Losing Hope

talking, so I go with it. “Yep,” I say. “But I hope you aren’t about to ask for details, because I don’t go there.”
    “That’s not why I’m asking,” she says, shaking her head. “When you kissed her, what did you feel?”
    I definitely don’t know where she’s going with this. But still, I indulge her. It’s the least I can do for showing up unannounced, then practically insulting her reputation before getting my point across.
    “You want honesty, right?”
    “That’s all I ever want,” she says, mimicking my own words.
    I grin. “All right, then. I guess I felt . . . horny.”
    When I say the word horny, I swear she sucks in a breath. She’s quick to recover, though. “So you get the butterflies and the sweaty palms and the rapid heartbeat and all that?” she asks.
    “Yeah. Not with every girl I’ve been with, but most of them.”
    She tilts her head toward me and arches an eyebrow, which makes me grin. “There weren’t that many,” I say. At least I don’t think there were that many. I’m not sure what number constitutes a lot at this point and even then, people measure things on different scales. “What’s your point?” I ask, relieved she isn’t asking me to clarify exactly how many there have been.
    “My point is that I don’t . I don’t feel any of that. When I make out with guys, I don’t feel anything at all. Just numbness. So sometimes I let Grayson do what he does to me, not because I enjoy it, but because I like not feeling anything at all.”
    I was absolutely not expecting that answer. I’m not sure that I like that answer. I mean, I like that she doesn’t actually feel anything for Grayson, but I hate that it hasn’t stopped her from letting him try to get what he wants.
    I also don’t like that she admitted to never feeling anything, because I can honestly say when I’m around her, I’ve never felt so much .
    “I know it doesn’t make sense, and no, I’m not a lesbian,” she says defensively. “I’ve just never been attracted to anyone before you and I don’t know why.”
    I quickly turn and look at her, not sure that I heard her correctly. But based on her reaction and the way her arm comes up and immediately covers her face, I know for a fact I heard her correctly.
    She’s attracted to me.
    And she didn’t intend to admit that out loud.
    And I’m pretty sure that accidental admission just made my entire year.
    I reach over and slide my fingers around her wrist, pulling her arm away from her face. I know she’s embarrassed right now, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting this go.
    “You’re attracted to me?”
    “Oh, God,” she groans. “That’s the last thing you need for your ego.”
    “That’s probably true,” I admit, laughing. “Better hurry up and insult me before my ego gets as big as yours.”
    “You need a haircut,” she blurts out. “Really bad. It gets in your eyes and you squint and you’re constantly moving it out of the way like you’re Justin Bieber and it’s really distracting.”
    I know she doesn’t have access to technology, so I let it slide that Justin Bieber cut his hair off a long time ago. I’m disappointed that I even know that. I tug at my hair with my fingers and fall back against my pillow. “Man. That really hurt. It seems like you’ve thought that one out for a while.”
    “Just since Monday,” she says.
    “You met me on Monday. So technically, you’ve been thinking about how much you hate my hair since the moment we met?”
    “Not every moment.”
    I laugh. I wonder if it’s possible for people to fall in love with a person one characteristic at a time, or if you fall for the entire person at once. Because I think I just fell in love with her wit. And her bluntness. And maybe even her mouth, but I won’t allow myself to stare at it long enough to confirm.
    Shit. That’s already three characteristics and I’ve only been here an hour.
    “I can’t believe you think I’m hot,” I say, breaking the silence.
    “Shut up.”
    “You probably faked passing out the other day, just so you could be carried in my hot, sweaty, manly arms.”
    “Shut up,” she says again.
    “I’ll bet you fantasize about me at night, right here in this bed.”
    “Shut up, Holder.”
    “You probably even . . .”
    She slaps her hand over my mouth. “You’re way hotter when you aren’t speaking.”
    I shut up, but only because I want to revel in the fact that this night has already turned