Page 61 of False Assumptions

He opened his mouth like he was going to argue some more, but closed it when he realized what she’d said. “Okay?” His voice sounded hopeful.

She nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s talk. I’ll even give you more than five minutes. Do you want to talk here, or go somewhere else?”

Shaking his head, he looked her over. “Um, here’s fine.” He gestured to a bench. “Sit with me?”

She led the way to the bench he’d indicated, grateful that he put almost a foot between them when he sat next to her. He sat at an angle so he could face her, but he kept his eyes on the concrete at her feet. His hands ran through his hair and over his face, and he shook his head like he was sorting and discarding a variety of openers.

Finally, he dropped his hands in his lap and met her eyes. “I’m sorry, Layla. For everything. For not fighting harder when you came over. For not texting you right away when that happened.” He shook his head. “I didn’t even know anyone had taken pictures. I didn’t want any of those girls. I didn’t want them to flash their tits at me. I left the room as soon as it happened and found some of the other guys to hang with for a while. Nothing happened.” He stressed those two words, giving them equal weight. “You have to believe me.”

His face was a picture of sincerity and desperation. She knew that feeling, that overpowering desire to be understood. She’d felt it herself too many times to count. But she dropped her gaze to her hands and smoothed down her skirt, crossing her legs.

“What exactly happened?”

Evan let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t even fucking know. One minute Romero and I were talking and getting beers, and the next thing I knew, two girls had latched onto me and spun me around to a row of girls flashing us. Romero was cracking up and told me to take my pick. I told him to fuck off and pulled myself away from the chicks who had ahold of my arms.” He rubbed his hand over his head again. “I used to hook up at parties a lot. So I guess they all assumed that I was there for that. Romero found me later and apologized, but neither of us knew how much damage had been done by then.”

She nodded, processing all of that, her eyes on her knees again, but not really focused on anything. While he read his poem, she’d figured out that he hadn’t cheated on her. Why else would he get up and say all that in front of a big crowd? The place had been packed, and he’d bared his soul in front of all of them.

“Layla?” She looked up to meet Evan’s eyes, his voice pulling her out of her racing thoughts. The last of the sunset had faded while they were outside, and his face was partly shadowed, but she could make out the hope that lingered there. “Do you believe me?”

“Yes.” It came out as a whisper, and she didn’t want him to doubt her belief. Not now. Not ever. So she firmed her voice and said it again. “Yes, Evan, I believe you.” She sighed, a flood of guilt washing over her. She should’ve let him explain that day when she threw that picture in his face. But she’d been so willing to believe the worst of him. And now here he was begging for her forgiveness.

Unable to meet his eyes, she knew she had to apologize. “I’m really sorry, Evan. I—“ She took a deep breath and forced herself to look at him. “I should’ve talked to you instead of going off half-cocked about a picture someone posted on Facebook.” Shaking her head, she made herself continue. “You’ve been nothing but good to me, and I believed the worst of you. I’m so sorry.” She dropped her gaze back to her clenched hands in her lap. This conversation had to end soon. At least now they both knew the truth. But with the way she’d acted, no way would Evan want to bother with her anymore.

His hand reached over and covered hers, and he scooted closer so he could tip her chin up with his other hand. “It’s okay, Layla. I get that I have a history and everyone’s still learning to look past that, including you. And I know that you have a history, too, with guys with my kind of reputation.” He pressed his lips together, not quite stopping the sigh that escaped. “I guess I thought that you and I had moved beyond that.”

She turned her hand palm up under his, relishing the contact and realizing exactly how much she’d missed him these last two weeks. She’d wallowed in her misery then buried herself in homework to try to distract herself. But with him here, now, touching her, she couldn’t ignore the truth anymore. He made her feel more alive than she did without him. She’d missed their connection, their jokes, their rides to and from school. So much.

“We were. Mostly. I didn’t really think you’d cheat on me, but I always figured you’d get bored with me at some point. So seeing that picture seemed to confirm my worst fears, and I just knew I was right about everything.” Her lips trembled, and she rolled them between her teeth to stop them, but she couldn’t prevent the tear that escaped and rolled down her cheek. “I really am sorry. Can you forgive me?”

His answer was to wipe away the tear with his thumb and press his lips to hers. She didn’t react at first, too stunned. But when he kissed her again, she leaned into him, her lips pushing against his. He pulled back and looked down into her face, his blue eyes full of heat and promise, then his hand went to the back of her head and he slanted his lips over hers again, his tongue sliding into her mouth, and for the first time in weeks the world felt right again.

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