“So, it was a relationship built on honesty.” My lip breaks free into a grin. “How could it have gone wrong?”
“Personally, I blame prom.”
“You chose a pinned corsage, didn’t you?” I say teasingly, shaking my head. “Why do boys never understand that we want the one that goes around our wrists?”
“Robby Stillwell bought the corsage.” He bends his knee to distribute the weight of his body against the hard floor. It brushes against mine, making my skin tingle beneath the shorts I’ve changed into to paint. “He could go to a dance filled with people who grew up watching Family Fun without worrying. Just like he could go to football games and parties and everything else a teenage girl wants her boyfriend to be able to do.”
“Things you couldn’t do,” I say softly.
He nods against his arm. “Naturally, she broke up with me.”
“For him?”
“I guess. I suppose that sounds better than admitting I couldn’t compete with all the other things high school had to offer.”
It’s a feeling I can relate all too well with. When I was growing up, there was always something better out in the world for the men who came into my life. A better woman. A better daughter. A better home to settle in. It didn’t matter how tirelessly my mom and I strived to present ourselves perfectly, we couldn’t compete with all the better things the world had to offer.
“And that’s it?” I ask the question with a bravado I don’t feel. My greatest fear is that it is it. That, just like my mother, I’ll never have a problem attracting men. But if they stay around long enough, they’ll eventually get a peek below the surface, and their disappointment will always send them running away. “It didn’t work out, so you’ve given up on love?”
“I haven’t given up on love.” For the first time since I met him, he looks genuinely offended. “I love you. I love Mac and Phoebe and Simone. I love my parents. I even love Booker, lazy as he is.”
I blink in the face of such fervor from him. But that’s not what’s rendered me speechless. It’s the fact that Lucas Deiss has just said he loves me. To my face. And I know it wasn’t a romantic declaration, but my stomach feels like someone has strung it up with twinkle lights.
“I wasn’t devastated that Catherine broke up with me,” he says, seemingly unaware of the way his words have affected me. “It was the fact that I lost her. She was the only friend I had. It never even occurred to me that I was risking that by becoming her boyfriend. I stupidly assumed it would make us closer. But relationships aren’t like friendships.”
He looks at me for some sign of understanding, but I shake my head. “Are you talking about sex?”
He squints at me. “No, Liv. I’m talking about the fact that friendships aren’t declared. They just happen. But a relationship is decided upon. Two people agree that they want each other for a finite period of time. At any point, they’re allowed to change their mind.” He snaps his fingers, the sound cracking through the room. “No harm, no foul. All memories together are invalidated. They might as well have taken place with a stranger. Doesn’t that seem crazy to you? Why would anyone choose to invest their time and emotion into something that tenuous?”
“But friendships can end, too.” I don’t know why I’m arguing with him. The truth is, what he’s saying makes sense. If I could go back to every night I’ve ever wasted on an ex and spend it with my friends instead, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
“Can they? That’s not my experience. It’s been twenty years since I worked with the crew of Family Fun, but I could call up any one of them and reminisce on the good times we had. If I tried that with Catherine, she’d assume I wanted to rekindle things. Or she’d have a boyfriend or husband who’d take offense.”
The doorbell rings, and Deiss sits up straight, shoulders straining against his t-shirt. He uses his hands to push off the floor and heads toward the door.
“I’m right,” he says, his voice trailing behind him. “You know I am. You can’t go backward once you’ve seen someone naked.”
My mind jerks back to the feel of Deiss’s mouth on mine, and I sit up to escape it. It doesn’t count, I know it doesn’t—that night was so crazy it’s easy to believe it was all just a dream—but I can’t help wondering what would’ve happened if Deiss hadn’t curtailed the moment with his secret. I clearly wasn’t capable of resisting him. What if it had gone further?