Maybe I’ll try again and bring it as an appetizer for Jared’s upcoming birthday. I still haven’t gotten him anything. He loves golf but plays like crap. He gets all touchy when I rib him about it, which I often do, of course. What could be better than to rub in his lack of talent by giving him golf lessons?
My sisterly musings are cut off by the sound of the buzzer.
I check the security app rather than going straight to the intercom. It’s an extra step that I now take. I look at the screen…
My eyes freeze.
My hands freeze.
My mind and body freeze.
Jasper.
I should be elated, but I’m scared because I know how much he can hurt me. He doesn’t intend to, but it’s what he does. I walk slowly to the door and buzz him in.I regret it immediately. Seeing Stiles is not in line with moving on or self-preservation. It’s emotional suicide.
Still, I open the door before he even knocks. I will tell him to go. I will not let him in. As long as he has my heart and I have none of his, I will not give him anything more.
I watch as he strides forward—jeans and a T-shirt, his eyes direct and centered on me.I won’t melt. I won’t melt.He reaches me, and, damn him, I melt.
He stops. Not a single word passes between us. I look at him; he looks at me. I stand in the doorway. He stands beyond the threshold, close enough to touch, but I don’t.
He looks the same, but not the same. With Stiles, there was always this shroud of darkness he carried. It would go dormant when he smiled or allowed himself moments of joy, but it was always there lurking, reminding him he didn’t deserve to be happy. I didn’t understand what that darkness was then, but I understand it now. And looking at him, I don’t feel its presence the way I used to. He seems…I can’t find the right word…butlightercomes to mind.
Or maybe that’s just what I want to see.
“Hi,” he finally says—just hi.
“Hi,” I say back.
“Can we talk?”
The last time, that question resulted in a set of rules that we bent and that I shattered.Can we talk, did not work out so well for me. That fires my temper.
“I haven’t heard a peep from you in weeks, and now you want to talk. You’ve got some nerve.” Revved up, I poke his chest. “Let me tell you something, Jasper, you don’t get to mess with my heart. It was perfectly intact before you.”Poke.“It was whole and belonged to me.”Poke.“You had no right to take it if you were only going to break it over and over again.”
He grabs my wrist on the next poke. “I’ve been worse than a jerkass. I’ll take good care of your heart this time, if you’ll let me.”
Holy shit!I stop trying to take back my hand. I was not expecting that. “You want my heart?”
“I want all of you.”
“Jasper, if you’re messing with me, I will rip your throat out.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He smiles. It’s a smile that reaches his eyes and brightens them. “I want to tell you some things that have happened over the last few weeks, which made it possible for me to be here now. But…” his smile dims. “You may not want me after you hear this.”
“Nothing you tell me is going to change how I feel.”
“I won’t hold you to that.”
I want to tell him I already know. But I won’t take this pivotal moment away from him.
“Come in.” I link our hands and lead him to the living room. I take a seat on the couch. Stiles sits beside me, close but angled to meet my eyes. His Adam’s apple bobs on a thick swallow before he speaks.
“The woman from my past, her name is Lilah. I met her on a train going from Carlton Springs to Denver. She was reading this book about dragons. That piqued my interest. I asked her why, and she responded, ‘Have you ever flown on the back of a dragon?’ Of course, I hadn’t. And she said, ‘Me either, but I’d love to.’ It was a whimsical answer, one of just many things I came to like about her. She was a brilliant cellist for the Colorado Symphony. She had a nice, normal family, so different from my own. They welcomed me with open arms, and I grabbed onto that. I fell in love with them and with Lilah too. She was perfect. But it wasn’t the kind of love to build a future on. I didn’t know why I couldn’t love her that way, no matter how hard I tried.
“When she started talking about marriage, it rattled me. Lilah thought it was the poor example of my parents breeding my fear. I let her believe that when the truth was that I didn’t love her enough.
“We fought about it often. The worst of it was when I was home for Christmas. She continued to bring it up repeatedly. I knew my reservations were hurting her, but I was too gutless and selfish to tell her the truth. I wasn’t ever going to marry Lilah, but I didn’t want to lose her and her family, so I let her believe that I needed more time.
