Losers: Part II (Losers, #2)

by Harley Laroux

“German chocolate cake? Oh my God, it’s my favorite!” It was a thick slice too, perfectly moist and layered with chocolate ganache. The sight of it alone was drool-worthy. “How did you know?” “Lucky guess,” he said, but the twinkle in his eye told me it was so much more than that. It wasn’t a “lucky guess.” It was him paying attention, listening, watching, caring. It wasn’t luck, it was effort. He knew me. He saw me.

I deserved to heal — what the fuck did I need healing from, I needed to just get over it. I deserved to be happy — why the hell should I be happy? I deserved to be loved — a person like me didn’t deserve love.

Trust was terrifying. Intimacy even more so. But I was learning to be vulnerable.

Some folks said that you couldn’t be loved by someone else until you loved yourself, but that simply wasn’t true. I learned how to love myself from the love others gave me.