Fuck It (Yama Yama)

He sits back and silence reigns for a few moments before he asks, “Does it worry you?”

He’s been so honest, I have to be the same. “A little. I’m not experienced in relationships so I worry trusting you might be naïve.”

He nods and gives me a small smile. “I understand. It isn’t something that gets solved overnight. It’ll take a while for you to fully trust me. I’m not experienced in having healthy relationships, and I worry I’ll lose you while I try to learn.”

His gaze locks on mine. “But one thing I know. I will never cheat again. That’s not the person I am anymore.” He swallows hard and takes my hands across the dimly lit table. “I will never cheat on you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone and for the first time I know how I feel, Sicily. I love you.”

A knot leaps into my throat. “You do?”

“Yes. I love you,” he repeats.

I make sure he’s looking me in the eye so he knows I mean every word I’m about to say. “You have a clean slate with me. If I were going to hold your past mistakes against you, I wouldn’t be here. I know people can change. I trust you. We’ll learn how to have a healthy relationship together. We have to.”

His lip curls up in the corner, and his eyebrow rises. “We have to?”

“Yes, because I love you too.”

With no concern for the restaurant full of people, he gets up and pulls me to my feet. His hand threads into my hair, and his lips land on mine in a scorching kiss. When he releases me, I’m ready to climb him right here.

“Can we get out of here?” I breathe.

“Hell yes, we can.”

Maybe it’ll turn out that I’m being foolish and I’ll regret it someday. Maybe my outlook on it is naïve, but it doesn’t change what I believe. Second chances should be given with good grace, and love is never a mistake.

CHAPTER 20

LYDIA

I’m running on little sleep. My chickenshit self has picked up my phone so many times to call Simon but I couldn’t do it. If that woman answered again, I’d know we were done.

It’s funny. I went from avoiding a relationship with Simon to being terrified that I’ve lost him. That I have to keep feeling this way without him.

It’s an understatement to say I’m nervous as the end of the school day approaches. I’m an emotional basket case. Excited to see him again, but also dreading it and the news I might hear. I’ve done my best not to show it all day, but I’m wound so tightly that I feel like I’m going to snap and bounce around the room by the time the afterschool program begins.

Ava joins me, and we start setting up the folding tables against one wall. “You look like you’re plotting the fastest way out of here. Are you okay?”

“Just overthinking and planning what to say to Simon.” My attention gets drawn away for a moment when the kids start coming in and two of them make a beeline for the pile of junk sitting next to the office door.

“Leave that stuff alone!” I warn. “You can get the basketballs out.”

Ava clicks a table leg into place. “What’s piled over there?”

“Coach Bro was looking for something in the storage room. I wasn’t going to ask what. He found some old weights and stuff to take over to the high school. He was supposed to have it cleaned up by now.”

Ava rolls her eyes, then warns the other kids coming in who can’t seem to resist something new in the room. “We’ll give them fifteen minutes to play, then get the homework help started.” She looks up, and her eyes dart over to me. “Ah, Lydia. Simon’s here.”

What? He shouldn’t be here for another hour.

My heart catches in my throat at the sight of him. Kasha likes to say he has that sexy nerd thing going on, but all I see is the warm smile he gives me. Not that he doesn’t look sexy as hell in a suit. He must’ve come straight from work.

I’m frozen in place.

Everything I’ve wanted to say jumbles in my head as he approaches me.

Here he comes, Lydia, just be cool. Ask him how he’s doing. That’s all. Just how’s it going? The thought that leaps to the forefront of my mind is that he isn’t walking funny. I hope that means he isn’t in pain anymore.

“Hey, Simon,” I manage, spitting out the words. “How’s it penis?” It takes a split second for his eyebrows to leap up and me to realize what came out of my mouth. “Going! How’s your penis going?”

No!

A grin breaks across his face while I dig myself in deeper. “I meant, how’s it going? For you, not your penis.” Oh my god, stop saying penis. “Not that I don’t care, you know, about that. I broke it, after all.”