Truly(130)
“No, it kind of sucks, as strategies go.”
“It sucks a lot. And I don’t want to miss out on all the good stuff because I don’t have the tools to deal with the bad stuff. I’ll find the tools instead. It’s not like I’m the only person on the planet with this problem. There’s got to be a way to fix me.”
“I think you’re already getting better.”
“Don’t flatter me.”
“I’m not. You should see yourself with the bees, or on the rooftop working with the vegetables. You’re so calm, I think it must be kind of like …”
“Therapy?”
“I think it must be good for you. And you didn’t blow up at your dad, right?”
“I kind of blew up at your mom. When you were talking to Dan.”
“Really?”
“Well, I was hostile. I got testy.”
“Did you yell?”
“No.”
“Did you brandish your fists?”
“Brandish?”
“And this time you didn’t tell me I was a stray.”
“I told you we were a fantasy.”
“Yeah, but I knew better.” She touched the back of his neck, tentative. “It just took me a few minutes to figure it out, and by the time I did, you were gone.”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he said. “I was trying to find a way to go.”
May let her hand settle against his skin, a light pressure that somehow transferred his confidence back. “See?” she said. “You have emotional range. You’re getting somewhere already, I think. I didn’t hear your conversation with my mom, but I’m willing to bet you were taking my side. And let’s be honest, she probably deserved it.”
“Maybe.”
“So I think you’ve got all the golf swing bits almost put back together. You said yourself that it’s supposed to feel like you’re not ever going to make it, and then click, you’ll be Tiger Woods.”
He shook his head, secretly pleased she remembered all that. “That’s nice of you to say, but I don’t think I’m going to be Tiger Woods. I’m aiming for Decent Guy Who’s Worthy of May.”
“Not Tiger Woods, then. Since he cheated on his wife.”
“Not Tiger Woods.”
“I’d rather have you anyway. In whatever broke-ass condition you present yourself to me. Though I wouldn’t mind if your darts game improved.”
“Funny.”
She let go of his neck, put her hand on his thigh, and leaned close to kiss his cheek.
Afterward, she snuggled into his side. They rocked back and forth. His turn to push. Her turn. Perfectly in sync.
“Can I ask you one more thing?” May said.
“You can ask me whatever you want.”
“Even if you love me, if you were worried about all that—about feeling too much, and everything being so hard—and if you’re still worried, what made you come back?”
Ben took a minute to think about how to put it. “You did.”
“I didn’t do anything. I was busy getting plastered with Allie.”
“Not anything you did, in particular. Just you.” He lifted their hands and kissed her knuckles. “You’re what matters to me. So here I am.”
She looked at their hands and smiled. “I like that.”
“Good.”
“And that’s all you were worried about? That’s everything?”
“Well, that and the fact that, like you said, we had kind of a crazy week. I’ve never fallen in love in a week before. It’s freaky.”
“I know. I’d rather keep it in a box under the bed than have to walk around all vulnerable and flipping out.”
“Me, too.”
“Little late for that, though.”
“Cat’s out of the bag.”
“Completely out.”
Ben let go of her hand to thread his fingers into her hairline, loosening her ponytail. “Given that’s the case, you could tell me again.”
May smiled that coy sideways smile that never failed to rev his engines. “You could try and make me.”
“I would be delighted to make you.”
He slid one arm around her and tugged her against his hip, bracing his free hand against the swing behind her. Their kiss had barely started to gather heat when the door opened.
“You guys done making up yet? Mom says lunch is ready.”
May flipped Allie the bird over his shoulder at the same time that Ben muttered “Fuck off.”
The door closed.
“So you want a ride back to New York?” he asked.
He kissed her jaw. Her chin. May tipped back her head, and he kissed the space behind her ear.
“Of course,” she said.