“It’s okay,” he whispers. His arms come around me, and he holds me. Heholds me.
And I think that’s the worst part of all.
I let out a choked sob. “I’m sorry.”
He rubs my arms. “Nothing to be sorry about, baby,” he says, and I let myself believe the lie.
Chapter Twenty-One
Aaron
Jacob’s been different since this evening—since we fucked.
He’s still holding my hand, kissing me, and being sweet as pie in front of my family, and the Tempest’s, but there’s an edge to him that wasn’t there before.
And I know it’s my fault.
I pushed him too hard. I should have pulled back, I should have prepared him better, I should have…
Not been so quick to jump into the fire when I didn’t know his boundaries. He said he wanted it—wanted me to fuckhim. I made sure he gave me that explicit consent, given the circumstances, but… I think I crossed a line somewhere, and the fact he won’t tell me what’s wrong makes me more anxious. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what I did.
Since Chris is gone, dad opted to take us all out for dinner at theLampost, which is busier than usual on a Tuesday night.
“I’ll be back,” Jacob says, getting up from his seat. “Bathroom.”
The faint sounds of Taylor swift echo, the song one I’m not familiar with. Lola hums along though, singing about loving someone for a fortnight. Isn’t that a game?
I want to get up and follow him, but I also don’t want to push him. I could do more damage than good. So I stay where I’m at.
“Jacob, can I have a word with you?” my father asks, pulling my attention.
“Huh?”
Uncle Travis and Rob are talking, and I notice Garrett’s gone. George is talking to Lola, and Aunt Shannon and Mom are gone, too.
“Yeah, sure,” I say as I get up, feeling like something’s off.
I follow my dad out the doors onto the deck of the restaurant.
“What’s up?”
“I wanted to apologize for earlier,” he says, and I have to do a double take.
“Who are you and what have you done with my dad?”
He scowls at me. “I was only speaking out of concern, but I was out of line.”
I twist my lips. Apologies aren’t my dad’s forte, and this is not something to take lightly.
“Apology accepted,” I mutter, looking out over the sea.
“I’ve just… never seen you like this, and you don’t have the best track record as far as relationships go. I feel partly to blame for that.”
And there it is. The backhanded insult wrapped in an apology.
“Yeah, well, you know, it is. Your fault. If you hadn’t been such a dick about my choices—”
“Because your choices affect this company, Aaron. Your choices reflect the company.”
