Page 128 of Off Season

“He knows he’s welcome to fuck whoever he wants. I would never hold him back that way.”

“Do you think he is?”

I shrug. “Not my business.”

She raises her eyebrows, and I sigh. “Look, all I know is that before he left, he said he hadn’t touched anyone since he met me. That no one stirs his mind, dick, and funny bone like me. What has he been up to in Florida? I don’t know. I don’t ask.”

“Do you speak to him?”

I slowly nod. “He calls me every day. And…he said he’d wait for me to work through my issues.” I run my fingers through my hair. “But I don’t expect anything. He should do whatever makes him happy. I’ve told him as much.”

She gives a small, knowing smile. “Tell me about him.”

I can’t help the thrill that runs through me when I think about him. “He’s funny, hot, and sweet, but that’s honestly not what attracts me to him. Maybe it was at first, but that’s not why I’ve hung around him longer than I have for anyone since I was a teen. God help him, but he likes me exactly as I am. No matter how you slice it, I’m not normal and never will be. It doesn’t bother him. In fact, the weirdo gets off on it. I’m probably closer to him than I’ve been to a bedfellow in my entire life.” I mutter, “Definitely closer to him.”

“Then why are you reluctant?”

“Because I’m toxic. He’s a genuinely good man. Maybe the best I’ve ever met. He deserves better than me, but for some reason, he wants me. For now. One day he’ll want what all the princes want, and I’m not the princess who will ever dosomething she doesn’t want to do for a partner, man or woman.”

She thinks for a moment. “Have you ever taken the love language test?”

I let out a laugh at the memory. “Oddly enough, yes. Last year, my friends were all taking it and I did too.”

“Often our mosttoxic, as you called it, trait is the exact opposite of your love language.”

“How so?”

“Those who avoid intimacy are the ones who crave physical touch.”

I think about that. Physical touch was Arizona’s love language. Before Layton, she avoided men for over a year. Maybe Dr. Pearl is on to something.

She continues, “Those who have insecurities often like words of affirmation.”

Yep. That’s Ripley.

“What do you think my love language is?” I ask.

She taps her lower lip. “Hmm. I’m not a gambler, but if I were a betting woman, knowing how you like to handle things on your own and hate asking people for help, I’d wager that you crave simple acts of kindness. You’ve spent so much of your life taking care of your sister and yourself. And while she’s also taken care of you, you missed that in your mother. I imagine you’d be most attracted to someone who fills that role. Someone who cares enough and knows enough about you to give you what you need. I believe the test calls it acts of service.”

She’s one smart bitch.

She smiles in satisfaction. “I take it by your face that I’m right?”

I nod. “Yep. I can’t believe it.”

“Is that what this man gives you? Acts of service?”

I think about Cheetah and our past few months together. Suddenly it’s the easiest answer on the planet. “In every single thing he says and does.”

“He sounds like a keeper. It’s obvious you care about him.”

“I care enough to know that I won’t ever hold him back from anything. Ever.”

I’m studyinga case on my computer when I hear the front door open. Without looking up, I say, “Are you fucking kidding me, sending me those photos and then going radio silent? Did you jump out of a fucking airplane? Are you insane?”

I smile as I lift my head, expecting a little sass from Bailey, but am shocked to see her in tears. I leap from the sofa and take her into my arms. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

She collapses into me. “He had a vasectomy. He strung me along, making me feel hopeful about a future when there is none.”

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