I rush out to assess the damage.
There’s more damage to my car than his truck, but I’ve definitely damaged his fender.
“You okay?” he repeats.
“Your truck isn’t okay! My car’s not okay! Fuck!”
I’m pacing.
“Settle down, Bay.” He halts me by putting his hands on my shoulders.
He’s looking at my face. He doesn’t look angry.
“You’re not mad?” I ask.
He frowns. “No, of course not. You’re okay?”
“How are you not mad?”
“Please answer the question. Are. You. Okay?”
I nod, tears welling up. “No! I’m not okay! That’s an almost new truck! And I’ve crashed into it.”
“It’s okay.”
“How can it be okay? And look what I did to my flippin’ car!” I throw my hands up.
“We’ll get ‘em fixed.”
“I need coffee!”
And alcohol.
“Let’s go inside and get you some coffee.”
“And a cigarette,” I mutter.
“Nope. No Eggos in my freezer, baby.” He flashes a smile and at the sign of Jase’s dimples, I burst into tears.
His face melts into an expression like he thinks I’m cute or something. He lifts me up into his arms, carries me inside, and sets me on the couch.
I’m such a moron.
Leaning over, he lifts my glasses up and pushes them into headband position, using his thumbs to swipe the tears away.
After he moves my glasses back into place with a gentle expression on his face, he says, “You’re okay.”
I nod. If you don’t count being ridiculously embarrassed, I guess…
“What do you need?”
“A coffee and a smoke.”
“No smoking,” He pokes my nose with his index finger. “But I’ll get you coffee. One sec, okay? Gonna get the car turned off, grab your stuff.”
First, I smash my vagina on him and now I smash his truck. I’m a disaster.
***