Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“It’s real,” he said, still calm.
He came over and sat down on the edge of the mattress right next to me. Suddenly his eyes were up close again, and the power of being so close to him wasn’t something I could just ignore.
I stood up too quickly, feeling lightheaded. I sat back down on the end of the bed.
“I don’t know if you understand why I haven’t dated anyone in many years,” I told him. “But I can promise you that you wouldn’t enjoy dating me.”
My chest suddenly felt like it had an anvil sitting on top of it.
It was the weight of years and years of experiences. Years of feeling—knowing—that I really had been too intense for just about everyone I dated. Years of being rejected, criticized, and told that I just needed to chill out.
“What don’t you think I’d enjoy?” he asked, taking me as seriously as ever.
Because of course Adam took me seriously. He was so deeply good, in a way I’d never quite encountered before.
I met his eyes, summoning strength.
“Before I stopped dating, I was told by multiple partners that I… needed to spend more time alone,” I admitted. “That I needed to be single. To find myself, whatever the hell that meant.”
“So you did that?”
I nodded. “I did. I realized they were right. When I was in relationships, I lost myself. I stopped dyeing my hair for one guy who hated it. I ate eggplant parmesan every week for one guy, because it was his favorite meal, even though I fucking hate eggplant with the passion of a thousand suns.”
Adam smiled softly. “Eggplant is the worst.”
“I know,” I said. “The point is that I did so many things I regret. I really have found myself, since deciding to stay out of relationships. When I got in them, I was always inevitably told that I was too much, or too intense. And I’m done with that. Done with it.”
A tightness was forming in my throat.
There was a reason I didn’t like talking about this stuff, and why I always kept everything light. It fucking hurt to think of all the guys who had rejected me. Or all the guys that I’d changed myself for, only to get nothing in return.
But I also couldn’t do a damn thing without thinking of Adam.
Couldn’t see the constellations in the night sky without thinking of him, and how much he liked them. Couldn’t imagine life without his sweet text messages. Couldn’t remember what it was like before he had come into my world, making everything feel a little more special.
Adam’s hand hovered over my thigh for a moment, and then he set it down. He squeezed my leg, a comforting feeling that I hadn’t even known I wanted.
“I think that’s a good thing,” Adam finally said, gently running his palm along me. “And it sounds like you actually needed that time and space.”
“I really did.”
“And it also sounds like you really have found yourself,” he said. “As much as any person can. You’re one of the most confident people I’ve ever met. I sure as hell can’t see you eating eggplant for anyone now, or ever making your hair different just because they are rude about it.”
I puffed out a bitter laugh. “Fuck, no. Never again.”
He ran his palm down my leg until he reached my open hand, and he laced his fingers through mine, squeezing my hand as he looked in my eye again.
“And that’s why I’d love to try being your boyfriend, if you’d have me.”
My heart lurched again. “Adam, I just told you why that’s not a good idea.”
“Bullshit,” he said, but the look on his face was still kind and calm.
I tipped my head back, sighing as I looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “You don’t know the real me.”
“Pretty sure I do.”
“There are so many ways that I’m too much.”
My shields were up again, in full force.
“Not for me,” he said. “Not that I’ve ever seen. In fact, I want a whole lot more of you.”
I shook my head. “You don’t know… how annoying I am on road trips, for example.”
I glanced at him again and he gave me a look of doubt.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You probably want a lot of sugary snacks to start off the trip. You probably talk a lot at first, in a really cute way, noticing all sorts of sights on the road and cars driving by. Then you might demand to put on 80s pop music until you fall asleep in the passenger seat, and then you lightly snore, which you’re embarrassed about?”
I felt like I’d just been hit with a water balloon. “Okay, maybe you actually can accurately predict how I act on a road trip. How the hell did you know about what type of music I’d put on?”