Dear Rosie, (Love Letters #2)

Because that’s all it will ever be.

Hope.

Because you can’t build a life on a secret.

Because secrets are fragile.

And eventually, they crumble.

Taking everything else with them.

I answer Nathan’s call, with my camera already pointed at my foot—propped on a pillow—as I lie in bed.

We spoke again last night. It was light but a little subdued since we were both tired and it was late.

But I want to keep the mood upbeat today.

I already feel like I’m failing as a girlfriend, causing Nathan nothing but stress, and I don’t want to be that person for him. I want to be his happy place, like he is for me.

“Usually people would have to pay for all these feet pics.” I let him hear my smile as I say it.

“Oh, I know. I’ve been selling these screenshots for big bucks online.”

I snort and turn the camera back on myself. “I expect a cut.”

“Fifty-fifty?” Nathan offers.

“Hmm.” I tap my chin. “I was thinking more like eighty-twenty. Since they’re my feet and all.”

Nathan narrows his eyes. “Seventy-thirty.”

“Seventy-five and you have a deal.”

He holds his hand out to the camera, like he’s offering to shake my hand. “Deal.”

I stick my hand out too, and we pretend to shake on it.

“Give me your info, and I’ll transfer you seventy-five cents.” He grins.

I laugh. “You’ve only made a dollar? My feet must be worse than I thought.”

“Your feet are adorable.”

I scrunch my nose. “Adorable?”

“Uh-huh. I’ve never really understood the whole foot fetish thing, but now…” He gives a thoughtful look. “If you asked, I’d be willing to put your big toe in my mouth.”

“Oh my god!” I recoil against my pillow. “Why would I want you to?”

“You tell me. It’s your toe.”

I shake my head. “You are unhinged.”

“You’re the one asking me to suck on your toes.”

“I certainly did not ask that,” I argue, then I put my hand up to stop the conversation. “How’s the convention going?”

Nathan groans. “I’m surrounded by fucking nerds.”