“Messy,” she whispers. “Yeah.” I lift onto my elbow and kiss the corner of her mouth. “And now, the only messy feeling I have is regret about my messy feelings because tonight, I had a long talk with Lola about grown-up love. And in the middle of my speech, I knew it wasn’t for her. It was for me. And for the past two weeks, I’ve let fear dictate how I love you. And I don’t ever want to do that again.”
