“Tris,” he reaches up and cups my cheek in his palm, all soft and sweet. “Thank you for today.”
“You’rethankingme?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m thinking you’ve kinda got that one backwards.”
He laughs softly, shaking his head, and there’s something about the way his thumb’s stroking over my skin that’s making my throat feel a bit too tight and my eyes a bit too full.
“Yes, I’m thanking you.” Another kiss, this one long and lingering. “I honestly can’t remember the last time I’ve enjoyed a day nearly as much.”
“Me neither, sunshine.”It wouldn’t matter if I could remember every day of my life. Today’s been, hands down, the best fucking day I’ve ever had.
We’re quiet for a while, and because he just feels too damn good not to touch pretty much anytime I get the opportunity, my hands are all over Jesse. Running up and down his sides, up through his hair, down over his hips.
Before being with him, I hadn’t really spent all that muchtime, or I guess any, really, touching anyone when it wasn’t just straight up about fucking. Or, for that matter, being touched by anyone. Ever since that first night I spent in my sunshine’s bed, when hewouldn’tfuck me but wouldn’t stop touching me either, I’ve gotta admit I’ve been a little obsessed with it.
Okay, if I’m being honest, maybe it’s more than a little.
I’m pretty near drifting off—apparently post-sex snuggles with my sunshine have that effect on me—when my hand that’s exploring its way down Jesse’s right thigh meets the faintly puckered indents at the top of the long scar running its length that I’d noticed this morning in the shower. I’d been about to ask him about it then, except when I’d found it was right about the moment when the two of us had started seriously making out, so my curiosity had kinda taken a back seat to more important things.
“What happened here?” My stomach gives a squirm as I run my finger down to where the scar ends just above his knee. Not gonna lie, I seriously hate the thought of anything hurting my sunshine at all, let alone bad enough for him to end up with a scar like that.
Jesse drags in a deep, slow breath before he answers, and for a moment, I’m worried I shouldn’t have asked. Not like I’m afraid I’ve pissed him off, just that I’ve just come off as nosy. Like it’s not my business—
“I was in a car accident a few years ago.” There’s a little frown on his lips that I want nothing more than to kiss away. “My leg was crushed, and my femur broke in several places. The scar is from the surgery I had after.”
“Fuck, sunshine.” My hand tightens over the scar, gripping his leg, and my heart clenches as the thought rips through me that, if it was that bad already, it could so easily have been somuch worse. That I might never have gotten to meet him at all—
Fuck.That. Not even gonna let myself think about it.
And then something else clicks into place. “Is that why you don’t like driving?”
He nods, then shakes his head. “It’s related. It is whyIdon’t drive anymore. The first and only time I tried after the accident, I got two blocks down the road before I had a panic attack and had to pull over. But usually, I’m alright if someone else is driving.”
“What made today different?”
Ithadseemed like the way he’d freaked out had caught him off guard this morning. On the way home, he’d held himself together a little better, even though I could tell how relieved he’d been when the Uber had pulled up in front of our building.
Jesse swallows hard before, “Youwere in the car today.” His voice is choked and low, and there’s no way to miss the little tremble his lower lip gives.
And suddenly, I don’t need to hear what he’s gonna tell me next to understand.
Oh, sunshine—
“Hey,” my hands are on his face, stroking over his cheeks, brushing through his hair, andfuck,my heart aches for him right now. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
He shakes his head. “I want you to know. I don’t want it to be some…thingI’m not telling you. I—Tris, I want you to know me, and no, this isn’t a piece of me I would have chosen, but I still want you to know about it.”
I nod, ‘cause that’s really all I can do. My throat is way too choked up to answer right now.
“I was the one driving the night Stephen died,” he whispers,and god fucking dammit Ihatethe heartbroken pain in his eyes.
If I could, I’d reach right inside him and strip it out of him and never let him feel it again. No one deserves that, least of all my sweet, kind, beautiful sunshine who’s too damn good for anyone or anything, let alone shit like this.
“They said the accident wasn’t my fault, that the trucker that hit us veered into our lane before I could have had a chance to do anything but—”
Closing his eyes, Jesse rolls us to the side, burying his face against my neck. “Tris, I didn’t love him the way he loved me or the way I wish I could have, but I loved him so goddamn much and I just couldn’t—”
A shudder runs through him, and his hands squeeze tight where they’re gripping onto my shoulders. Like heneedsme. Like he’s afraid I might let him go.
Not a fucking chance.
