But seriously?Fuck. Them. Sunshinedoes notdeserve that shit.
On his next pass through my hair, his thumb swipes softly along my jaw line. Soothing. So sweet.
Cue those fucking butterflies.
“They respect it now.” As if that makes it all better.
He offers me a small smile. “And we have a call every week or so, just to catch up. Really, Tris, we weren’t ever all that close of a family. I had everything I needed, but it was all just sort of,” he scrunches up his forehead in that totally adorable Jesse way. “Going through the motions, I guess.” He shrugs again. “Alex and Ellie and their family honestly feel more like my real family than they ever did.
“Alex’s parents and siblings are in Florida, but Ellie’s family all live close by. After Stephen died, they sort of adopted me. All of them make sure I come with Alex and Ellie and the girls for holidays, all their family get-togethers. It feels,” he breathes out long and slow. “It was kind of awkward at first, but I love it now.”
“I’m glad you have them.” I snuggle up a little closer to him, glad I have something I can say that isn’t verbally ripping his asshole parents to shreds. “Alex seems like a good friend. And Ellie too.”
“The best.”
A beat of silence, and I realize it might be kinda crappy of me not to offer up something after everything he’s just shared.
So I tell him, “I don’t talk to my mom much either.”
At least that’s one true thing I can say. If the fucking understatement of the century and true are the same thing.
Since I already went and blurted that shit about foster care and Mindy and Neal, Jesse probably could have already guessed what I’ve just told him, but whatever.
Maybe that’s why, or maybe just ‘cause he’s sweet enough to realize my answers could only be shitty, he doesn’t ask me anything about my mom. Or my dad.
Not that I’d even have anything tonotsay about him. Never even knew the fucker’s name.
Considering my mom’s taste in men though, I’ll count that as a blessing.
Thank fuck it all gets a little less personal from there. Sort of.
I find out he and Stephen spent half a year in Europe at the beginning of grad school. Part of it was for his research. A chance to get his hands on some actual books and papers from all the way back in the fourteen hundreds and other hella cool sounding shit that I didn’t realize people were even allowed to do. He got to travel all over too, and from the way his sweet grey-blues light up when he tells me about it, I can tell it was every bit as off-the-charts-amazing as it sounds.
So yeah, then he finds out I’ve never been on a plane. Never been anywhere farther from here than Houston.
And like the sweet, sweet sunshine he is, he doesn’t bat an eye. Only asks me where I’ve been that I liked best.
The smile he gives me when I tell him the truth— “Seattle,” just might be the fucking best thing I’ve ever seen.
I don’t press my luck by telling him I’ve never gone on a trip. Never actually traveled anywhere.
Only ever moved.
Maybe none of it sounds like a big deal, but to me, talking like this, sharing these little bits and pieces—fuck—letting Jesse in, ishuge.It’s something I’ve never done. Like,ever.
Something I’ve neverwantedto do.
But now? With Jesse? Damn if I don’t actually like it.
We find out neither of us ever had a pet growing up.
No surprises, he tells me that he loves to read historical fiction, especially ones with a bit of a love story to them. Even if it’s tragic.
Fuck if I can remember the last time I read a book.
I don’t tell him that.
His favorite color: green. Not bright green or really dark green, he tells me, but the sort of green the saltwater off the pier turns when the sun shines through it.
