Page 59 of Let It Be Me

“And I came to this party to have a good time, but you’re kind of fucking that up for me,” I say to her back.

She says nothing.

I put my hand on her shoulder and make her face me. “What is your problem tonight?”

“I don’t know.”

I scoff. “Yeah, neither do I.”

She tries to turn her back on me again, but I don’t let her.

“If you’re mad because I was late, I’m sorry, but I already apologized. And, look, no one made you come here tonight. My friends?—”

“I don’t fucking care about you being late.”

“Then what? You’ve been acting like a bitch the entire night.” She closes her eyes, and a pained expression comes over her face. Immediately, I feel guilty. “Sorry, Ruby, I?—”

“I don’t want you to get back together with Allison.” She opens her eyes. They’ve lost the fire they’ve had all night.

I stare at her. “Come again?”

“I don’t want you to be with her because ...” She takes a deep breath. “Because I want you to be with me. I wasn’t drunk the night I crawled into your bed and kissed you. I knew exactly what I was doing, Lorenzo. And I’m not sorry.”

I don’t have a name for the feeling that rises inside me then. I want to pull her close and hold her, because the way she’s looking at me and that voice of hers is reminding me that underneath all that hellfire and chaos, Ruby is pure sugar, the sweetest person I’ve ever met. And the most vulnerable. And ever since I grew taller than her, all I’ve wanted to do is protect her.

But I don’t reach out to hold her, because I’m still processing what she’s saying.

“I’m sorry I’ve been a bitch all night. When you were late, I knew you were with her and I was imagining—I mean, I planned on telling you tonight and then—” She squeezes her eyes shut and lets out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry. I was mad at myself.”

“For—”

“For pushing you toward Allison. For letting it get this far.” She swallows. “I tried to pretend I was okay with it like always because I know she’s the kind of girl you want to marry someday, but I was lying to you when I said I thought you should give it another chance with her. And that’s one thing I never wanted to do to you. And I know she worships you, Lorenzo, but so do I.”

She looks up at me with bright, hopeful eyes, and suddenly I’m certain: I want this. “Ruby.” I reach for her hand, but she’s not done.

“I know you said this isn’t our time, but sometimes you’re wrong.” Her lips are pink and glossy, and they part as she sighs. “I think this time you’re wrong. Because you’re here and I’m here, and right now there’s nothing to keep us apart.”

I’m the worst with words when it actually matters. Everything I want to say to her spins in my brain like a tornado until the words are impossible to string together. So I kiss her.

When I press my mouth to hers, she seems surprised, but she comes to me so easily. She doesn’t need any convincing as my lips move to part hers just a tiny bit; she’s already as soft as she’s ever been under my touch. My tongue glides against hers, and as soon as I get a taste of her, I’m shot right back to that night on the dock when kissing her felt like the most perfect moment of my life.

When I pull back, her eyelashes flutter. “So you admit it?” she says softly. “You were wrong.” She brushes her lips against mine.

The taste of her mouth and the sensation of her hand on my chest are like a spell that makes everything but her disappear. “I was wrong. As wrong as I’ve ever been.”

She reaches up to kiss me again. Her fingers curl around the fabric of my shirt as I urge her lips apart with my tongue.

“I’ve got it!” someone hollers from behind me, and Ruby and I spring apart like cats. Reeve appears in the doorway and takes us in. My heart’s beating like it did the first time my parents caught me smoking.

“Hey,” I say, trying to play it cool. Meanwhile, Ruby’s wiping her lips with the back of her hand; real smooth.

“What’s up? There still a six-pack in that cooler?” Reeve nods at a busted-looking foam cooler in the corner.

I hop to it, glad to have a reason to turn my guilty face away, and crack open the cooler. “It’s yours.” I hand him the dripping cans of beer.

“Sweet,” he says. “Hey, you’re up next for beer pong. I’m taking your spot if you’re late.”

“I won’t be.”

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