do with you how I feel about
you. I promise you that. I don’t want you to ever say or think that
you aren’t good enough. You are. You’re more than good enough. I
don’t deserve you, but I’m not willing to let you go.” I look
up into eyes filled with sincerity.
“You can tell me
anything. Can you tell me about those things? I-I care about you,
Scott. I now we haven’t known each other long, but I do care about
you.”
“I care about you,
too. But, I don’t know if I can tell you. It’s so hard for me to
think about, I don’t know if I can say the words out loud. I’m
sorry. Can you be patient with me while I try to work my shit out?”
“I can try. But I
don’t want to be dating you for a year and not be allowed in your
house.”
“A year. You can see
us a year from now?” He smiles at me.
“Yeah, I think I
can,” I reply honestly.
“Me too,” he tells
me. “Now, I better go or I am going to make sure neither of us
leaves the house today. He kisses me lightly and then scoops up his
clothes from the floor and dresses quickly. “So, tonight?”
“Yeah. I’ll see you
tonight.” As he leaves, I realize that he never said that he would
be letting me into his house a year from now. I can be patient but I do have my limits.
* * *
Scott
I pull up to my house
and get out of the car.
“Well look who made
it home,” Owen says, walking out the front door of the main house.
“Good to see you back in the saddle, bro.”
I flip him off and walk
around to the backyard and my place. I go inside and head up to take
a shower. While I’m soaping up, I think about Yas.
Not in a sexual way,
though. I think about her crying because I wouldn’t let her come
here. I did that to her. I know I’m normally a bastard to girls but
I don’t want to be like that to her. How can I tell her about
Amber, though? She won’t look at me the same. Even as I tell myself
that, a part of me shouts that that’s bullshit. I think she would
still like me—care about me if she knew what happened. My brothers
and my parents have said that I need to forgive myself because they
don’t blame me. I think that Yasmin could help me with that. She
comforts me just by her presence. I know that I have to tell her if I
want to save whatever this is that I have with her. I still don’t
think that I can say the words to her. Then it comes to me. I don’t
have to say the words
in order to tell her. I can write them.
I get out of the shower
and towel off then throw on a t-shirt and shorts. I go downstairs to
sit at my desk and start to write. It’s not easy, but it’s not as
hard as I thought it would be either. Once I’m done, I feel a
little lighter. I grab my keys and head out the door to set up the
next delivery to the bookstore.
* * *
Yasmin
I’m going to have to
make some hard decisions soon. The online business is helping the
store but I don’t know how much longer I can keep all three
employees on. It’s starting to wear on me and I don’t know what
to do. We have such loyal customers who shop as much as they can, but
new business isn’t coming in. I’ve called every publicist I know
and even some I don’t but as much as I begged, they couldn’t send
me a big author for an event. Some of them were apologetic, telling
me that they just couldn’t send someone big to a small store.
Others dismissed me when they heard me say “Las Vegas.” I wanted
to scream at them and say that Vegas is not all about The Strip and
showgirls. We have a thriving reading community here. I wish that
they would take a chance on me, but I understand. They have their
bottom line too.
“Hey Yasmin,” Sean
says to me as he walks into the store. “Is Erika around?”
“Yes, she is. Let me
call her for you,” I tell him with a smile and a wink.
I call Erika out from
the stockroom and a glowing smile takes over her face when she sees
Sean. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he says back
and then adds, “I was wondering if you were free for
you. I promise you that. I don’t want you to ever say or think that
you aren’t good enough. You are. You’re more than good enough. I
don’t deserve you, but I’m not willing to let you go.” I look
up into eyes filled with sincerity.
“You can tell me
anything. Can you tell me about those things? I-I care about you,
Scott. I now we haven’t known each other long, but I do care about
you.”
“I care about you,
too. But, I don’t know if I can tell you. It’s so hard for me to
think about, I don’t know if I can say the words out loud. I’m
sorry. Can you be patient with me while I try to work my shit out?”
“I can try. But I
don’t want to be dating you for a year and not be allowed in your
house.”
“A year. You can see
us a year from now?” He smiles at me.
“Yeah, I think I
can,” I reply honestly.
“Me too,” he tells
me. “Now, I better go or I am going to make sure neither of us
leaves the house today. He kisses me lightly and then scoops up his
clothes from the floor and dresses quickly. “So, tonight?”
“Yeah. I’ll see you
tonight.” As he leaves, I realize that he never said that he would
be letting me into his house a year from now. I can be patient but I do have my limits.
* * *
Scott
I pull up to my house
and get out of the car.
“Well look who made
it home,” Owen says, walking out the front door of the main house.
“Good to see you back in the saddle, bro.”
I flip him off and walk
around to the backyard and my place. I go inside and head up to take
a shower. While I’m soaping up, I think about Yas.
Not in a sexual way,
though. I think about her crying because I wouldn’t let her come
here. I did that to her. I know I’m normally a bastard to girls but
I don’t want to be like that to her. How can I tell her about
Amber, though? She won’t look at me the same. Even as I tell myself
that, a part of me shouts that that’s bullshit. I think she would
still like me—care about me if she knew what happened. My brothers
and my parents have said that I need to forgive myself because they
don’t blame me. I think that Yasmin could help me with that. She
comforts me just by her presence. I know that I have to tell her if I
want to save whatever this is that I have with her. I still don’t
think that I can say the words to her. Then it comes to me. I don’t
have to say the words
in order to tell her. I can write them.
I get out of the shower
and towel off then throw on a t-shirt and shorts. I go downstairs to
sit at my desk and start to write. It’s not easy, but it’s not as
hard as I thought it would be either. Once I’m done, I feel a
little lighter. I grab my keys and head out the door to set up the
next delivery to the bookstore.
* * *
Yasmin
I’m going to have to
make some hard decisions soon. The online business is helping the
store but I don’t know how much longer I can keep all three
employees on. It’s starting to wear on me and I don’t know what
to do. We have such loyal customers who shop as much as they can, but
new business isn’t coming in. I’ve called every publicist I know
and even some I don’t but as much as I begged, they couldn’t send
me a big author for an event. Some of them were apologetic, telling
me that they just couldn’t send someone big to a small store.
Others dismissed me when they heard me say “Las Vegas.” I wanted
to scream at them and say that Vegas is not all about The Strip and
showgirls. We have a thriving reading community here. I wish that
they would take a chance on me, but I understand. They have their
bottom line too.
“Hey Yasmin,” Sean
says to me as he walks into the store. “Is Erika around?”
“Yes, she is. Let me
call her for you,” I tell him with a smile and a wink.
I call Erika out from
the stockroom and a glowing smile takes over her face when she sees
Sean. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he says back
and then adds, “I was wondering if you were free for
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