She finally meets my eyes when I finish my set and drop the weights off my shoulder and into the rack. I stretch as she takes a step towards me, glances at her office, then gives me a pleading look.
Why should I go?
She has Jaxon and fucked him last night to prove it. She’s already fucked Knox. I’m only the first choice when the others aren’t around.
Being in this kind of relationship can’t be easy on her. We started out terribly, but she dotes on Jaxon and Knox, gives them more of herself than she gives me. It’s like she knows she wants all of us, but doesn’t need me. I’m not ever her true first choice. I’m never the one she needs. I’m just the one who picks up the fucking slack.
She takes another step towards me, but I get up and remind one of the guys that the sauna can help relax our muscles and minimize cramps as long as we hydrate. I don’t even know if it’s true. I never asked Hope.
When I walk with two of them towards the sauna, I glance back and see Hope’s face fall. She’s used to me stepping in, supporting her, doing whatever she needs without her having to ask.
Maybe that’s why she thinks she doesn’t have to do a thing for me. It’s why she thinks that I’m happy with the leftovers of her affection. Whatever she’s dealing with, she’ll have to handle on her own.
It’s not even out of malice, really. Yeah, I’m jealous, but I have my own life and I’m just as eager to be done with all the shit that happened with Coach. Hope has to learn to handle the guilt and to push through.
Or to ask for what she really wants and needs from the one guy in the group that will put her before his sex drive.
While in the sauna, my mind still swirls. I wonder if she finally found Knox or Jax to fix whatever problem she has. I wonder if she realizes how much attention she’s given them over me. Mostly I wonder if she’s having another panic attack that only Jax can fix.
The assholes barely let me hold her at night. They’re always there. All I want to do is help her, love her, show her the kind of softness and warmth I’m capable of until she begs me to fuck her.
Whether I deserve it or not.
After a shower, I head to the car, not bothering to look for my best friends. They’ll just piss me off by smiling and joking or comparing notes on Hope. Then I’ll be the asshole for bringing down the mood.
I sit on the hood and try to calm my temper when Hope finds me. She has a box in hand and her face is so pale, I’m worried she’s going to pass out. She walks to me with determined steps, then sets the box next to me.
“That for me?”
“Thatis a problem, but not as much of a problem as whatever’s going on here,” she answers me.
I arch an eyebrow.
“I’m serious, Dimitri. That’s something…” She stares a moment, then shakes her head. “I have to get rid of it. Whatever. You… you’re more important.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “That’s new. Since you obviously care less about me.”
This is the “dick” way to fix things. I know that. But I’m tired of feeling like I don’t measure up. I’m tired of feeling unloved even if that’s what I deserve. I didn’t offer to kill her dad. I didn’t give her anything to help with it. I hurt her…
“I don’t care about you less.”
“You certainly don’t love me as much as you love the guys. Why?” Again, I’m sure it’s a stupid question coming from me. I know why. I hurt her, bullied her, never gave her anything soft or gentle until I realized how bad shit was with her dad.
Even then, we weren’t always the easiest to handle. Jax offered her moments where he was real, where he wanted to be more, wanted to take care of her. Knox beat the shit out of her dad the moment he put the ideas together. He went after her right away. He’s been there with righteous fury on her behalf while I’ve beentrying to make sure Jax and Knox don’t burn the whole world down for her while letting her get caught in the flames.
Hope looks away and tucks her hair behind her ear. “I… I don’t think I can love anyone.”
That’s not what I was expecting. “What? But you and Knox… Jax…”
“If I don’t love myself, if I don’t know what real, proper love feels like, how can I love someone else, Dimitri?” she asks, voice fragile and small. “I don’t even know whoIam without every terrible thing I want to forget.”
My anger drains from me while seeing her fold in on herself. She hasn’t told the guys this. I know because I wouldn’t have heard the end of it. I step closer to her. “You aren’t just those moments, Hope.”
She laughs a bitter laugh. “I always have some kind of problem, always have someone hurting me. As far as I’m concerned, I’m a lightning rod for abuse. It’s not… I don’t need sympathy, it’s just how I see it.”
“Then you need to get your eyes checked,” I say. But I get it. I don’t know if I canbeloved even though I know I want to show her how much I love her. How obsessed I am with her. “You’re strong enough to not only survive everything you’ve been through, but to keep fighting. You took ownership of your story every time you said something, when you fought back, when you left to create a life you wanted. You’ve defended that life and yourself constantly.”
She looks at me, eyes watering, face softening. She shifts closer to me, reaches out, then hesitates. “I really want to hug you. I want to believe you. I want you, Dimitri. It’s not that I care about you less, just differently. How could I not care about you? You’re steady, you’re stable, you’re sane. I see it. I appreciate it. I just don’t always know what to do with it… my feelings and you.”
