Second Chance Boyfriend(56)

This story is going in a bad direction. I can feel it. “A weak copy of me?” What, does she have a pattern? A type she prefers? Is she saying I fall under that type?

“You know what I mean.” She waves a hand. “He was my first. I gave up my V card to him because I was stupid, thinking it would bring us closer and he would fall totally in love with me. Then I find out he has a girlfriend, right after I had sex with him. He was totally using me because she wouldn’t mess around with him, so he ran out and found the first dumb girl who would.”

I both feel sorry for her and infuriated with her that she would do something so careless. “So what, you were fifteen when you were first with that guy?”

“Yeah.”

“How many guys have you been with, Fable?” Okay, now I totally sound like the jealous asshole boyfriend. I don’t want to be that guy. I know she needs to get her past off her chest and it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t hurt me. I didn’t know her then. We were both different people then.

But knowing about her past does hurt. I can’t deny it.

“You’re going to automatically assume the number is outrageous, aren’t you? I really didn’t expect you to pass judgment on me like everyone else in my life.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “You disappoint me, Drew. I figured you were better than that.”

Fuck. How do I respond? I’ve blown it completely. Now she’s pissed. I can practically see the steam rising out of her ears. She refuses to look at me too. Instead she chooses to stare straight ahead for the rest of the ride to her apartment, her jaw hard, her eyes narrowed.

From happy to angry in a matter of minutes, that’s what I just did to her. And why? Because I’m feeling a little possessive of her time and I want her to spend it all with me? Am I that insecure? I’ve never had a real girlfriend before. I’ve never been someone’s boyfriend. Twenty-freaking-one-years old and I’m a complete, clueless idiot when it comes to relationships and how to make them work.

I pull into the parking lot of her apartment complex and her hand is already on the door handle. She looks ready to leap out of the vehicle while it’s still in motion, she wants to get away from me that badly. “Fable, wait.”

Hitting the brakes, I wait for her to respond but she doesn’t. Her back is to me, her body poised to take flight and escape right out the door. I’ve hurt her and I hate that.

“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice soft. “I didn’t mean to pass judgment on you. I have no right to do so. You accept all my faults, it’s the least I can do for you.”

She turns to glare at me. “Because I accept your faults, you’ll accept mine? Is that all this is? If so, I need more from you, Drew. This isn’t some tit-for-tat sort of deal. I need your trust. I need you to believe that I want to be with you and only you. And my past can’t shade our present or our future. My past has always followed me and you know what sucks? Most of the stories out there are completely untrue. I make a few wrong steps, a few bad mistakes, and it turns into me ruling a multiyear Slutdom over all the guys. Through high school, outside of high school…”

I remain quiet, absorbing her words. She’s right. I can’t let her past bother me or darken our future. If I do, I’m just setting us up to fail.

“I’m not perfect,” she murmurs. “No one is. But I’m not going to pay for my mistakes every time you get mad at me or jealous. Going out with Jen tomorrow night isn’t about me trying to flirt with other guys or anything like that.”

“I never said it was.”

Her eyes soften the slightest bit. “So what’s the problem? Why are you acting like this?”

“I’m not good at this sort of thing. I’m fucking it all up and I don’t know why.” I tap my fingers against the edge of the steering wheel, unsure of what to say next, feeling edgy as hell.

She holds all the cards in this argument right now. I’m scared she’s going to say I’m not worth the trouble.

“Using that as an excuse isn’t going to fly forever, you know. After a while, it’ll just get old.”

“What are we doing, Fable?” I ask incredulously.

She shrugs. “Having our first fight as a couple?”

I want to laugh but I don’t. “I mean this. Us. What’s going on between us?”

“If you have to ask, that scares me,” she answers warily.

“Are we really a couple? Are we in a relationship? We haven’t defined it yet.”

“Do we need to? Can’t we just take it day by day?” She turns away from me and stares out the window. “I’m tired. Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this now.”