Disappointed.
“I’ve never met a young woman who didn’t want to be properly courted.”
I have a flashback to our conversation in the library, the one where she asked why I’d never asked her on a date.
“Forget I said anything,” she said after bringing it up. Too late, I clamped my lips together, confused as fuck.
“I didn’t realize you wanted me to ask you out.”
She looked up at me then, pretty brows bent. “I’ve been flirting and messaging you for weeks. I brought you cookies. I called you to pick me up from a bar in the middle of the night. Kissed you on my porch. What did you think I was doing all this time?”
“I don’t fucking know, Laurel. Friendzonin’ me? I thought we were studyin’. What did you think we were doing?”
“I thought you were waiting to ask me out until the time was right,” she blurted out, cheeks red as her hair. “I can’t believe I said that. I don’t ask guys out—I’ve never asked a guy out in my life, and I’m not starting with you.”
Shit.
I’m an ass.
Me: Sorry about that whole thing with my parents.
Laurel: It’s okay, I survived. Only a mild heart attack. Lana charged me back to life with sushi.
Me: I apologize in advance for anything my family says tomorrow.
Laurel: I’m so nervous. I hope they don’t think I’m…you know, sleazy or whatever.
Me: They don’t think you’re sleazy. They spent the entire past hour grilling me about you.
Laurel: I guess I can use tomorrow as an opportunity to redeem myself from the walk of shame I did in front of them tonight.
Me: Tu me manques déjà
Laurel: Does that mean what I think it means?
Me: What do you think it means?
Laurel: You miss me terribly?
Me: Uh, that’s kind of exactly what it means. LOL
Laurel: You are the sweetest. Honestly. I miss you so much. Do I sound clingy saying that?
Me: No, because I just said it.
Me: My parents just left.
Laurel: And?
Me: And I’m thinking you should get your sweet little ass back over here.
Laurel: God, now all I can think about is you touching me.
Me: Then what are you waiting for?
Laurel
“So what did your parents say after I left?” We’re lying on our stomachs in the middle of his bed, feet dangling off the other side. I switched into yoga pants before coming back over, but I don’t expect them to stay on long.
“My mom only wanted to talk about you, and my dad kept tryin’ to talk about wrestling.”
“What did she want to know about me?” My stomach can’t help but leap at this news.
Those broad shoulders of Rhett’s move up and down in a shrug. “You know, the usual.”
Oh God, if he’s going to be vague, I’m going to have a stroke. “Like what?”
“Rex would not shut up about you being my girlfriend.” He laughs it off, but I detect an undertone in his voice that has my ears perking up. “And my mom kept pryin’ for details.”
Pryin’.
I swear, my heartbeat quickens. “What did you say to the girlfriend thing?”
“I didn’t want her to get all excited, you know? My mom’s the type that would start plannin’ a weddin’ and shit—she has three boys—so, you know, I told her the truth, that we were talking.”
I pull back. Talking?
I mean, I get it; he doesn’t know where we stand, and neither did I until just now. I try to laugh, swallow down the disappointment. Downplay how that word makes me feel.
Talking.
What does that even mean?
“Talking.”
His laugh sounds strangled. Nervous. “You know—hanging out.”
Stomach in knots, I turn to face him, body twisting. “Is that what you want? To hang out?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you want, you know…more?” With me. Specifically.
“What do you want?”
“Rhett, I’m asking you.” I’m curt, but need to know I’m not wasting my time with someone who doesn’t want me back—that his heart, like mine, is invested.
If even just a little.
It hasn’t occurred to me before this moment that he might be using me for sex, using my body, like the guys that have come before him—but hearing him hesitate like this? It just might break my heart.
My eyes squeeze closed; I can’t look at him. “I’m not trying to push you into anything Rhett, I swear I’m not. I can handle the truth, I just need to know if you want what I want.” Before I fall completely and madly in love with you.
I’m more than halfway there already.
Feeling decidedly Alex-like, I realize I’m an utter asshole for bringing this up. It’s unfair to him, I know this; he has never been in a relationship before, so how would he know how he felt about me after only a few weeks? The last thing I want to do is railroad the poor guy into a relationship by being pushy. For all I know, he hasn’t had a girlfriend for a reason.
What if he doesn’t want one? Just wants to sow his wild oats? Catch up from his lifelong dry spell?
I like him far too much to stay silent.
I have to know.
“Are you askin’ if I want a girlfriend?”
I roll to my side, studying his expression. “I guess I am.”
He mulls it over, rolling to his back, arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling. “Any girlfriend, or someone specific?”
I narrow my eyes; who knew he’d be this cheeky? Bite my bottom lip to stop myself from smiling.
“Don’t be coy,” I scold, impatient. Sulking.
“Oh, I’m the coy one, huh?” his deep voice teases. “So what I’m gettin’ from that cute pout of yours is you wouldn’t mind, you know, being, uh…committed.”
My ears perk up.
Commitment. I almost breathe the word out loud. Yes.
“So, no sleeping with other people while we’re sleeping with each other,” he muses.
“Right.”
“That won’t be a problem for me.” When he laughs, I want to smack him for joking around and not giving me a straight answer. Ugh.
Ten minutes later, he still hasn’t answered my question.
Ten minutes later, I reach to pull on my Chucks, crouching at the foot of the bed. Slip one shoe on, moving to zip the soft leather up its side.
A warm hand touches my spine, caressing my back, up and down. Kisses my neck from behind. “Goin’ somewhere?”
“Home.” I glance at him over my shoulder.
Rhett furrows his brow. “But I thought…”
I shoot him a sharp look, trying to control my out-of-control emotions. “You thought what?”
I know I’m being hypersensitive, but I’m in uncharted territory here, completely out of my element, and don’t know quite what to do with myself. Normally I’m the one calling the shots in my relationships, the one being chased after, showered with compliments, and getting gifts.
Rhett has shown me none of those things, and yet…
Here I am, dreaming about him every day and every night. Falling asleep with a smile on my face, waking up thinking about him, with his name on my lips.
“I-I don’t know what I thought,” he stammers, hands splayed helplessly. “Help me out here, Laurel. I don’t know what I did to piss you off.”
“Truthfully?” My shoulders slouch, fingers releasing their hold on my shoe, letting it drop to the ground. I sit up straight, ashamed. “I don’t know why I’m leaving.”
What a liar.
I don’t have a clue what we’re doing and can’t handle not knowing. I guess that makes me a control freak, doesn’t it? I can’t push the subject with him because if I do, I run the risk of pushing him away.
Rhett simply isn’t equipped to deal with a girl like me.
It’s depressing.
As it is, I practice every ounce of self-control I have, doing my best not to eat him alive. It’s hard; he’s so freaking irresistible.
“For what it’s worth, I want you to stay.” He leans in again, brushing my long hair out of the way, kissing the back of my neck. “Stay.”