She didn’t turn to look at me. “Hey.”
I wanted to hold her. I wanted to bring her close to me so she knew she wasn’t alone. I wanted to tell her that everything would be okay and there was no way anyone would ever hurt her or anyone she loved, but that was something that couldn’t be promised.
It didn’t stop me wanting to try to make that happen.
I sat down on the bed next to her and put my hands on her shoulders, pulling her back gently so she could rest against my chest.
For a moment, she was solid rock, unmoving, then something in her relented and she shifted back into me.
“I’m sorry.”
“For not telling me?” My arms went around her, just as I’d wanted. This was me being able to take care of someone in a way I’d never imagined. Those broken synapses in my head that formed attachments started to fix, or feel like they were fixing.
“If I had, Keegan wouldn’t have been hurt.”
“I’m not sure that’s true.” Genevieve had known; she’d sent Keegan to meet Jerrica so she didn’t walk across the car park on her own. I’d have asked for the same, or for Jerrica to have gone in the car with her dad, or a fucking security guard, but that wouldn’t have stopped what happened to Keegan. It wouldn’t have stopped someone putting another note on the windscreen, one that detailed exactly how they’d like to tear her apart. “I don’t think you can blame yourself for him. I don’t think anything would’ve happened differently today. But I wish you’d told me and Nate what was going on.”
She shrugged, another veil of tears falling. “I just thought it was normal. I write books, people message me, sometimes to tell me how much they’ve enjoyed it, sometimes to tell me that I need a better editor, sometimes it’s because they’ve got some of their own weird stuff going on, and I know the crap Dee got and even Chan, when they started seeing footballers. People think because you’re in the public eye, you’re fair game.” She shook her head. “I’m telling someone how to suck eggs here.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the messages you were getting? That’s the bit I don’t get. We’ve been together three or four nights a week — was I not doing something I should’ve been?” She should’ve been able to tell me; that was the bit I didn’t understand.
Jerrica turned around, her eyes too fucking sad.
“Some of the messages said that I was only with you because it boosted the publicity my books were getting.” She hiccupped, trying to stop her tears. “I worried you’d think I was using you.”
I raised my brows and moved my head back, staring at her. “Really?”
She nodded. “I’ve had a decent bump in sales since you put that picture of us on Instagram and tagged me. Do you never read your comments?”
“No. I stopped doing that a long time ago, because that’s where the madness lies. Jerrica, I didn’t think you’d use me. I don’t think you’re that good an actress.” She’d made it clear in the beginning that she was interested, but she hadn’t gone out on a limb to let me know that; she’d read the vibes off me.
“I was also worried you’d start to blame yourself for me being threatened and maybe worry that you wouldn’t be able to protect me or something.” Her back stiffened again.
We’d found the crux of the problem here, and she was right. I didn’t know what my reaction would’ve been, I only knew what it was now.
“You’re not my mother. I don’t need to save you. You can save yourself, but I can help you when you need it. I want to be your person. I want to be the man who you can call home; the man you can rely on. The man who gives you seriously good orgasms.” I wasn’t sure that last part was the right thing to say, but I was calm enough now, now I had her safe in my arms, to at least try to ground her.
Life wasn’t about just surviving the dark times. It was about dancing in the light.
“Does that mean I can’t scare you away?”
She looked at me, tears tracing down her cheeks. I wiped them away and shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
There was a nod and her chin tipped up, just like it did when she was feeling stubborn. “So I if I told you I loved you, you wouldn’t run a mile?”
I’d never heard those words before. No one had ever said them to me in thirty years of being on this planet. My mother had never uttered them to me, and no woman had ever been close enough to fall in love with me.
Until Jerrica.
“Say it.” I was suddenly desperate to hear them out loud.
Her face lit up with a smile that was brighter than any dawn. “I love you, Jesse Sullivan.”
When I told Jane about this moment, which I would, she would ask me to find a word to describe it. I didn’t know how I could use just one, but if I had to, it would be joy. Simple, unadulterated joy. I hadn’t known it before. I hadn’t known I could feel it before, not if it wasn’t from winning a game or scoring a goal. Not because of another person.
“I love you back.” They were words I’d never said. This was the first time — not the last, though.
“I’m so glad you said that.” She wrapped her arms around me, still crying, but I had a feeling that these weren’t sad tears anymore. “I’m sorry.”
