Page 71 of Let's Kiss and Tell

I wince. “Well, in that case…”

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I’ve been told I can tell a joke.” I throw his line from earlier back at him, and he just lets out this infectious smile, causing me to beam in response. “I’d be honored to help,” I say. “Thanks, Marsh.”

“Thankyou.” Marsh tips his head and then places a hand over the pan, gauging the heat. “How areyourstories going?”

I lean against the counter next to him and watch him sliceinto a brioche bun. “They’re doing great, actually. I think the plan is working.”

“You’re a genius.”

“I was thinking on the drive here about the next story. I was going to run it by you once it was solidified, but it’s inspired by last night.”

Marsh looks at me. “Yeah?”

“Not the dirty dancing or anything.” My response is almost immediate. “But the idea of owning up to your mistakes, admitting when you’re wrong. It’s not something that I’ve experienced a lot.”

“Really?”

“Like the fact that both of us apologized and we had a mature conversation about it?” I ponder. “That feels like the foundation of a healthy relationship.”

Marsh places two brioche slices face up and sprinkles a healthy amount of cheese on the bare side of the bread. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“Okay, amazing. I’ll start writing it.”

“Speaking of open communication,” Marsh starts, “I feel like you knowa lotabout my past relationship, and I don’t know anything about yours.”

I was able to avoid this conversation in-depth last night, mostly because this topic is always off-limits with guys I go on dates with. But whatever boundaries I’ve given myself don’t adhere when I’m with Marsh.

I exhale. “This is going to sound awful.”

“I don’t think it gets worse than asking someone to be your fake girlfriend to go to your ex’s wedding.”

“I’m not very good at monogamy,” I admit. “Or commitment…or relationships. I’ve actually never been in a serious relationship.”

Saying it out loud makes me wonder how Marsh sees me. Do I seem like someone cold and deceiving like my father? Or do I seem like someone weak and scared like my mother? I’ve worked so hard to not be either of them.

“Are you not good at those things?” Marsh asks. “Or you just don’t want those things?”

“I don’t want those things,” I admit, and relief floods me saying it so openly. “The way I see it…why would I chase something that will just lead to heartbreak?”

I watch Marsh cut up an onion into the tiniest pieces and mix it in with some kind of sauce he made. “Some people might say it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all,” he says.

I think of my parents. The hurt they’ve inflicted on each other. The sacrifice they made to stay in a loveless marriage.

“Are you one of those people?” I ask.

Marsh’s gaze stays on mine for a moment and then it cuts back down to his knife. “I think you’re smarter than all of us.” He slices another bun. “By not chasing love.”

I play with the rings on my finger, spinning them around. “What even is love anyway?” I say rhetorically, almost comically. Marsh sets his knife down and looks at me. Really looks at me.

“I thought I knew.” He flips the bread and cheese on the pan. The other side reveals a crisp golden-brown texture. “I don’t know shit.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Well.” He reaches for his glass of water on the counter. “Here’s to not chasing love.”

A light sensation settles in my chest and I laugh, clinking my water to his. “And not knowing shit.”