Page 67 of Maybe You

And now don’t think.

I try. I really do try. I try to just feel, but there are way too many ifs in my head by now, and fuck’s sake!

Sutton raises his head and looks at me, not frustrated or angry or anything. Just calm.

“What sets you off?” he asks.

I blink at him.

“I’m sorry?” I ask.

“What makes you get in your head? Because you’re into it. I can see it. Until you’re not and you go all tense on me.”

I lick my lips and try to swallow past the dryness in my throat.

“There’s no specific reason. I just… start to overthink.”

“About?”

I swallow hard.

“I don’t want this to end up being a disappointment.”

There’s a small frown on his face now.

I swallow again. Why are words so hard sometimes?

“You’re doing me a huge favor,” I say. “I just… I don’t want this to end up with you not getting anything out of it.”

His frown deepens.

“Wait, you’re worried about disappointing me?”

“Well, yeah,” I say slowly. “If I fuck this thing up, you’ve just wasted a lot of time on nothing, and the only thing you’ll get in return is blue balls.”

He stares at me for a moment longer before he narrows his eyes.

“Are those your own thoughts or somebody else’s?”

“That’s irrelevant,” I say, avoiding his gaze.

“Got it. Look, whatever dickhead said that to you, he’s just that. A dickhead. I don’t consider any of this a waste of time.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

He sends me a knowing look.

“You don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that,” I say. “Just…”

I don’t know how to finish that sentence. I don’t know how to explain the mess that is the inside of my overthinking brain.

He eyes me thoughtfully for a little bit, and I’m quietly preparing myself for when he gives up because that’s what most people would do.

I underestimate him though.

He gets off me and nods toward the headboard.