Page 66 of Dreaming of Dawson

He’s not gonna let this go. Which I guess means I’m gonna have to tell him… and hope for the best. Whatever that is.

“When I ran last night,” I whisper, letting out a sigh, “it was because I wanted you to say something like that when you were sober.”

“Okay.” He nods his head. “I can understand that. You probably thought it was the vodka talking, and not me. Except it was me, and it’s still me, and you really are fucking beautiful, Macy Potter.”

How can I not want him when he says things like that? How can I not love him?

Because it’ll hurt like hell when it all goes wrong.

Is that a reason not to love?

Yes!

I stare up at him, unable to speak, and eventually he solves that problem and murmurs, “What about this morning?”

“That was embarrassment.”

He nods his head. “Because of what I’d said last night, or because we were standing outside the bathroom, and I wasn’t wearing very much?”

“A little of both, I guess.”

At least he hasn’t mentioned his obvious arousal, which is a relief. This is difficult enough as it is.

“And just now?” he asks. “Why did you run back here?”

“B—Because no matter how much I like you…”or love you…“this is a really bad idea.”

“You said that already, but who’s it a bad idea for?” he asks.

“Us.”

“Why? Is this something to do with my past? With Stevie?”

I shrug my shoulders, wondering if he’s just gifted me a way out of having to explain. “Maybe,” I say.

“You don’t think I’m over her, do you?”

“Do you blame me?” I feel so dishonest. These are my uncertainties, not his, but how can I tell him that?

“No,” he says. “We’ve spent a lot of time talking about her and what she did, and how I felt about it. It’s hardly surprising that you’d think I’m still hung up on her.”

I feel like we’ve already covered this, several times over. But I need to know, once and for all. “Are you?” I ask.

He shakes his head slowly from side to side. “No, I’m not. I know this is gonna sound odd, considering what I’ve been doingto myself for the last couple of years, but I think I’ve been over her since the day she walked out.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. Like I’ve said before, my pride was hurt that she chose someone else over me, but the biggest problem was accepting that I wasn’t good enough for her… or anyone else.”

It’s my turn to shake my head and I grip his arm a little tighter, not that he seems to notice. “You know that’s bullshit, don’t you?”

His smile surprises me. “I do now,” he says, moving closer. Our bodies are almost touching and I stutter out a breath, feeling it mingle with his as he leans in a little. “I—I’d really like the chance to prove to both of us that I’m enough for you,” he says, and closes the gap between us, his lips touching mine in the gentlest of kisses.

I’ve barely had the chance to get used to the softness of his lips, or his hand on my waist, when he pulls back, and I gaze up at him.

“Y—You are,” I whisper, because it needs to be said… although I have to qualify that statement before I get carried away with myself. “Or you would be.”

“Wouldbe? Is there something stopping me?” he asks. He hasn’t let me go, and to be honest, I don’t want him to, even though I know he’ll have to.

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