I’m pulled out of the way just before the hood of the car reaches where my legs once were.
“Holy shit.” Jake’s eyes are wide, his large hands strong around my arm as he pulls me into him. “Are you okay?” he asks, bringing his free hand to my other arm to hold me steady.
I blink back at Jake, confused and scared and completely unsure of what just happened. If this moment is even real.
He lets go of my arms, and the coolness that greets where his hands just were is more uncomfortable than the prickly chilliness surrounding us.
“S-Sorry… I…” My brain is jumbled and messy, making it hard to find words.
“It’s to the point where you’re running from me?”
I blink and swallow hard, words clogging my throat. I don’t know how to explain myself.
“I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt,” he adds quietly. “Going from making out in a closet to watching you jump into traffic just to get away from me.”
“I’m sorry,” is all I can say.
“Alana,” he presses. The way he says my name is like velvet silk on his tongue. It’s enough to clear my mind.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ran from you.”
His hands find his pockets. “Why did you?”
“I’m…” I try to think of the best way to answer, but when no excuses come to mind, I settle for the truth. “I’m avoiding you.”
Jake’s brows crease, and an uneasiness coats his expression. “Yeah, I can see that. Why?”
“Because,” I huff. “I told you—I have a lot of shit going on, and I don’t want to drag you into it. I just…” I look away, my hand sweeping across my forehead as if the action can clear my conscience.
“So instead of dealing with it,” he says, “you’re pushing me away when every part of you wants the opposite.”
My eyes find his again, pleading for him not to go there, begging him to let me live with the blind eye I’m trying to turn.
“It’s not like that. I’m trying to deal with some things, but it’s not—they’re not easy things to deal with.”
“So let me help you.”
“You can’t, Jake.”
“I can’t, or you don’t want me to?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug, and the motion feels as lost as I am. “Both, maybe? Neither? I’m not sure.”
He licks his lips and releases a frustrated sigh, his head turning to the right before his eyes are back on mine. “You’re making a decision for me I never asked you to make.”
“I have to, Jake. This ismymess—”
“Did it ever dawn on you that maybe Iwantyour mess?” he asks. “That I wantyou? All of you. Whatever that means, however that comes?”
My breath stutters. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Why not?” He steps closer, swallowing the space between us until the only warmth I have is the heat radiating off him. “You think I only want you when you’re easy? When you’re fine? When everything is neat and simple?” He shakes his head. “Alana, I don’t care how complicated it is. I…” he hesitates, swallowing as he shifts from one foot to the other. “I care about you. More than I’ve cared about anything or anyone in my life. Nothing else matters to me besides that. Besidesyou.”
“That’s exactly the problem.” My voice cracks, betraying everything I’ve tried so hard to bury.
His jaw flexes. “No. The problem is you keep assuming I’ll walk away. That I can’t handle whatever it is you’re fighting. You won’t even give me the chance.”
“I’m trying toprotectyou,” I whisper.
