Page 87 of Lovesick
You shouldn’t have to apologize for feeling.
I’ve never thought about it like that. “Sorry” is a pretty common word in my vocabulary when it comes to my parents. Not because I do anything wrong, but because I don’t think I’m good enough. I never realized how…belittling…it is.
How did I get so lucky to have someone like Crew in my life? After Felix, I believed that romance was a constructcreated by humans to appease our inherent loneliness—that a love without parameters couldn’t possibly exist in a world full of selfish hearts. But Crew—the quintessence of all things I used to despise—is the first person to falsify my theory. That night, when he saved my life, my whole outlook changed.
Guilt wedges itself in the currents of his blue eyes—eyes akin to the sun-warmed surface of a pool in summer. He inches closer, nudging his forehead against mine. “Plus, you said that you didn’t want to be treated any differently, and the first chance I got, I fucked up.”
“It was a misunderstanding,” I argue.
“I’m really sorry I ruined how fantastic that night was,” he says.
“You didn’t. I’m really sorry I misread your character.Again.Deep down, I knew you didn’t mean it in a malicious way. I need to learn to communicate with you about how I’m feeling, and I need to get off my high horse and let you explain yourself instead of jumping to conclusions.”
“I’d really appreciate that,” he whispers under his breath.
“Ugh, finally. Mom and Dad made up,” Irelyn comments from her spot on the bench, where she’s got her sunglasses lowered on the bridge of her nose like she’s watching her favorite soap opera.
I chuckle and shake my head.
Crew—seizing the moment—leans forward to capture my lips in a kiss, but a group of people walk by us at the last moment. Sure, they’re not paying any attention to the would-be-smackaroo, yet I turn my head anyways, making sure that there will be no mouth-to-mouth in front of MU’s student body.
We’re still a secret, and I hat?—
“I hate that I can’t kiss you in public,” he interrupts, mirroring my thoughts.
He does?
“You do?”
“Fuck. Yes, Merit. I’ve been a secret for too many people. You, my father, my exes. I want to show you off. I want to dote on you. I want everyone at school to know that Merit Lawson is off the market, and I’m the lucky bastard who has her.”
I want the same thing too, but my dad…ugh, my dad. He’s a nutcase. He’d burn the world to the ground if he found out that his daughter was participating in after-dark activities with his esteemed hockey player.
Then again, my relationship with my father is literally in the trenches right now. I’m stuck living at home, going to and from school on a strict schedule, and being monitored wherever I go.
It feels like there are cinder blocks tied around my ankles, pulling me deeper into the bowels of a russet-colored lake, pruning the body that tries so desperately to fight its way free.
“I’m done hiding from your parents,” he proclaims.
My face drains of color. “What?”
“I don’t want to be a secret anymore. I’m tired of stepping on eggshells around your dad. I’m tired of sneaking around behind his back. I know this is putting you in a tough situation, but you need to tell your parents the truth. The longer we keep this from them, the worse things will get.”
He does have a point. It’s not fair to Crew; it’s not fair to my parents. Just because I’m a coward doesn’t mean the people I care about should suffer. And if my parents really do love me as much as they claim—with their micromanaging and back seat driving—then they’ll accept that we’re together.
I’m so fucking done playing by the rules.
“I’m going to tell them, I swear. I just have to find the right time.”
Crew pauses to digest my words, breaks out into a goofy little dance, then composes himself. “Really? That’s—that’s the best fucking news I’ve ever heard, Princess.”
He doesn’t hesitate to swoop me into his arms, spin me around, and nuzzle his face into my neck while I’m reduced to a giggling devotee. My legs flail about, and a star-speckled cosmos manifests in my chest, immersing my heart in a violet ombré and an infrared light strong enough to kill any seedling of sadness.
When he sets me down, he fixes some of my flyaways.
“By the way, how did you know where I was?” I ask.
Crew grimaces, looking behind him at Harlan and Sutton, who are huddled behind a low-coverage bush at least a few feet away.
