Page 307 of As the Rain Falls
“I hate you!” Cassandra grits as I pull her towards me, my body shaking because of the giggles. “I really, really hate you!”
She lies down and molds her body against mine; her head fits perfectly against my chest. I tilt her chin up and kiss her forehead, tasting the salt of the ocean left on her skin.
I love it.
I love this.
I love us.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t even know anymore. I just really don’t like what just happened over there,” she mutters, frowning cutely. “You were all over her.”
“Mmnn.” I trace the soft lines of lips with my finger, fighting the urge to kiss them until they get all swollen against mine. “Is this really what happened?”
“Well, yes,” Cassandra promises, green eyes going round and beautiful. “I was watching you, you know.”
I scoff, listening to Angelina yelling Mateo’s name not so far from us. A few pigeons gathering around fly away as she does, her voice a strident sound that is scaring them off.
“I know I’m being silly.” Cassandra shyly intertwines our fingers together, and I kiss her knuckles just like I always do. “But I just kind of thought, well, you know.”
“No, Cass.”
I let out a short snort, understanding dawning on me that this is one of the things we might struggle with for a while. She has this habit of thinking I just know what’s in her head. I have to remind her that I don’t work like that.
“I don’t.”
She rolls her eyes at me, her face going all red and flushed.
“We had that talk in the car, and I thought—” Her eyes lock with mine, revealing some insecurity. “I thought that it meant that we kind of were into each otheronly. Like, exclusively.”
“We are.” I answer immediately.
Cassandra gives me a tiny, hopeful smile. It is the most beautiful thing in the world to me. “Really?”
“Yes,” I promise. “I was not that interested in what she had to say, actually.”
She glances at me, and I play with her hair, rolling it around my finger.
“The whole time I was thinking about you,” I speak quietly because it’s a secret.
“You don’t regret it?”
“Regret what exactly? Asking you out?” I shake my head. “No, baby. I don’t.”
“Really?” she asks again, like she can’t believe it. “I thought I was being too forward, and being so desperate again...”
“Desperate?” I wince, now feeling unsure about howI’mcoming across. “Cassandra, have I not reciprocated every single one of your advances so far?”
“But what if you were thinking something else?”
“Hey, listen. You really need to stop guessing,” I cut her off gently, not wanting her to keep going on making assumptions about me. “What you see is exactly what you get, okay? We’re taking things slow and spending time together. I’m not planning on seeing anybody else but you.”
I’m not thinking about anyone else, or planning anything else. I don’t have second thoughts. I don’t have hidden meanings behind my words. In fact, it really pisses me off how other people often do.
Do they not know that I have to spend half of my time going above and beyond just to figure out if they really want to hang out? Or if the coffee was really to their taste?
“But I need to be certain.” She presses her lips together, trying to find ways to explain herself to me. “I feel like if you don’t say it, I start to get in my head.”
