Matt was sitting on the couch when I got home, and when he looked up at the sound of the front door, I could tell he’d been crying. I stripped out of my winter gear as fast as possible. He didn’t move when I loped into the living room, so I dropped to my knees in front of him and buried my face in his stomach, hugging his middle tight. He did not put his hands on me.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I freaked out and got scared, but it was stupid, and I didn’t mean it.” My words rushed out; I was desperate to fix this. I hated that I’d hurt him.
“You’re an ass,” he said quietly. He still didn’t touch me, and I heard the pain and anger in his words.
I sat back on my heels so I could look at him. It was important that he knew I was being sincere. “I know I am. And I don’t deserve a second chance
