Page 104 of Dirty Pucker

Emotion flashes in her eyes as she gently holds my face in her hands. “Listen to me. You didn’t fail at anything, Del. You were a little kid in a horrible situation and you did the best you could at the time. There was nothing you could have done differently that would have made it better.”

Tears burn my eyes. I start to shake my head, but Ingrid stops me, holding my face in place.

“No. Listen. Please, listen. You didn’t fail. None of what happened was your fault, Del. You were the perfect son. Just like you are now.”

I take in the intensity of Ingrid’s stare and the firmness in her tone. She’s telling me the truth. She’s saying all this because she believes it—because it’s true.

That angry, helpless feeling dials back. Warmth pools in my chest.

“Please believe it,” she says, her voice soft and shaky.

I believe her.

For the first time in my life, I believe that I did everything I could to help my mom as a kid.

“I believe it,” I finally say.

That tightness in my chest starts to loosen. It’s been years of holding on to that guilt and anger. I know it won’t go away overnight, but hearing Ingrid say that it’s not my fault, that I did my best, gives me a sense of peace I didn’t know I needed.

Emotion bubbles up inside of me once more. But this time, there’s no anger simmering underneath it. All I feel is affection for this incredible woman.

I kiss her slowly and softly. I grip her body, pulling her close. I need her close to me.

I just need her.

When we break apart, she rests her forehead against mine.

“Thank you for telling me that,” she says.

“Thank you for listening,” I say.

I feel emotionally wrung out talking about all that, but in a good way. Like when I finish a brutal workout. My body is wrecked, but I know it’s good for me. I know I’ll heal and recover and be stronger than I was before.

She hugs her arms around me tighter. “Do you want to go to bed?” she asks after a quiet minute of hugging.

“I’d like that.”

I help her off the counter. We leave the dishes in the sink and walk down the hall to her bathroom. Together we brush our teeth and wash up. I follow her as she walks to her bed. We strip off our clothes and climb in.

When we’re settled under the covers, I slide my arms around her and hug her into my chest. She sinks into me and moans softly. I kiss the top of her head and close my eyes. Comfort and warmth course through me.

It’s heaven falling asleep next to this woman. This woman who listened patiently as I opened up about the deepest parts of myself. This woman who went out of her way to help my mom. This woman who broke through my deepest shame and helped me realize that I’m still good. That I’m still worthy.

This woman who I can’t stop thinking about, who makes my heart race in a way it never has.

As I drift to sleep, there’s no denying it: I’m falling hard for Ingrid.

Chapter 36

Ingrid

“Oh my god. I look like Swamp Thing,” Maya says. She bursts out laughing as she looks at her reflection in the mirrored wall of the spa treatment room we’re in.

I cover my mouth with a mud-caked hand as I try to contain my laughter.

I look at her and shrug. “Maya babes, we all look like Swamp Thing.” I pat more mud onto my shoulder.

Dakota, Sophie, Maya, and I are in a massive spa grotto with a mud pool at the high-end resort we’re staying at in Cabo San Lucas. It’s a bye week for the Bashers, so all of us along with Xander, Theo, Blomdahl, Sam, and Del traveled here to unwind and blow off some steam for a few days.

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