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If she had to pick a strange man to rescue her, at least it was one who was outraged by the right things.
Nik couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a man voluntarily give credit to a woman for an idea. That was one of the major reasons she’d gone freelance, all of the men talking over her and pretending they’d come up with her ideas, even when everyone had heard her say them out loud.
Carlos coughed. Maybe they needed a reminder that there was a guy at the table with them? Nope, that just made all four women, his little sister included, glance his way and laugh harder.
A lot of men out there seemed personally insulted that she, a black woman, had rejected a white man.
“If the demon gets me, tell my mother I loved her.” Apparently they watched the same kind of movies.
“I think I’ve given other people similar advice, now that I think about it. It’s always easier to give people advice than it is to take it yourself.”
“I didn’t like her that much. I only had dinner with her because I felt sorry for her. She was dealing with some harassment after the video went public and was freaked out.”
Ahh yes, that’s the other reason she didn’t mind Natalie’s sugar-sweet attitude. Because every so often, she could see the cyanide hidden in there.
“I promise we can hang out and eat pancakes and drink rosé and I won’t propose to you on a JumboTron.”
It was good to have friends who knew you better than you knew yourself.
Every so often, you add some liquid, and you stir some more. You can’t rush it; you can’t turn up the heat or add the liquid all at once to make it go faster. It’s ready when it’s ready. And so you just stand there and keep stirring, and everything settles down by the time the food is ready.”
“It feels stupid to still dwell on something a jerk said years ago, but for some reason I remember some of the negative stuff people have said about my writing like it’s imprinted on the inside of my eyelids, and it’s much harder to remember—or believe—the compliments.”
She didn’t ask any more questions; she figured now was the time to just be silent and let him talk or not talk as much as he wanted.
“On top of everything else, it makes me think of my dad. Which sucks, because between Father’s Day this coming weekend and the anniversary of his death next Friday, I try to avoid thinking about my dad as much as possible in June.”
“No apologies. We all need a shoulder to lean on sometimes. I wouldn’t have offered mine if I didn’t want to.”
Far too quickly, she’d finished all of her food and lay back down in bed. “Oh my God, I’m so full I’m going to die.”
Carlos had not told her that Alexa was black. From everything that he’d told her about Drew, mild salsa and all, it would never have occurred to her that he’d be engaged to a black woman. And . . . judging by the quickly masked look of surprise on Alexa’s face, Alexa hadn’t known she was black. She hadn’t thought to have the “did you tell your friends I’m black?” conversation with Carlos—she assumed that because he was Latino she didn’t have to. Which was probably partly true; she hadn’t been worried that his friends were racist. But if Alexa had been the white woman that she’d expected her to
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They both laughed until they cried. He fell asleep, still with a smile on his face.
“Holy shit.” He sat bolt upright, and she groaned and rolled onto his pillow. “What? Do you have to be at the hospital?” He shook his head and stared at her. “I’m in love with you! I love you!”
He’d just thought they were going along, having great sex and hanging out a lot, too, sure, but that it was all just fun. But along the way, he’d fallen in love with this smart, abrasive, caring, hilarious woman.
“There must be something wrong with me. Here I have this great, smart, kind, hot man telling me he loves me, and I recoil. Everything was so great, and now it’s over, and he thinks I’m an unfeeling asshole. Maybe I am.”
He knew he loved her; he knew it to his core. He loved her for her kindness, her ability to laugh both at him and at herself, and her intelligence. But most of all, he loved her for that feeling he had when he sat next to her on his couch in silence or woke up next to her in bed, that feeling of peace and happiness. That he was with someone who understood him and everything about him. That everything was right with the world.
Good God, sometimes it felt like all of society was complicit in trying to make life harder for women.
Once I learned to trust myself, my instincts, and my emotions, trusting other people was a lot easier.”
Being happy when you thought about someone; wanting to never stop thinking about them, even when you were fighting; having every damn thing in the grocery store remind you of them, from diapers to sour cream; wanting to be a better writer and friend and person because of how they were and how they made you feel; wanting to be with them, all the time, even though you kept fighting it.
“Carlos. I love you. I’m in love with you. I realized it in the sour cream aisle at Vons last night. Isn’t that a ridiculous place to realize you’re in love with someone? Well, that’s how it happened to me. I saw the sour cream, and I laughed, and I thought about you, and I thought about how happy you make me and how much I missed you, and then I realized what all of those feelings meant, and then I felt like a fool for letting you go.”
I’ve spent so long being afraid of love, because the last time I was in love, the man I loved only loved one part of me, but not all of me, and I thought love meant having to sacrifice a part of yourself. But then I was with you, and you loved every part of me, even the parts I don’t like. And that scared me more, because I thought there must be some trick and that I couldn’t let myself believe it or I’d fall into the trap. But finally I realized it wasn’t a trap.”
