Page 83 of All Your Pucking Secrets

“I hope so.” I squeeze the steering wheel as nerves crowd my stomach. He’s been telling me since our first encounter that he wants me back, and I’m finally ready to give him that chance.

Please don’t mess it up.

I navigate to Francesca’s. There are no parking spots outside, but I find one on the next block, and we walk back to the restaurant. My hand brushes his as we move side by side, and I’m tempted to thread our fingers together, but my palms are sweaty, and I don’t want to give away how nervous I am.

When we reach the entrance, I push the door open and step inside. My mouth waters from the rich aroma of tomatoes and pasta. I glance at Tyler, who is studying our surroundings. I wonder what he sees. I’ve been here several times, so I’ve stopped noticing the yellow walls and the chips and scuff marks on the red vinyl floor.

“Table for two?” a waitress asks.

“Yes.” I smile at her. “I have a reservation for Echo Dean.”

She returns my smile. “You’re over here.”

She leads us to a table in the corner nearest the kitchen. Before I have time to sit, Tyler rushes around and pulls my chair out for me. My heart flutters.

I’m making the right decision with him. I know I am.

He sits opposite and rests his massive hands on the red-and-white checkered tablecloth.

“Here are your menus.” The waitress hands us each a laminated sheet. “Can I take your drink order?”

“I’ll have a sparkling grape juice, please,” I say.

Tyler requests a Diet Coke.

“I’ll be back in five minutes to take your order.” The waitress leaves.

Tyler looks around once again. “This seems like a nice place. Have you been before?”

“A few times.” I try to scan the menu, but the words all blur together. I’m too anxious to focus properly. Across from me, Tyler is having more success. “See anything you like?”

“It all looks good. What will you get?”

“Margherita, probably.” Considering I know I like it and I can’t concentrate on the menu enough to choose anything else.

“Classic.”

The waitress returns with our drinks and we both order. I get the margherita and Tyler asks for mushroom risotto, presumably because it’s the option that fits most closely into his meal plan.

“So…” I sip my sparkling grape juice, knowing it’s time to get to the point. “I’ve been thinking, and I’ve decided that I want to try a relationship between us again—if you’re still interested.”

His face lights up and he reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Interested isn’t the right word. I need you, Echo.”

I shoot him a look. It’s sweet, but he doesn’t need me, and we both know it. He just really, really wants me, and that’s flattering.

“We have to go slow,” I warn. “Like, very slow, and you have to share any secrets you’re keeping that are relevant to our relationship with me sooner rather than later. I’m not saying right this second, but soon. Can you do that?”

He squeezes my hand. “I’ll be a truthful tortoise. Promise.”

I giggle, his humor breaking the tension. “Thanks.”

“You deserve the best.”

I wet my lips, remembering the other thing I need to tell him. “Um, you’ll need to be patient with me about the physical stuff too. I know we’ve kinda crossed some lines there already, but I don’t know when I’ll be ready to go all the way. Or if I ever will.”

His expression creases with understanding, and I’m grateful for it. I couldn’t have handled pity.

“Baby, I’ve been waiting for you for years. I can wait a while longer. Even if there are some things you’re never ready for, I’ll be happy just to have you.”

---