Page 90 of Tough Nut to Crack

He looks like a beaten puppy as he rounds the end of the sofa and takes a seat right beside me, so close that our knees are touching.

"I have a million things running through my head with what that look on your face could mean, but instead of jumping to conclusions, I'm just going to sit here and let you explain it to me." He pulls in a deep breath. "And when you do, explain it like a three-year-old. I don't want any crossed lines or chance for misinterpretation."

"You've given me a lot to think about."

"Maybe take a chance and don't overanalyze anything. Just tell me how you feel," he urges.

"I feel exhausted with not knowing what this is between us."

I hold up a hand to silence him when he opens his mouth to speak.

"If we're laying it all out there, then let me speak."

I release a long, slow breath. Honesty is great. Telling the truth is great, but sometimes, in doing so, you discover things you don't want to know, things that prevent you from pretending everything is fine when it really isn't, but I've lost too much sleep. If things don't work out between the two of us, then I'd like to know that now so I can start the process of moving forward.

He has told me he finds me attractive, and that's wonderful, but that doesn't mean he wants me forever or even wants to attempt to build a life with me.

"I pined for you the rest of that summer. I just knew when the school year started, I was going to be yours. I tried to catch you at the park. I can't count the number of times I drove past your house, hoping to catch you outside. I didn't feel assaulted. When school started back up and you couldn't even look in my direction, I felt like I'd been pranked. I felt like the punchline of a joke between you and your friends."

I pause, needing a moment because my voice is growing weakwith emotion.

"I had written your name a million times in my notebooks and drawn big red hearts around it."

My cheeks heat with the girly confession.

"I convinced myself that even if you came to me and wanted a secret relationship because you were embarrassed about my size, I liked you enough that I would've been okay with it."

"There's nothing okay about that," he mutters.

"I know that now, but it took years of therapy to get there."

"You had to go to therapy?"

I shrug. "All of us could use a little therapy."

"Riley, that's—"

"I thought I was going to need to make another appointment in the bar weeks ago when you pretended like you'd never laid eyes on me before. My brain couldn't handle the fact that you were such a big part of my teenage years, and I didn't mean anything to you."

"You've always meant something to me, Riley."

I give him a weak smile. Saying it now doesn't change how it made me feel back then, and I have a right to those emotions, no matter what his intentions or reasons for ignoring me were.

"Then you asked me to get out of there, and I was sixteen again, being paid attention by the hottest guy in the bar. We had a great night."

"The best," he interjects.

"Then you pulled that shit by asking me if I wanted a cab or to walk home," I remind him.

"It seems I've always been an asshole," he mutters.

"Why did you do it?" I ask, needing to know the answer.

"I was feeling more for you than I should've after only an hour of your time. I felt vulnerable, and if I made you mad, then I didn't have to deal with my own feelings."

"That's... honest," I mutter. "But then you called me to help with the meal for the McGees, and then I nearly burned down your house."

"I take full responsibility for that," he rushes to say. "And I owe you an apology for getting mad. I was mad at myself for not being able to control the way my body responds to yours. It put me right back in that closet, touching you without permission."

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