Page 56 of Book Boyfriends
“Yeah…” I sigh, causing him to arch one brow. “I already had that meet/cute in real life.” I rake my teeth against my bottom lip, weighing how much to tell him.
The two half-eaten ice cream dishes that we’re sharing teeter us between friendship and something more. Opening my emotional baggage from past relationships would cannonball us into date territory, but the earnest expression covering his face coaxes me on.
“My ex, Will. That’s how we met,” I say, dragging my spoon through my ice cream. “Lena, my cousin, Hope, and I wereinseparable growing up and that extended into our twenties. The three of us were at a bar. I went to get us more drinks, and this guy who had been hitting on me most of the night got extra pushy?—”
“How?”
“He grabbed my ass.”
My attention moves to Davis, his fingers curled around the table’s edge, and an equally sharp tic tightens his jaw. Anger shadows his bright expression.
“He didn’t hurt me.” I reach over and squeeze his forearm, glad when his rigid muscles relax. “I slapped his hand away. Just as I spun to tell him to fuck off, Will stepped in. After he and his friends escorted Mr. Handsy out, Will sent over a round of drinks for us to make up for the failing of his sex.” I roll my eyes. “At twenty-two, I thought it was about the swooniest thing.”
“How long did you date?”
“Five years.”
“That’s a long time. Were you in love?”
“Iwas,” I say.
“Just you?” His brow puckers.
“Just me.”
He nods. “What happened?”
“The CliffsNotes version?”
He threads our fingers. “Whatever version you want to share.”
His palm’s warmth eases the tension within me about telling this story. I’m not someone who doesn’t share myself with others. I’m just selective with whom I open up fully. Most people just get pieces of what I want to share with them. For a moment, I think of Owen talking about being a portion or a part of someone’s life, and I get it. With portions, you only share some things, with someone who is part of your life, you share everything.
It's a dangerous game I’m playing, and I know it. Still, I want to share these things. With Davis, I don’t sense the need to hide portions of myself. To only worry about his feelings, his wants. It’s a little addicting and terrifying to be comfortable enough to just exist without worrying about managing.
“From the moment I met Will I thought he was it… I thought we were so happy. Five years ago, we even planned to move in together. Three days before that, he broke up with me in a text message.” Eyes closed, that last text exchange flashes in my memory.
“A fucking text message?” Davis seethes.
I squeeze his hand in mine. “Hethought that not doing it in person would save me from the embarrassment of my reaction in front of him. Turns out he’d been hooking up with my cousin Lena on-and-off for the last three years of our relationship. Of course, she claims they were only drunken kisses. Nothing more. But the moment Lena broke up with her boyfriend, Will showed up at her place to console her. She says one thing led to another, and he admitted he’d been in love with her for most of our relationship. That—” my voice wobbles. “It had been her he’d noticed at the bar that night, but she’d had a boyfriend at the time.”
“You were inseparable since you were girls,” he almost parrots my words.
“I haven’t spoken to her since she came to my apartment a month after Will dumped me to confess everything.” I blink, damming up the threatening tears.
Despite the far too many tears already shed, their betrayal always coaxes more. Two people I loved lied to me. They broke my trust, making me question if they ever loved me. Making me question myself.
“Next Saturday will be the first time in five years that I’ll be in the same room with Lena and Will.” I swallow down the emotions tangled in my throat.
“Why will you be in a room with them?”
“They’re getting married,” I say quietly. An acidic taste burns my throat.
“Why put yourself through that?” He clicks his tongue.
“For my mom.”
“She shouldn’t ask that of you.” The dark clouds in his expression contrast with the soft, steady timbre of his voice.
