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"I'm aware," I replied, "mistakes get repeated," I said honestly. "How do I trust you not to do the same thing again?" I asked, "am I going to walk in on you one day fucking a girl or even getting fucked by a guy who happened to be 'your friend'?"  

"Wow," he said chuckling, "why don't you just tell me how you really feel," he said sarcastically. Now I felt bad for saying that, I didn't mean in a rude way or anything, but I just wanted to tell him my fear. What I fear most is that I'll never be good enough for him. Not because I'm not a good enough person, but because he'll always want more. He would always want another girl or another guy to add to his thirst. I wasn't enough for him back then, how do I know I'm good enough for him right now?

"It's fine," he said after a while, "now I know you just have a problem with my sexuality."

"Kev, that's-" I paused, he was kind of right, I did have a problem with it. I couldn't trust him around girls nor guys because he'd go both ways. "Yes, but" I continued, "how do you expect me to feel, I'm a girl, Kev," I add.

"I'm aware," he says. "You look like a girl, you have boobs and I'm pretty sure you have a vagina. My biology teacher told me that these were some of the characteristics of a female," I laughed and shook my head, "he might've also told me about the X chromosome, but who paid attention in Biology?" He asked. 

"I did," I answered him, he chuckled also. "What I meant was that I'm not two different sex," I said. 

"Oh," he paused, "Brianna, I love you because of you not because of your sex or, um... I love your personality," he said doing hand gestures making sure I got it. "Your kindness, your positivity even when it's hard, I love your corny jokes, they really aren't funny. I love how when you're drunk you let people see the real you."

"I don't think that's a good thing," I said. He came to me and grabbed my hands. He intertwined our fingers together and lifted up my hands.

"It probably isn't, but I like drunk you. You dance like crazy, you yell, you talk about the most random shit like which of our high school teachers were the hottest," he said. "You actually do these things even when you're not drunk sometimes, but you have to be around the right person. You have to be around Lucy or I," I thought about it for a second, he was right. I did always let them both see the real me, not the goody-two-shoes girl I played for others.

Not the person I played for my parents so they would be proud of me or what I showed to my friends so they wouldn't think I'm weird. "You're not missing anything that I want in someone I would like to share the rest of my life with," he added. 

"My jokes are not corny," I said after a while realizing he had made fun of my jokes.

"Whatever makes you happy sweetheart," he kissed my forehead gently and let me go. His phone started ringing, he walked to his desk and picked it up. "Hello," he said, he listened to what the other person was saying for a while, "a week, are you fucking serious?!" He yelled into the telephone. "No, I don't need your fucking money, I can pay for my own hotel," after that he slammed the phone on his desk. 

"What's wrong?" I walked up to him asking. 

"My apartment has rats and the landlord says it'll take a week to get everything situated," he said passing his hands through his hair. "Now I have to stay at a hotel, I hate hotels," he said. 

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said. I felt bad for all of this, he would have never gotten an apartment, to begin with, if it wasn't because of my family. He could have been at his big mansion that he loves very much right now. Just when I was about to leave, a lightbulb lit up on the top of my head, I had an idea. It probably wasn't the best, but I'm not exactly known as the girl who makes the best decisions. "Why don't you stay with me?" I asked. 

He looked at me raising his eyebrow, "it'll only be for a week," I told him.

"No, I can get a hotel," he said taking a seat and opening his laptop. 

"No, you hate hotels," I told him. "It's the least I can do since I'm the reason you live in an apartment, just stay with me, please?" I asked him. 

"Bri-" he started.

"Kev," I said mimicking his tone, he shook his head and let out a low groan. He hated when people mimicked him. "Just please come," I added.

"A girl begging me to come live with her," he laughed, "something I thought I would never see," he added. 

"Yeah," I said. "It's not free," I added. "You have to cook for me," he shook his head, "maybe tonight, lasagna would do," I added.

"You're going to turn me into a slave?" He asked, "should I let my family know?" He asked again.

"I wouldn't describe it as a slave, I hear that women enjoy a man who can cook. They love chefs," I said shrugging my shoulder. He licked his lips and huffed, "I'm just playing, I'll see you later," I added and walked out the room.

AN

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