“I know,” I say breathlessly.
“Do you?”
“Ireallydo.”
There’s no question in my heart about how much he wants me. Even if I worry that I’m too much or not enough, I know he wants me as I am. The Full Jensen with all her many pieces, even the misshapen ones I try to hide from everyone else.
“I don’t always feel this way. Today just tested my limits. None of this”—I wave around us—“I could do without you. Just like with the marathon.”
“I’m just your guide.You’restill the one running the marathon, scaling the side of a mountain.”
“Is this a mountain?” I say, my eyebrows kissing.
“I’m not sure.” A soft chuckle falls out of him. “What I am sure of is that even if you have help, it doesn’t change that you’re doing this.”
“And I know. Well, most of the time…” I slosh a hard breath. “But there are times I just get caught up in those old feelings that if I wasn’t somebody people had to worry about, that I’d just be one of them. Just a friend. Just a colleague. Just a…”
“Girlfriend.”
“Yeah.” I offer a watery smile. “And I know with Anker, the girls, and you, I am just those things.”
“You’re so much more,” he murmurs.
I am.Sometimes—like today—I need to remind myself of that. I need to remember that I’m not defined by what I can or can’t do by the people that truly care for me. That includes me.
I squeeze his shoulder. “Today, I forgot. I got in my head and let those old demons play havoc. I want to be that confident woman who is able to just exist as is.”
“I get it.” He swipes his hand up and down my arm, the touch settling my fraying nerves. “Your demons got the best of you, and so did mine. The entire time, all I could think about was keeping you safe. When you tripped, it reminded me how helpless I am in that. That I can’t ensure you never face danger.Literary fuckboys. Cracks in the sidewalk. Rogue rocks. I can’t prevent them.”
“But you caught me.”
“I hope I always will.” He shifts and sits beside me on the stone. “I am sorry I snapped at you,” he says softly, folding his arm around me.
“And I’m sorry I pushed us past both our limits, and that I talked.” I lean into him.
“I don’t want you to be sorry about that.” He sighs. “This is a moment where your shit and my shit tussled. Only you’re actually doing something about your shit. I think it’s time I talk to someone. I don’t want my fear of something happening to you to cause me to lash out, or lose you.”
“In fairness, chatting while scaling a cliffside isn’t the best choice.” I press tighter into him. “I don’t want you to go see a therapist for me.”
“It’s for me. I want to breathe again. I want to just sit here with my girlfriend, taking in this view, and not panic that something could happen.”
“Okay.” I lift my head. “Do you want us to move?”
“Not yet.” He guides me back against him and presses a kiss to my temple. “What I want right now is stronger than that fear.”
My tension drains in the warmth of his body. It’s probably not the best place to sit, but we do. Tucked up against the cliffside, we just settle into this moment with each other.
His throat’s clearing breaks the silence. “It’s cloudless, making it easy to see the birds. They glide through the air like a hot knife through butter.”
“A hot knife through butter?” I bite back my smile.
“Your boyfriend isn’t poetic, remember?”
“Yeah…” I nuzzle into him, “…but you’re mine.”
“That I am.” He kisses the top of my head. “Sit a little longer, or finish?”
“I want to finish.” I lift my head.
