“I’m pretty shitty. I’ll only let you down; it’s just what I do. Can’t explain it, but it always happens with me. You don’t want me.” He said this, showing his palms almost as if he wasn’t warning her at all, but merely giving a carte blanche excuse to let her down in shitty ways. “But it’s your call, really. You feel how you feel.”
“Don’t talk that way, Andrew. I know you; you’re not that kind of person, not the person I know.” Becka looked down and fidgeted with her fingernails. “I know there’s a decent guy inside. I’ve seen him. I mean the way he– you, handled yourself against Donny Taylor, kept a cool head.”
“I was more afraid of that asshole than anything else. He deserved a beatdown.”
“And you held back because you knew it wasn’t worth it. That’s the guy I’m talking about. I’d like to know him more.”
Andrew glanced straight into her eyes, then looked away. “Why is this so difficult?” he thought. Wasn’t quite sold on the idea, opening up, letting someone into his life. Rather uncomfortable with it, and he couldn’t place his finger on why.
Becka reached out her hand and pulled on him. “Come here.”
Having his center of gravity suddenly shifted forward, he stepped into her embrace. The pressure on his back softened him up, making his decision a little easier. “Okay. I’m not really ready, but I could try.”
She put her fingers on his mouth as a gesture. “And that’s all I could ask.”