Page 52 of It Must Be Love

"Anything else?"

"Isn't that enough?" I snorted, wiping my tears.

"Okay, so you're worried that he'll spend Christmas Eve with you, eat your awesome food, and tell everyone that you're a doormat who has no pride, that even though he's treated you horribly, you still cooked for him. Yes?"

I groaned. "Well, when you put it that way, it sounds stupid. Why would he spend Christmas Eve with me just to tell someone I'm a moron?"

"Okay, so…this end state is not very likely?" He sneezed several times after that, and I waited for him to blow his nose. "I'm back, Sparky," he said hoarsely.

"He's not coming over to screw with me. He wants to spend Christmas Eve with me, which is weird."

"As weird as him sending you a Thanksgiving meal?"

"Weirder."

He laughed softly. "Now, the other thing you're worried about. He'll get you into bed, get you naked, and say he can't stand your scars; they turn him off and leave."

"Yes," I whispered. I could hear Amias saying all those things to me.

"How likely is that, Naya?"

"Very likely," I choked out.

"You think he's that much of a douchebag?"

"No, I think my scars are that—"

"One thing you imagine him saying that shit, quite another you saying it to yourself," he reprimanded. "You think he'll say those things to you? You think he's that shallow a man?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I'm scared that he will."

"I'm not going to tell you how to feel or that your feelings are wrong; they're yours and you have every right to them. How about this? You tell him about your scars before you take your clothes off and see his reaction and then assess if you want to move forward," Darren suggested.

I felt like an idiot. "He doesn't want to sleep with me, Darren. I'm just going off the deep end here. I think he feels bad about…whatever and I resigned and…I don't know why he wants to spend time with me. I'm so confused."

Darren chuckled. "Okay, I need to go back to sleep now, but you remember that you're in control, and if he misbehaves, kick him out of your house, and as soon as I stop feeling like death, I'll go beat that asshole up."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Absolutely, Sparky."

I felt a little better after talking to Darren, but then I took a shower and stood in front of my closet, and the fear was back.

She has no fashion sense.

I looked at my clothes and grimaced. Everything was black. Long and black, covering my whole body. I didn't have one sexy outfit.

I texted Darren: I know you're dying. But what should I wear?

Darren: I'm circling the drain, babe. Wear the dress I bought you.

Me: FUCK NO!

Darren: Or you can wear your black yoga pants. Those be homey, Miss Chicken!

Me: I probably don't even fit that dress.

Darren: Don't insult my training, Sparky. You're in shape.

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