Page 185 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

Sounded major to me if his boyfriend was encouraging him to getsurgeryto alter his appearance. That had to have done a number on his self-esteem.

“Didn’t help that my mom wasn’t around,” Alex admitted. “Or that my dad was so busy trying to keep the wealth he’d accumulated to realize I was drowning.”

He must’ve felt…so alone.

“For a while, I was a hot mess,” Alex whispered, quiet and tremulous—like he’d never said this out loud to anyone else before. Like we were sharingsecrets, like kids at a sleepover. “June thought he was a total dick, but even she didn’t know half the shit I did because he encouraged me to. I played it off like losing weight was what caused the changes when it wasn’t true. Avoided her when I was recovering so she wouldn’t see the bruises.” Alex’s shrug jostled me, and he murmured an apology. “Anyway—all of this to say that the whole time we were together he made me feel like his wealth was the reason I should listen to him.”

“Right.”

“But then…a year into our relationship he began asking for favors. Told me his dad cut him off—and like an idiot, I listened.”

“Oh no.”

“I found out six months later, when he used my credit card to buy himself a new car, that his family was fucking broke.” Alex released a breath, nuzzling into my hair. “He was using me. The whole time. It was a giant game. And I wasn’t the only guy he had on the hook, either. Me and…I dunno, three others were funding the lavish lifestyle he could no longer afford.”

“That’s fucked up.” I could hardly wrap my mind around any of that. I’d never had the kind of money that meant plastic surgery, or sports cars, or country clubs. But that didn’t mean that I couldn’t empathize. Or that my heart didn’t hurt for how young and lost and betrayed Alex must have felt. “I…am…Christ. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Alex promised, stroking his fingers behind my ears again. “I’m over it now. At least—for the most part.”

He gathered his thoughts. “I dated after that. Mostly women. A few men. I stopped dating socialites. But that was no better. I was a wallet to them, too. And every time I…” Alex trailed off, eyes unseeing. “Every time I thought I was getting somewhere—they’d get this…this look on their face.”

“A look?”

“I’d do something. Say something, be too loud. Contact them too soon. Ask for too much. And they’d look at me like I was…freaking them out.” Alex laughed, but the sound was brittle. “I felt like such a creep.” I opened my mouth to tell him he wasn’t, but he kept speaking. “I wanted to get married. Have kids. Early. That was what I wanted. But after a while, when I realized that the only way to keep my partners happy was to wall myself off, or give them my wallet, it all felt so…pointless.”

The owl outside hooted again. I jumped, and Alex made a quiet, soothing sound.

“I stopped dating midway through my twenties. I figured…sleeping with people was easier than worrying they were going to manipulate me. Or that I’d scare them off by being myself.” His smile was sad, eyes far, far away. “I’m kinda a jaded asshole—assuming everyone in the world will hurt me, but I do.”

“I don’t think you’re an asshole.”

“That’s because you’re different,” Alex admitted. “I can be myself with you. You don’t…you don’t look at me…that way.” He used his grip on my hair to tug my head back so he could meet my gaze. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, Georgie. You’re so colorful, and expressive, and…andgenuine. And for some, completely un-fucking-fathomable reason you’re not freaked out by me.”

My cheeks flushed, gaze darting away—his words too much for my already frayed nerves to handle. “You’ve been nothing but wonderful,” I said softly. “I hate that those people…those people made you feel like?—”

“Too much?” Alex sighed. “And not enough, at the same time.”

“I…can relate to that.” I had to look at him then, so he could see I meant that. “Maybe too well.”

“I hate that,” Alex replied. “I hate that anyone could make you feel that way.”

“The feeling is mutual,” I said. “Mom says we’re…two peas in a pod.”

“That’s accurate,” Alex’s voice quaked with joy. “In some ways.” His eyes danced, lips impossibly soft as he smiled at me, his earlier unease forgotten. “I’m sneakier than you, though. I don’t think you have a manipulative bone in your body,” Alex added, his lips pressing quick and soft to mine. “You know what’s amazing? I don’t need my guard up around you—in fact, I don’tthink I even have a guard at all when you’re around.”

My eyes burned.

That was…

Fuck.

That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me.

“I can relax and be myself. You push me—I poke you. We laugh. We fuck. We start it all over again. There isn’t a moment when you’re near that I don’t enjoy.”

“A-Alex.” If he didn’t stop, I was going to cry.

“Even now,” he continued, despite my protests. “We both just admitted some seriously fucked up shit and I’msmiling.” I glanced at his mouth—unsurprised to find that he was, in fact, smiling. “I lost my watch, the most—the most important thing I own—and I’msmiling. And it’s not because I feel like I need to smile to placate you, or because it’s easier to pretend like it doesn’t hurt. I’m smiling because eventalkingabout sad, awful, horrible things with you is nice. Do you…do you realize how fucking weird that is?”

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