Page 36 of Bleeding Hearts

I laugh at her excitement. “I just don’t think it’s gonna happen, Lo.”

She sighs. “I just don’t understand why not. You guys are so good together.”

“We’re good together as friends. That doesn’t mean we’d be good together in a relationship.”

“How do you know if you never try?”

“And risk ruining the friendship?”

“That’s your only reason for not trying? Fear?”

“It’s not fear. It’s just that I care about him and don’t want to lose him. It’s called self-preservation. Plus, that’s not the only reason. He also doesn’t do relationships. He’s a fuckboy, you know that. And he has way more experience than me.” I shrug.

“Just because he hasn’t had any serious relationships since you’ve known him doesn’t mean he’s incapable of one. And according to Kade, I don’t think he’s actually fucked around with anyone in a while. As for being more experienced, who cares about that, Dem?”

“I do.” I sigh.

“You shouldn’t. Your past is your past, just as Asher’s is his. That shouldn’t affect your future. I’m not sure what’s holding him back, but I know the fear that’s holding you back.” She pauses. “You spent the majority of your life living in fear of your father. You pretended not to be scared, you pretended it was all okay, and now you view fear as a weakness rather than a strength. Fear means that you’re alive. It’s okay to be scared, Dem. Just give him a chance to prove to you that you don’t have to be.”

I know that she’s right about me. Most children spend their childhood scared of the monsters under the bed. Except my monster didn’t hide under my bed, he tucked me in at night.

I spent years afraid until I decided he didn’t deserve my fear. I pushed it all down. I never let him see the way he affected me.

That doesn’t mean it disappeared.

It’s still there. In the small flinch of my body when a stranger touches me or the way I lose my breath for a second when someone comes up behind me without my notice.

It’s there every time someone around me gets angry, and I have to fight the urge to shut down. He caused that. I hate that I can’t be scared without associating it with him.

There’s also the fact that Asher doesn’t know anything about my past. I think that’s where part of the fear comes from too.

One of the things I love about Asher is that he looks at me like I could do anything. Be anything. What if he starts to look at me like I’m made of glass instead of being strong and invincible?

I’ve proved to myself enough over the years that I’m not. I still have moments where it makes me feel weak, but I’m also able to recognize my strength. I just don’t want him to look at me differently.

Even thinking about it, I know it’s a shit excuse. I know Asher wouldn’t look at me differently. It's one of the reasons I like him so much.

Asher isn’t a judgy person; he’s caring and kind. When I’m stressed or sad, he doesn’t coddle me but does everything he can to support me and always goes out of his way to make me smile.

He does it often with those stupid nicknames.

He thinks I don’t know what he’s doing when he calls me all the crazy nicknames that he comes up with, but I do. He wants to make me smile. He wants to make me happy.

I pretend to hate it, but secretly every time one of the cringey nicknames falls from his lips, I feel my heart squeeze. Not because it’s a cute term of endearment, quite the opposite, but because it shows he cares.

I know nothing I ever tell him would change that, so I say the next excuse that pops into my head.

“We’ve been friends for over half a year, and he’s never tried to make a move. I just don’t think he’s interested.”

“Have you ever given him any indication that you want him to?” she asks.

“Well, I guess not.” I pinch my brows together. “Not intentionally at least, but you know how I am. It’s definitely possible he’s picked up on it.”

“And has he ever given you any indication that he wants to make a move? Or maybe that he wants you to?”

“I mean, not really.” I think back to one of the first times I was truly alone with him after the barbecue. When he was trying to prove to me that he was good at flirting. I think back to the way he looked at me as he called me beautiful. But that was fake, right? Just for show. “I don’t think so.” I decide.

“Maybe you’re right and he does just want to be friends. Or maybe he’s stuck in the same confused, scared territory as you and the two of you should just talk to each other?” She smiles at me softly.

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