The Ground Below

Chapter Twenty-two

“Since we are dating now, I can tell you the truth, right?”

Karter laughs, “I think that is how relationships work.”

Taking a deep breath, I aim to spit it out. “Here goes. The macaronis suck.” The noodles are barely done, and very crunchy.

“Oh. You don’t like my macaronis?”

I shake my head.

“Well, I guess we can’t date then,” he teases.

“The macaronis are a deal breaker?”

He’s silent for a moment. His face straightens. “Parker, if you can’t love my macaronis, how can you ever love me?”

He’s joking. The corners of his lips start to curl.

“Ha. Ha. I love you just fine, even after eating those god awful macaronis.” His mouth drops open, and I admittedly regret saying those words.

I can’t believe I said that. We just started dating. This relationship is anything, but conventional, yet that doesn’t give me an excuse to tell him I love him on the first date.

Risking a glance in his direction, I see him gaping at me. I shake my head, and try to laugh it off. “That was a joke… I was joking.” My laugh isn’t successful, and ends up sounding like I’m choking.

“Parker-,” he starts, but I cut him off by standing from the chair. I shake my head again. That seems like all I can do anymore. I put one foot in front of the other, and move into the living area.

I know he couldn’t love me after this time, but what if I just scared him?

His boots make a loud thudding against the floor. “Parker-”

“I told you I was joking. Kidding. Jesting. Don’t you understand?” Rejection sucks, and I don’t think I can handle it. He’s staring at me. I can feel him staring at me. He’s thinking of a way to let me down gently, because that is the kind of guy he is. I would ask him to take me home, but we live together so that is out of the question.

The rain blankets the terrain as I look out the window. The lights lined down the walkway reflect off the water.

His arms wrap around me, “Just so you know, I feel the same.”

“You do?” I croak.

He places his warm lips against my cheek. “I do.”

Turning around in his arms, I look up at him. He reaches up to wipe my wet cheeks. “Please don’t ever cry over me, Parker. I’m not worth it.

I stand on my tippy toes, and place a simple kiss to his lips. “You’ll always be worth it.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he smiles.