“THOSE WERE THE best days,” Jude said, a wistful lilt in his voice. “I’ll never forget them.”
“Me either,” I clipped, not even bothering to keep the arctic chill out of my voice. “So tell me then. If they were the best days, and we both loved each other—even if it was only some stupid teenager love—why did it have to end?”
Pulling on the ends of his hair, he shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “Because I was a coward,” he admitted, grabbing my hand into his. “When Leon attacked me,” he seethed, “I didn’t know what to do.”
“You could’ve let me help you.” Beyond frustrated, I shot up from the bed. The room suddenly felt way too small. There was barely enough room for me to pace without feeling confined. But the more I walked, Sarge coming to my side, the more I realized I’d been running from this memory for the last decade. It was time to face it down once and for all. I was tired of being angry over it. And if I never healed from that day, there was no way in hell I’d be able to move on from the rest of the shit show that was my life. “Why didn’t you?” He looked at me, confused. “Let me help you? When he came after you at graduation? Why didn’t you let me stand up for you?”
The longest moment of silence stretched out between us as he walked toward me. On a strangled breath, Jude admitted, “He knew.”
My world stopped spinning. I never imagined that was the reason. “What?” I hated that my voice cracked and that my heart raced in my chest. Vividly recalling that day, I still couldn’t see it the way Jude was explaining it.
“Leon knew. Well, part of it anyway. He’d seen me at my house with someone. He didn’t know it was you, though. I didn’t let you help me because if you did, he’d have hurt you, too. I knew if he told your dad . . .”
That thought came crashing into me like a boulder racing down a cliff. Even now, ten years later, I didn’t think I could survive someone else telling my father that. Hell, he barely survivedmetelling him. Clueing into the look on my face, Jude added, “Yeah, that’s what I figured.” He stepped toward me, pulling my hand back into his. Running his fingers through my hair, he pulled my face toward his. “I’m not saying it was right, but it was the only thing I could think of in that moment. If I would’ve known—”
“That I’d run and never look back . . .” I let my words trail off, the memories of the years filling the time between then and now racing around my crazed brain.
“Yeah.” There was so much pain in his voice. “I wouldn’t have done it that way. I swear.”
I couldn’t tell if it was the honesty in his words or the pent-up anger in my chest that pushed me to my decision to let it all go, but I was done. I was done being angry—at him, at myself.
At the world.
On a deep breath, I decided to give him another chance. And if I was honest, I was ready to give myself another chance. All this back and forth over the last two days with him was fucking exhausting. “I didn’t come here to fight.” My admission registered as shock across his face. “I know it doesn’t seem that way.” I laughed, allowing myself to squeeze his hand back. “But there’s a lot of shit I need to deal with.”
“No,” he gasped, exaggerating the sound before laughing at me. “You don’t say.”
Pulling my hand from his, I shoved him on the chest, sending him stumbling back to the bed. He lay there, all sprawled out, his threadbare sweats hanging low on his hips. His broad chest called to me. As I stalked toward him, he scooted back on the bed, giving the room I needed to settle myself between his legs. Our bodies lined up perfectly. Hip-to-hip, legs in a tangled heap, toe-to-toe, we stared into each other’s eyes, trying and failing to read everything written there. “Yeah. I’m fucked up. Bad.” My voice was gravelly, desperate and needy. “Can you deal with that?”
He swallowed hard. The way his throat moved made my mouth water, made it nearly impossible to resist licking his throbbing pulse point. But I needed to hear his answer. Because if he couldn’t deal with the fact that I had a world of troubles to work through still, then I didn’t know if I’d be able to stay.
Pulling my face to his, he kissed me, his lips conveying something far deeper than any words could’ve. “We’ll see,” he joked after leaning away from me. “As for this,” he said, pushing his hips up into mine as he squeezed my ass, “it’ll have to wait until later.” Rolling out from under me, he left me cold in the wake of the heat of his body.
Propping myself up on my elbow, I’m sure the look I shot him was nothing less than stupefied.
And needy.
“Why’s that?” I asked, needing to know why the hell I was alone on the bed.
“Because we’ve got shit to get done today,” he said, turning to walk out of the room. “And if you think you have baggage, well, just wait until you see mine.” There was something in his voice—concern, worry, fear—I couldn’t quite place it. But it let me know he was dealing with his own issues. “Can you be ready in fifteen minutes?”
Scrubbing my hand over my face, I tried to catch up to the sudden change in atmosphere. No matter how quickly we’d gone to almost rolling around on the bed to leaving the house, I knew I wanted nothing more than to spend the day with him. “Yeah,” I grumbled, reluctantly standing from the bed. “Where’re we going?”
“You’ll just have to trust me.” And with that, he walked out of his room, giving me the space to get ready. I had a feeling he was leaving so I could put my arm back on without him having to witness it. That thought affected me in a way I couldn’t quite put to words. It made me feel something far deeper than affection toward him.
Respect.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he called from the door.
Stifling my laughter at the look on his face, and at his ongoing list of one mores, I said, “Yeah? What’s that?”
“Brush your teeth, will ya? You’ve got some stank-ass breath going on!” He laughed walking out of the room and I couldn’t even bother to argue with him.
A few minutes later, I walked into the living room where Jude was finishing off a second cup of coffee. Without exchanging any words, he walked past me, taking the time he needed to get ready to go wherever it was we were going. I used the few minutes to let Sarge outside and get some fresh air.
As I lowered myself into the chair facing the yard, I let the memories of that day wash over me.
More than done with having to pose for pictures with my family, I pulled away from my mom only to have her pull me back into her embrace. “I’m just so proud of you, Micah.” Her eyes were watery with unshed tears.
