“Look, I know better than anyone that love isn’t always perfectly balanced — it doesn’t break even, doesn’t weigh the scales equally on both sides. Someone always cares more. So, I figure it’s okay if I’m that person, with us. It’s okay, Chase. Just because it’s not perfect, doesn’t mean it’s not real.”
He stares at me.
I try out a smile, but it’s a little shaky. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to freak out or anything, and start stalking you.”
He keeps on staring.
“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just, well, you asked. And I’m not a very good liar. One time, Chrissy asked me to cover for her with Mark because they were on this couples-diet thing and she was, like,dying, so she snuck off to get some Pink Berry, and when he asked me where she was I told him she was learning to play the ukulele with a—”
“Gemma.”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
I huff. “Don’t tell me to shut up, mister—hey!”
My squeal of protest escapes just as Chase grabs me by the shoulders, pins me flat to the bed, and rolls so his entire body is sprawled on top of mine. I try to push him off, but he’s too heavy to budge even an inch.
“Get off!” I complain, squirming futilely. “You’re heavy!”
“You’re the loon.”
“Excuse me?”
“You. You’re the loon, in this relationship. Not me.”
“Am not!”
“Gemma, the amount of nonsensical bullshit you’ve talked yourself into believing in the space of just a few days could set a world record.”
Rude!
“Well, I’msosure,” I say snottily, glaring up at him.
His eyes narrow. “You’ve got yourself convinced that I don’t care as much as you do, that I’m not as invested in this as you are, and that I don’t feel the same way about you. And all that would be bad enough — but on top of that, you’vealsoconvinced yourself that it’s somehowokayto feel like that. That it’s not totally fucked up for you to be in a relationship where you’re the only one invested, where the guy doesn’t give a shit about you.”
“Well—”
“I’m talking now.” His voice leaves no room for argument, and my mouth snaps shut. “I know you’ve never done this before, I know you think we’ve got different definitions for what this thing is between us, so I’ll lay it out for you, plain as day.Mydefinition.”
Oh, boy.
He leans so close, his lips are practically pressed against mine. “We’re together. You’re mine. Which means,I give a shit. I’m always going to give a shit. We’re going to fight, we’re going to make mistakes, we’re probably going to drive each other fucking crazy because, like I said earlier, you’re a loon.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he keeps on talking.
“Don’t tell me I don’t care about you, because it’s bullshit. Don’t tell me I’m not in this with you, because I am.I’m in it, sunshine. And I care — a hell of a lot more than I ever thought I would.” He drops his forehead to rest against mine, and his voice loses a tiny bit of its edge. “This relationship — it’s happening. You and me — we’re partners. Equal partners, with equal feelings, and equal fucking chances of getting hurt. You got me?”
I’m silent for a long time, processing his words. He just stares at me, his eyes burning into mine, his body pressing me into the bed, and waits for me to say something. Anything.
“Are you done?” I ask finally.
One side of his mouth tugs up in a smile. “Yeah.”
“Can I say something, now?”
“Yeah.”