From Lukov with Love

by Mariana Zapata

fuck it, I was five foot three and I wasn’t built to be that person ever.

“I’ve never seen you so squirmy before, and I don’t know if it’s annoying or kind of cute.” I stared up at him for using the c-word, but nothing on his face confirmed he’d said anything like that to begin with. I didn’t think he’d use the c-word on me, at least not that c-word. Cunt, maybe. Cute, no way.

“What? You don’t think you could hurt me?” “You need a heart for it to hurt.” His hand didn’t go anywhere. “Ouch, Jasmine. Really. I have a heart.” “It doesn’t count if it’s made out of sticks and stones and painted red.” The only corner of his mouth I could see, turned up just a little. “I made it out of clay, Meatball. Give me some credit.”

“You and me, Meatball. We’re going to win if that’s what you need. Understand me?”

Those eyes were focused on mine as his grin only grew and he said, “What I want to know is…” I blinked, not sure what he was about to ask. “What is a can of a whoop-ass and where can I get one?” I didn’t mean to smile, and I sure as hell didn’t want to. But I couldn’t help it. I smiled so wide my cheeks instantly hurt and said the only thing that came to mind, “You’re an idiot.”

There was a pause. “I’m a catch.” “A catch and release.”

this make me cackle so hard.

“You. Matter. To. Me. You.

To Meatball From your best friend, Ivan

“Because I’m okay with you having ten other people be your favorite. But you’re always going to be my favorite person,” he finished. “Always. No matter what.”