“You want the truth?” He asked. I nodded and waited for him to continue. “I knew that he’d act like an ass if he won.”
“Well that was a bit manipulative, don’t you think?” I playfully slapped his arm. Seeing Beau’s reaction was a reminder of just how big of a jerk he was back in the day. It was my fault for not expecting what I knew was deep down in Beau, but I’d done my best to forget everything about my past, his obnoxious behavior included.
“And, I plan on stealing his girlfriend, so the least I could do was let him think he won a race.” He continued the second I looked at him, my eyes pleading for him not to. “I said I was going to fight for you. I never said I’d fight fair.”
I smiled, because I just couldn’t not. He was saying all the right things and I believed him.
“I just wanted to remind you who he really is, Nore. He’ll always be the way he is.”
“And you? Are you the same?”
“Not in the way you think I am.”
“Meaning?”
“I’m not just going to run away and not speak to you for seven years.”
“That doesn’t change things.” I fought the urge to look away from him. “It’s not as simple as that.”
“It could be. I want you. I want to be with you.” The sincerity in his eyes had me hanging on his every single word. “I want a chance to make up for being such an ass back then. I feel terrible about it all.”
“It’s fine. What happened happened.”
“It’s not fine,” he reiterated. “You were pregnant, Nora. With my baby and I should have been there for you. I should have—”
“We should have done a lot of things,” I interrupted. “I should have told you the truth that day.”
“I would have stayed,” he assured me.
“I know you would have. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to be the reason you gave up your dream.”
“This is not on you.” I could tell what he was doing. He was beating himself up. Taking the blame. But he shouldn’t have been.
“Maybe we are both to blame,” I told him, hoping to ease the guilt that he felt. Neither of us were prepared for the situation back then. “We were kids. We made mistakes.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Which is exactly why I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I want us to have what we couldn’t back then.” The promise of his words were nice and a part of me wanted to kiss him. To hold each other and plan a future together, but was it possible for us to make up for lost time? Could we just pick up where we left off?
“What happened to being just friends?”
“Did you really think that was going to last?” He cautiously rested his hands on the tops of my thighs, his calloused fingers rough against my smooth skin. “And there is a very simple solution to all of this.” I didn’t flinch under his touch, because in that moment it felt like we were exactly where we were supposed to be. “Break up with him.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” He leaned forward. “Break up with him.”
“I can’t break up with him just because you tell me to,” I argued. His grip tightened. Not in a way that was out of anger or frustration, but desperation. He wanted me to pay attention to what he was about to say. I couldn’t have looked away from him if I tried.