"You look terrible," she said, staring out at the view.
"You stopped talking to me, so," I said, as though it was obvious that I'd fall apart completely without her.
She took her phone out of her pocket, held it out in front of us, laid her head down on my shoulder and took a selfie.
"It may not be perfect, but I want to remember today. I want to remember that you came for me, even though you had every right not to," she said, before getting back on her feet.
A few hours later, we were in the car again. She'd given me the address for a hotel, but I was taking her home with me instead.
Seeing her tear up again, my mouth started moving on its own and this time I wasn't talking about Vogue.
"When I was eighteen, my father would cheat on my mother, knowing I was nearby. Who knows what the fuck he was thinking really, but I think he did it so that I would tell on him. The worst part was he did it by pretending he was interested in me. Overnight, he was attending my boxing matches. He started driving me to school. Helping with my homework. Making it seem like he wanted to hang out when in fact he just wanted someone to tell his wife he was leaving her instead of doing it himself."
By the time I finished telling her the story, we had reached my apartment building.
"I'm sorry, I don't know why I just told you that," I said, staring at the steering wheel. "You still have your key, right? I should probably get to work."
I didn't know if telling her the worst thing that had ever happened to me made her feel any better about the way I learned about her mom. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. When she got out of the car without a word though, I wasn't so sure anymore. Now I was back on the road, thinking of her having to deal with everything all alone.
"Shit. I'm so going to get fired," I said, turning the car around.
For some bizarre reason, I knocked when I got to my apartment. She opened the door, staring at me blankly.
"This isn't where you work anymore," she said, cocking her head and cracking a small smile.
"I'm sorry for dumping all that crap on you about my dad. And also for freaking out about Luca and his many gifts. I know what it looks like when someone's around you because they want something from you and not because they care. I could tell Jenny wasn't into hanging out with you and I wasn't okay with that, because while you may not be obsessed with me, I am very much obsessed with you. So I asked her a bunch of questions and tried to figure out what her deal was. Nothing else was going on, not from my side. I'd never do that to you, Stace. I hurt when you hurt. Also I hate Luca. I hate what he represents. I hate thinking that anyone could ever take you from me," I said, taking a deep breath after my passionate speech.
I watched her face throughout, contemplating turning around to walk away the whole time. The morning had been a lot for her. Maybe I was wrong to think she wanted company and she could use some alone time.
Just as I was about to walk away, she held the door open for me. Then she took my hand and dragged me into the apartment.
We each took a seat on the couch, turning to face each other.
"Your dad's an asshole. Don't let him stop you from letting people in. People like me, Kenny and Willow. We need you. I need you. Jenny may have blindsided me, but I'm definitely not interested in Luca. Permission to hate him all you want, but it's unnecessary. I don't want to marry a man like my father. I'm sort of homeless now, so you won't be getting rid of me anytime soon. I'm going to crash here for a while," she said, telling me instead of asking.
I nodded my consent with a smile anyway, more than happy to have her around all the time instead of not at all. She moved to get up. I took her hand and stopped her.
My heart was in my throat. This had been the shittiest day and yet, I had spent it with her, which made it infinitely better than the rest of the week. I was an idiot and a coward for asking her this now. I should have just let her go, but I wasn't in control. The words just slipped out.
"What kind of guy do you want?" I asked, looking deep into her icy blues.
She sat back down.
"Scott Brady, are you sure you're ready to hear the answer?" she asked, turning to me again.
I took the strands of hair framing her face between my fingers and tucked them behind her ears.
"I'm sure," I said, my eyes dropping to her lips as I held her face in my hands.
At that moment, I was sure. Tomorrow didn't matter nearly as much as the moment we were sharing.
As though reading my mind, instead of speaking, her eyes closed and she laid her lips on mine.
"This one's not platonic," she said, our lips moving together as we drew closer to each other.
The interaction was so delicate and gentle, I almost didn't dare breathe as she let me slide my hands down her back and onto her hips.
"And it's going to get even less platonic unless you leave," she said, her fingers gliding through the strands of my hair as she gave me an out.
The little voice in my head told me to leave her the hell alone. To be afraid of losing her. I buried it further and further in the depths of my consciousness as I lowered her down onto the couch. My body needed hers. Not even reason could make me deny that.
"Then I guess I'm staying," I said, feeling like I couldn't get close enough
to her as my body descended on hers and our lips locked again.