His use of my real name feels weighty, and I have to swallow down another wave of anxiety, forcing myself to silently wait and listen. To feel the way he’s clinging to me. To make myself believe that my honesty just now wasn’t too much too soon, and that I haven’t finally blundered into pushing him away.
“I—” he shakes his head, face buried against my chest so the words come out muffled. “No one’s ever made me feel special before. Like, ever cared enough to want to take care of me, you know? Fuck, no one’s ever really caredanythingabout me.” Then, so quiet I can barely make out what he’s saying, “And I just can’t figure out whyyoudo.”
32
Tristan
Before I have time to regret the way-too-real shit I’ve just said, I’m flat on my back. There’s a weight pressing my body down into the mattress, and it’s only the fact that it’sJesse’sface staring down at me andJesse’swarm, soft hands cupping my cheeks that keeps me from flashing back to Tucson.
Even so, there’s still a moment when my skin goes all clammy-cold and my muscles go all tense, ‘cause of course I’ve pissed him off. Somehow.
Except he doesn’t look pissed. He looks—
And then both his thumbs are stroking over my cheeks, and warmth floods my chest, driving out the cold tightness. He’s not smiling, but that little frown tugging on his plush lips is every bit as safe and good andJesseas his sweetest sunshine smile.
“How—” he dips his head to brush a kiss to my lips, and I melt, closing my eyes to the feel of his soft touch and the warm, heavy rightness of his body all draped over mine. “—Could you even ask me that?”
Another kiss.
“How could Inotcare for you?” Kiss. “You’re—” He sucks in a choppy breath as he nuzzles against my cheek, slipping hishand back behind my head to stroke his fingers through my hair. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Tris.”
I open my mouth to say…something… The fuck if I know what. Only my throat’s too tight and that big, warmthingin my chest that feels like so much more than wanting, and so terrifyingly like something else, might just suffocate me.
With a groan that sounds like actual pain, Jesse rolls off of me, flopping on his back and hiding his face in his hands.
“Jesus Christ, Tris.” His voice is all thick and broken, and fuck, but hearing it like that makes my throat ache and my eyes sting as I try to swallow down those crazy-ass butterflies that feel like they’re trying to beat their way up and out of me. “I care about you so much it scares me, because all I can think about is how it will kill me to lose you, but I don’t have the right to tell you that, because you told me you don’t do relationships, and we’re only just seeing where this goes, and I don’t want to push you, but goddamn it, I think I might be—”
He groans again, shaking his head.
He thinks he might be…what?
There’s sweat beading along the back of my neck, and I swear to god those damn butterflies are gonna be the death of me.
And then my mind snaps back online as I process what he’s said, and I don’t know how the fuck to do it, except Ihave totell him— “I’m,”fuck,“I’m done with seeing where this goes, sunshine.”
Beside me, Jesse goes all tense for a moment, like maybe he’s even stopped breathing. And then he nods, shoulders sagging against the bed, breathing out a raggedy sigh.
“Shit, no.” I’m on him in a flash, straddling his waist as I tug his hands away from his face. “Not likethat—”
And fuck, are thosetearsin those big, sweet eyes of his?
Of course seeing that just has to go and makemyeyes tear up too as his ping between mine, all wide and just the teeniest bit hopeful, and, goddammit, when I go on, my voice comes out all hoarse and wobbly. “Like in a good way. Like,” I close my eyes for a moment, biting my lip, “like IknowI want this. With you. I—”fuck, “I trust you, Jesse. You make me feel…safe.”
It’s not like I’ve told him any of the shit that would explain what I’ve just said, but the expression on Jesse’s face as he slowly reaches for me, threading his fingers through my hair, tells me he’s guessed enough to get it. And holy shit, the way he’s looking at me, like I’ve just handed him the fucking moon—
“When I was a kid, my mom had a talent for finding the biggest assholes she could and dragging them home.”
The words feel all numb and tingly—definitelynotin a good way—as I force them out. Yeah, this totally isn’t the sweet, warm-fuzzy kind of thing the moment probably calls for, but I have to say it. Because suddenly, I want Jesse to know. I don’t want him to be leftguessingwhy what I’ve told him matters more than anything else could ever matter.
Slowly, he strokes my hair back from my face, all sweet and so fucking gentle that I have to blink hard against the stupid-ass tears that just won’t let up gathering at the corners of my eyes.
“And when she did, everything just…fucking fell apart.Shefell apart. And I promised myself that wouldn’t ever be me. I’d never let some fucker treat me like shit and ruin my life.
“So from when I first started hooking up with guys, that was all it ever was. Just fucking. And never more than once or twice. I didn’t want to stick around long enough to even tryand guess who was an asshole and who might not be.
“Then three years ago, there was this guy I just kept running into after we’d hooked up at a club one night. Josh.”
Jesse’s fingers go still in my hair as his eyebrows crash low, and I have to breathe in deep and slow, to remind myself that it’s notmehe’s pissed at.
