Beneath Our Faults

"Then your answer is fuck if I know," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm not sure where "fuck if I know" is at on the numerical scale, but that's a pretty sad answer," I remarked. "I also think it further proves my point."

"It's not like I keep a little black book of all the girls I've hooked up with.”

"Maybe you should." I knew girls at school who had lists of all the guys they had hooked up with so they could keep count.

"Eh no, I don't kiss and tell," he explained. "What happens between the girl and I is our business.”

"Rumor has it you've never even had a girlfriend before.”

"Rumor is correct for once."

"Out of all the ‘fuck if I know’ girls you've been with, you haven't wanted more with them?" I asked, playing with a strand of my hair. "Not even one?"

"I didn't exactly believe in relationships?"

"You didn't or you don't?"

"I didn't. After careful consideration lately, I've been thinking you can't knock something before you try it."

"So you changed your mind?” I asked, prying. "Why?"

He exhaled a deep breath. "I've always thought love was some bullshit term people used to make themselves and other people feel better. I've lost count of how many times I had to pick my crying, drunken mom off the floor wailing about how some guy promised he loved her, but still left her. The funny part was that the next night, she would have a new guy in her bed. Love is both a weakness and a strength to people. When you tell someone you love them, you have created a weakness for yourself because that person knows how strongly you feel about them. When someone tells you they love you, you've just gained yourself strength because you now own those people. Just like all those men did with my mom."

"That's just one situation. You can't base the whole concept of love on one person's experience with it."

He scoffed. "Oh baby, I've seen more than one experience. If only you could be a fly on the wall in the locker room or at porn shoot. There are so many people who claim to be happily married there, actors, directors or even crew, yet they cheat on their "loved ones" all the damn time. I mean, look at you, obviously you've loved before and look how unhappy you are now."

"My situation is different.”

"Is it?”

"Uh, yes." Okay, I was starting to get pissed.

"You’re right, it is,” he said, catching on to my attitude change. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear. I only said it because people believe they are untouchable when they are in love, but they’re not. When you love someone, you usually set yourself up for disaster later.”

“But now you’re saying that you can love? So you would be setting yourself up for disaster.”

"I'm not sure if I could ever love, per se."

"So you still don't actually believe in love?" Jesus, it's like we were playing a damn guessing game.

"I've just met someone who I think I could actually break the rules for."

My heart stopped. "You've met someone?"

His hands ran through his hair. "I think so. I'm not saying I'm in love with the chick or anything, I just wouldn't mind being more with her."

"Do I know her?" I interrogated, curious.

"Possibly," he answered, shrugging and turning his attention back to the show.





"GOOD MORNING sunshine," a scratchy, deep voice called out from above me.

The arm covering my eyes shot away, giving me a full view of the perfect but sleepy face looking down at me. His deep green eyes were half-mast.

I gulped, looking down the couch and noticing my body stretched out the entire length of it. A soft pillow was under my head, lifted up by Keegan's lap. "I didn't puke," I whispered, proudly.

"You didn't puke.” His chilly hand reached down to my face, gently brushing away my crazy morning hair. Damn bangs. "Now how about we get something in this tiny belly," he tapped two fingers on my stomach over the blanket, "to be sure you don't this morning either."

"Did we sleep like this?"

"We did. You slept like a baby, looking all comfortable since I make such a great pillow." He stretched, giving me a view of his full biceps through his thin, white shirt.

I frowned. "Sorry, I bet that wasn't very comfortable for you."

"No worries, it wasn't so bad with the exception of your godawful snoring.”

"I do not snore.”

"I beg to differ, princess, but it's a cute snore, so don't worry," he chuckled, tilting his head and studying the diamond pendant attached to the chain.

He leaned down to grab the neglected blanket on the side of the couch and he lifted me up, wrapping the blanket around my cold body. "Next time, more clothes," he reminded, following behind me into the kitchen with his hands wrapped around my waist to hold the blanket in place. He ran his hands down the front of the blanket before sitting me down on the chair directly across from the stove.

"What sounds good for you this lovely morning?" He asked, dragging out pans and food from the fridge.

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