Chapter 24
twenty-four
Mateo
Fuck. I’m such an asshole. I have to make this right.
Do I comfort her? Apologize to her? Tell her I can’t believe I didn’t know even a little of this?
When her tears have slowed and she gives me permission, I lean back to look her in the eye. “Of course you hated me. I was a jerk. Of course that ‘joke’ isn’t funny. I should never have said it.”
Her lips twitch, like she’s fighting the urge to say “no shit.”
I lightly stroke at the curl that keeps springing back in front of her face as we talk.
“There’s something more important that I need to check on, though.” My hands shake as I lower them, feeling like I should move away, give her space.
But she grasps my hands and laces her fingers with mine.
“The first time we were together…” My voice quivers as I ask a question that could change everything. “You’d been drinking. I didn’t think you were too drunk to consent, but… You did want to be with me, right?”
My heart lurches. I need her to respond, even if it’s to tell me how badly I fucked up.
I loosen my grip. This way, if she wants to take her hands back, she can. Instead, she squeezes tighter and meets my eyes. Our height difference is her advantage right now.
“You mean the wedding weekend? Where I went to your hotel room and took off my own dress? That was my choice. It was a choice that tequila may have helped make, but it was mine.”
Her answer eases only a little of my tension.
“From now on, I won’t touch you unless you’re sober. Or unless you storm into my house wearing something like you did the other night.” I crack a smile, hoping to settle my anxiety and hers.
“I knew the improv king would appreciate a movie moment,” she teases.
My chest lightens. “Life with you has been a bit of a rom-com, if you think about it.”
“You know the way those go, right?” she says. “Every one of the heroines I looked up to when I was a teen started out nerdy. The story is always the same. The nerdy girl gets a makeover, and then bam! She gets a boyfriend.”
“Not all of them,” I argue, guiding her along the aisle of trees again.
It’s easier to talk while I’m moving. “Take basically all of Lindsay Lohan’s movies,” I counter.
“In Freaky Friday a wild child learns that she’s perfect as she is.
In Mean Girls the new kid at school learns that popularity and boys aren’t worth the price. ”
“Okay,” she relents. “I’ll give you those, I guess?—”.
“You’re Olive from Easy-A ! I know that’s Emma Stone, but listen to me: she lies, she fakes a reputation because she wants to help people , even if it means she gets hurt. Oh. My. God. You’re Olive.” I release her hand to pump my fist and jog backward so she can’t look away.
“Excuse me?”
“You let some guys talk a big game. Say things about you that weren’t true. You didn’t fight for your reputation. You?—”
“I used it to my advantage and disappeared behind it,” she says, with a beleaguered sigh.
I turn back to walk in step with her, worrying my lip. I mentioned that my side of the story looked different. It’s probably time to put it out there.
“While you were dealing with those rumors,” I say, my chest tightening. “I was battling my own fallout from our verbal sparring.”
This drains the levity from our conversation, pulling us up short. As I catalog her eyes, the way her lips turn down, I worry this isn’t the right moment. She’s still so defeated. But if I don’t get it out, then I’ll never clear the air.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “That night, in my parents’ backyard, the guys had just finished another round of hilarious jokes about my grades when you arrived.
Always the optimist who wanted to help, my dad said, ‘You know what they call the guy who graduates last in his class from medical school? Doctor. They call him doctor.’ That had the guys hooting and hollering about how I couldn’t possibly get into medical school.
“They were doubling down on jokes about how I was a dumb jock and the token Asian. They concluded all the brains in the family had gone to Stef.” I lift a shoulder and let it fall. “We both know that’s probably true; she’s fucking brilliant. But I was a kid, and I was embarrassed.”
“You’re smart too, just in a different way. I see it.” Nessa presses a palm to my pec. Can she feel how fast my heart’s beating? How stupid I feel admitting to the lame reason I said what I did?
“Regardless, what I did was wrong. I was young and stupid. So stupid. You walked in, looking so grown up. Truly, you didn’t look like a little girl anymore.
You did look like… well, you looked as gorgeous as you do now, Ivy.
” My chest tightens at the memory. “You caught my eye, and somehow, the hormones and the jabs between the boys turned my brain to mush. So I opened my mouth to make a joke, thinking I’d keep the same energy. Instead, I bombed. Hard.”
Blowing out a breath, I duck my head, letting the shame engulf me.
“Can I?” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Can I just make a joke of this all right now so I can say it?”
“Sure.” She presses a little harder, like she can slow my racing heart.
“Then the vicious girl, Poison Ivy, clapped back. She shouted, ‘You can’t suck a dick you can’t find, Mr. Chow,’ referencing The Hangover . Then she stormed off.”
I hang my head, knowing there is no comparing the two, wincing at the thought of meeting her gaze. I really am a fucking idiot. The silence stretches on, but neither of us moves. The only sounds are the leaves of the trees rustling in the wind and the periodic exhales we take.
Breaking the silence, Nessa croaks, “Did I really say that?”
“In front of the whole team, and all your friends. You didn’t let me get away with shit. How the guys turned that into a story about anything other than how you handed me my ass is insane. They called me Chow for months after that.”
I chance a look at her. Her lips quirk, and then a giggle slips free. That laugh causes all the tension to evaporate.
I lean in closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Let it out. Can we laugh at how horrible teens are?”
That earns me a full smile and a chuckle.
Laughing together feels good.
Leaning closer, I whisper, “I am truly sorry, and you’ll never have to do anything you don’t want to. You’re in charge. You’ll always call the shots.”
Her laughter dying, she slides her hand to the back of my neck and guides me down until our noses touch.
Eyes glimmering with mischief, she says, “You started it, but I guess this will finish it.” With a whimper, she crushes her lips to mine.
All at once, it’s frantic. Like we can wipe the slate clean.
Start fresh and be free of those memories.
A real chance. I part my lips and lick into her mouth lightly.
The air around us grows warmer, my skin flushes, my muscles tense.
My cock stirs to life as our kiss deepens, but we’re yanked from the frenzy when a heavy cough cuts in.
“Sorry to interrupt, but since you were busy, I got these.” Liam points at the large crate of apples on the front seat of the golf cart.
Heaving a few breaths, we turn to him. If I look anything like Nessa, we’re both flushed and glassy-eyed.