Save Me (The Me Novellas) Read Free

that we’d slept together on our second date, but for the casual acquaintance, that was it. I’d heard him recite those same two facts countless times to friends and family members. The first couple of times, it sounded nice. After that, it sounded repetitive. I was pretty sure he didn’t know any more about me. Not because I hadn’t told him, but because he never listened.
    “ What?”
    “ My major. Why am I going to school?”
    He looked at the ceiling, his brow furrowed. “Uh … English?”
    I frowned, a little pissed that he’d gotten it right. “OK. But what emphasis?”
    He rolled his eyes. “How the hell am I supposed to know?”
    “ Because you’re my boyfriend,” I said. “Because we’ve been dating long enough for you to know.”
    He cracked open a second bottle of Surly and took a swig. “Look, Katie. I’m not that kind of guy. You know that.”
    Which was such a bizarre answer. Not the kind of guy to pay attention? The kind of guy to care? The kind of guy who had never developed his long term memory unless it related to fantasy football?
    The problem was, I did know he wasn’t that kind of guy. And I wanted more. Right then, I needed more.
    “ So what kind of guy are you?” I asked.
    He smiled. “Good-looking.”
    That, he definitely was. Blond hair. Blue eyes. A sculpted body he worked obsessively at.
    He was also clearly modest.
    “ A hard-worker,” he said.
    He worked hard at the things he cared about. His job. His body. Restoring his ’65 Camaro.  Fantasy football. Emptying a beer bottle.
    “ What kind of boyfriend are you?” I asked.
    “ I dunno.” He pointed the bottle at me. “Wouldn’t you be better qualified to answer that question?”
    He had me there. The only problem was, what I wanted him to be wasn’t what he was. I wanted a boyfriend who would take the news I’d just given him and wrap his arms around me and tell me everything was going to be OK. I wanted a boyfriend who acted the way books and magazines portrayed the male species: a take charge, solve-all-your-problems kind of guy. I wanted a boyfriend who cared about me, who loved me and who was more interested in me than TV golf. And I was pretty sure that wasn’t Ben.
    “ Can I ask you something?”
    “ Sure.” He looked at me expectantly.
    “ Do you love me?”
    He reached his hand out to cover mine. “Of course I do, babe.”
    I pulled my hand away. “Why?”
    “ What do you mean, why? What kind of question is that?”
    “ It’s the kind of question a girl asks her boyfriend when he seems more interested in everything but her. My life has just imploded. And what do you ask me?” I stared at him. “You asked me if I was moving with my parents.”
    “ What the hell does that have to do with me loving you?”
    “ Because if you loved me,” I said slowly, working it through in my mind. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have asked. You wouldn’t have even entertained the thought of letting me go. Wondering if I would. None of that.”
    He shook his head. “Are you PMSing or something?”
    He was also the kind of guy who’d ask that . Because, you know, anytime females get upset, it’s because we’re about to start. Not that I couldn’t be insane during that time, but I wasn’t sure there was a worse thing for him to ask at that moment.
    “ Do not drag my hormones into this discussion.” I waited for Dylan to take away the empty nachos plate before continuing. “You know what I expect a boyfriend to do?”
    He started to answer but I cut him off. “Be concerned. Act like they care.”
    “ I do!”
    “ Offer solutions.”
    “ I did,” he said. “I suggested you move in with Dani.”
    “ Yeah. I know.”
    “ What other options do you have? It’s not like you have a ton of other friends … ”
    I felt my face redden. I’d never had a ton of friends in high school. I hung out with a bunch of different people, but after graduation, we’d all scattered. There were a few alum who were