Page 42 of Winning You
“I mean, I know you deal with a lot of shit from people. You’ve always been unapologetically yourself, and when others aren’t used to embracing who they are, they don’t like being reminded about it. And they meet someone like you, who hasweighed giving a shit against your own comfort, and comfort has always won.”
Lucas felt a little pang in his chest. That was exactly how he felt, but no one had ever put it into words like that. “Sometimes it’s lonely.”
“I know.” The car rolled to a stop, and he heard Dallas put it in park. “I know it really, really sucks to hear this, but people start caring less the older you get.”
“Yeah.” Lucas did know that. Apart from Gage, who was the only guy in his age bracket who didn’t treat him like he should stuff himself into some kind of neurotypical box for the comfort of others, the only ones who didn’t treat him like a weirdo were the older people in his life. He licked his lips, then turned to face his uncle. “Do I…am I…” He fought to find the right words. “Objectively, am I weird-looking?”
“Lucas…”
“I’m being serious. I can’t ask my dad. He’s biased, and even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t tell me the truth. Neither will Gage. I know that even people who aren’t…what’s that word? Conventionally attractive?” Yet another concept Lucas had never personally understood.
“Yeah,” Dallas said slowly.
“Those people find love too. It’s not always about how someone looks, even with people who can see. But I do know that makes it easier. Just like being non-disabled is easier. Gage has to fight people off with sticks. I can’t even get a crush on a guy without overhearing him call me the freaking r-word to his friends.”
“I’m sorry, who did what?”
“It’s not important,” Lucas said. He didn’t want to think about Oliver. “It’s just…I’m never really going to know. I’ll never be able to look in a mirror and figure it out for myself. And Ithink it might set my expectations a little better if someone was honest with me.”
“Okay,” Dallas said slowly. Then he said nothing at all.
Lucas groaned. “I’m asking you, okay? Objectively, am I ugly.”
Sucking in a lungful of air, Dallas let it out on a sigh. “No, Lucas. You’re not ugly. I’m obviously as biased as your dad, but I think there have been more people interested than you realize.”
“How would I not notice?” Lucas asked. That couldn’t be possible.
Dallas chuckled. “Because you weren’t into them. And if you’re not interested in something, you don’t always pay close attention.”
“I—” Well, shit. That was so beyond fair. He sagged back in the seat and pressed his fingertips to his cheeks. “I’m pretty?”
Dallas laughed again, but not in a mocking way. “Yes. Annoyingly pretty. Like your dad was when he was your age, and I hated him for it because everyone I had a crush on had a crush on him.”
Lucas snorted. “Gross.”
“Yeah, yeah. But it was true.” Lucas tried not to flinch when Dallas touched his shoulder, though he hated when it came out of nowhere. “Anyway, you want me to walk you to the truck?”
“Just point me in the right direction,” Lucas said. More than anything, he wanted to get to work so he could hopefully distract himself from all the weird, confusing feelings he couldn’t seem to shake.
Lucas didn’t mind getting rides from friends and family up to and until he was doing something he didn’t want to be judgedfor. And he was pretty sure grocery shopping so he could cook for the neighbor he was lusting after was one of those judgy moments.
And then there was Uber.
“I’ll stay in the area,” the driver told him. Lucas couldn’t remember his name. There were too many things actively in his head right then. “Just put the ride request in the app, and I’ll come back.”
That was either nice or creepy, and he wasn’t in the mood to work out which was which, so instead he put his thumb up toward the guy, then made his way to the store.
It was a small market—on the expensive side, but they knew him there, and no one ever acted like he was asking them to set their own face on fire when he requested a sighted shopper. His cane found the edge of the counter, and then he touched the top and turned his head to see if he could hear someone in front of him, but it was quiet.
He was trying to be patient, but the end-of-the-day line at his truck had gotten long, and he didn’t get to close up until well past five. The last time he’d checked his phone, it told him it was nearly six, which meant he was going to be late—very late—for Frankie.
He didn’t think the man would mind if he took his time putting food together, but that was not the impression he was trying to make. How the hell was he going to look like a mature, responsible adult worthy of someone Frankie’s age if he couldn’t even keep his appointments?
His breath started to come a little faster.
“Lucas?”
He spun at the sound of a familiar voice and almost lost his footing as his cane top caught on the lip of the counter. “Fuck. Sorry. Hi. Kristen?”
