Come up with me.”
As soon as I say it, his jaw goes tight. His eyes go dark. Blank. He thinks it’s like last time. That I want him, but I don’t want people to see us together.
I shake my head when he opens his mouth to refuse me. “I want you to get out of the car and give your keys to the valet. I want you to walk through the lobby with me.” I don’t think about what I’m asking. What it means. What will happen tomorrow. All I care about is now. The way his face relaxes when he realizes what I’m saying. What I’m asking for. That right now, in this moment, I’m choosing him. “That’s what I want, Conner. Yes or no.”
A slow smile spreads over his face, so real the shift of it catches my breath. “Are you sure?”
I shake my head. “No.” I’m suddenly terrified of what happens next. What will happen when people see us together. What they’ll think. The only thing that scares me more is knowing that if I let him drive away, it’ll be over. It’ll be the end of us. “No, I’m not. But I want you to say yes anyway.”