My heart drops clean through me at the sound of his voice on the other side. “Liv, it’s me.”
Daphne and Finn exchange a look—one of those silent twin conversations they have that says:do we stay or do we run?
“I’ve got it,” I mutter, wiping my palms on my jeans. Disclaimer: I definitely don’t feel like I’ve got it in any way, shape, or form.
When I open the door, Jay’s there, shoulders tense, breath uneven, one hand still curled as he’d been about to knock again. His glasses are slightly fogged at the edges, his hair curling at his temples. His dilated pupils find mine, searching, and relief flickers over his face. He’s so handsome it hurts to remember being with him, having him, loving him. Because that’s what I did, I went and fell in love like a stupid idiot. But seeing him now just makes me angry at all the things I can’t have.
“Can we talk?”
“No,” I say, and try to close the door.
He catches it before it shuts, palm pressed firm against the frame, foot wedged in the doorway. “Liv, please—”
“I don’t want to.” It’s a lie that burns coming out, I do want to, and it’s killing me to push him away, but self-preservation and all that.
His jaw tightens, and for a second, I think he’s going to let me have it my way. “I’m not going anywhere, Olivia.” He pushes the door open just enough to meet my eyes. “You can slam it in my face, you can yell, you can hate me, but I’m not leaving until you hear me.” Of course he’s not; that’s not who he is.
Behind me, my friends rise slowly. “We’ll give you two some space,” Finn mutters to Daphne, who’s already got their coats. “Text us later, okay?”
They open the door, letting Jay inside with a nod, but when the door clicks behind them, silence fills the space and suffocates me with the fresh scent of him. My body is still so attuned to him that it pains me to step back.
“I don’t think there’s anything left to say,” I manage, crossing my arms. Lies, lies, lies; they spill out of me like lava.
“There is,” he says, voice cracking. “There’s everything.”
He takes a step forward, but I don’t move. A part of me wants to hear what he needs to say. The other part wants to jump his bones and fuck it out. Then there’s the other, more ragey part, that would like to punch his stupidly adorable glasses off his perfect face. Anything could happen.
“Nothing has changed from last night,” I begin, letting common sense talk. “I’m happy you got the job.”
“I would never do to you what he did,” he says quietly, and for a second, I’m not following what he’s said versus what I said.
“What do you mean?”
“You should’ve told me about running into Rhys. You could’ve called me.”
My heart pulls painfully. “And what was I supposed to do? Call you so you’d drop everything for me? I thought you were working, and it would’ve been even worse if I’d inadvertently ruined your interview. You don’t deserve to clean up my messes all the time.”
He steps closer, voice pushing into all the cracks in my armor. “I wanted you to trust me. I wanted to help you when you need someone. Have I not earned that?”
He has. He’s probably the only man I’ve ever loved who actually took the time to love me back, which is why letting him go is going to hurt so much. And still, my body slips toward him, toward that gravity he’s always had over me, and I hate it because I don’t know how to stay safe in it.
“I’m trying,” I whisper. “But every time I trust someone, I’m the one who ends up bleeding for it.”
His eyes bore into me in that way that gets under my guard, like he sees every jagged part of me and still reaches out anyway. “I’m not asking you to pretend it doesn’t hurt. I’m asking you to let me hold the parts that do. That’s all I’ve ever asked of you, Liv.”
My throat closes because he’s right. “What if I give you that and you still leave?”
He shakes his head, jaw flexing with something fierce and tender. “Then that’s on me. Not you. You mean too much to me to ever make you feel that way. But we have so much to talk about.”
The words sting because they hit exactly where they’re meant to. That trust we’d built felt like it crumbled last night, and it left a hole much bigger than Rhys. But in so many other ways, I want this for him, and that stings too.
“I was stupid to keep the interview from you,” he goes on. “Selfish. I told myself you’d understand, that it wouldn’t feel like a secret, but I kept you in the dark. And that’s on me.”
“Yeah.” I sniff away lingering emotion. “It is.”
He nods, determined eyes set on me. “You deserve better, Liv, and I’m truly sorry.”
I stick my chin out defiantly, not ready to accept that apology, even though the rage inside me is lessening at an alarming rate.
