Page 72 of Always Love You More
She glances around, looking for a TV.
“I, uh … I have a DVD player that I use.”
She doesn’t say anything; instead, she starts sorting through the pile. “I haven’t seen any of these.”
“We could watch one,” I offer hesitantly. Why am I so fucking nervous? This whole night has just put me on edge.
“Like, right now?” she asks.
“Only if you want to.”
She seems wary, and it only makes me more nervous.
I asked her if she was all right when we left the table, and she said she was, but maybe she was only saying that to make me feel better. Maybe she just feels sorry for me. For my fucked-up life. Maybe it’s all too much for her. MaybeI’mtoo much for her.
“I get it if you don’t want to,” I say, my voice coming out colder than I meant it to.
Her body goes stiff against mine before she turns. “What was that?”
“What?”
“Thatfuck youvoice.”
“I didn’t use afuck youvoice.”
Maybe I did.
“Uh, yeah, you did.” She folds her arms over her chest. “You know you did.”
“You just don’t have to do me any favors, that’s all.”
“Favors?”
“Yeah, favors.” I take a step back, needing the space. “You don’t have to stick around ’cause you …”
She leans forward. “’Cause I what?”
“Pity me.”
“You think I’m here because Ipityyou?”
God, everything in my head right now is all fucked up. I’ve never brought a girl home. I’ve never broughtanyoneexcept Billy home.
“I don’t—”
“Why would you think that?”
I run a hand through my hair like it’ll erase her question. Erase the skin-crawling feeling I’m getting talking about this.
“I don’t know.” I blow out a breath. “It’s just … I would understand if you wanna leave after that dinner.”
“None of that was your fault,” she says. “If anything, it made me want to stay even more.”
I throw out a hand. “Because you feel bad for me.”
“No, Jameson.” She takes a step forward. “Because even after that shit, after all he puts you through, you’re still you.”
“What does that mean?”
