Page 60 of Can't Take My Eyes Off You

Fuck, uh, where ya going with this, Berx?

‘You always had the power to make me feel like everything’s somehow OK even when it wasn’t.’

Jesus criminy, I ambadat this making him pay game. As his gaze softens with my words, my speech gets slower as my heart takes over, taking complete advantage of my head going suddenly fuzzy. His face softens as he listens to me.

Ten minutes of me spouting nonsense his way and him protesting only a little, the room suddenly shifts under my feet. I reach out to stabilize myself with the bar top, but I grab Will’s forearm instead.

‘You alright?’ he asks, standing from his barstool, ready to either hold me up or help me to the bathroom. ‘What are we doing here, Berx?’ He’s clearly worried, judging by his tone.

‘Bathroom,’ I say, taking a single step towards the door a dozen feet from us before the floor drops out from underneath me.

Without saying a word, he reads the signs and whisks me into the ladies’ room, pushing into a stall, getting me there just in time. He’s kneeling behind me, gathering my hair into his hand while I humiliate myself and yak way more tequila than I remember drinking into the throne.

When it’s over, I sit back onto my heels, knocking him into the wall next to us, and fall into his lap. I rest my head on his shoulder, my forehead tucked into the hollow of his neck.

‘If I could move, I would, but if I do, I’ll puke again, and I feel like I’ve embarrassed myself about as much as I’m willing to tonight.’

‘You don’t need to move anywhere. This is the only place I want to be.’

‘Since.When?’

‘I needed to become the man you deserve, Berx. I’d lost him.’

‘The man I deserve. Could you have takenlonger? Now look at the mess you’ve caused.’

‘I take full responsibility. That’s why I’m here, to fix things.’

I notice ink on his left inner forearm as his hand rests on my knee. I’ve wondered about this for months. I grab his hand, lifting his arm to read it.

‘This is…my name?’ I run my fingers over the scrolling ink, tracing the black letters. This is my name.

‘I know they say tattooing someone’s name is a bad decision but you’re sitting in my lap right now after not seeing you in what feels like forever. So, I call bullshit on that.’

‘Why would you do this?’

He adjusts himself underneath me, careful he doesn’t jostle me too much, his hand coming to a rest on my lower back, encouraging me to lean into him. This is the first time I’ve felt like I could relax into someone in a long time.

‘I wanted you to know I’m yours.’

‘You’remine?’ I’m so confused. ‘I hope you know I’m going to have a lot to say about this when I can think straight.’

‘Honestly, I’m looking forward to it.’ I can hear the smirk on his face.

‘You’re looking forward to fighting with me later?’

‘Fighting is talking. I’d be more worried if you had nothing to say. I’ve messed up a lot, Berx. For years. When we’d fight, I’d get scared I’d never see you again, so I took whatever I could.’

We’re silent for a few moments while I think about this.

‘Took whatever you could and only gave back the minimum required of you. You’re kind of a selfish bastard for that.’

‘I am and I apologize, sincerely. I loved you selfishly for too long.’

‘What is happening?’ I ask. ‘You’re taking responsibility? Not blaming your parents, your asshole friends, or whatever stupid fucking contract you’ve signed?’

‘I and I alone fucked this up. I’m taking responsibility for all of it.’

I don’t know what to say to that. Suddenly, I heave. That seems right. I lean towards the toilet until it passes, then I relax back into him. Why must he feel like home even while we sit on the floor of a public bathroom stall?

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