It would hurt. Really fuckinghurt.
Jesse might have caught an odd twist to my face because a micro-frown washed across his features, gone in a blink. Harsh light caught the curve of one cheekbone and dripped down hisjaw. His attention returned to the mom. I stayed where I was, lab reports tucked under my arm, while he walked her to the elevator.
Act normal, I told myself when he returned, a quiet smile on his face. “Hey.”
“Hi.” Did I sound breathless, tense, awkward? Jesus, this was stupid.
His gaze skimmed me once, in a slow drag that I felt down to my toes. “You look alive. Recovered from the van?”
With a dozen thoughts clamoring for space in my brain, like a computer bogged down by too many open apps, it took me a second to get it. Right, yeah. We’d exchanged a few more messages after that, nothing too personal, just carefully worded variations ofhow are youandgetting better.
“Yeah,” I said. “Or—I’m vertical, caffeinated, and not actively hallucinating. That counts, right?”
He glanced around, then leaned in, voice shaded with concern. “Finn…” Just that—my name, trailing off into nothing.
I swallowed. “I’m okay. Really.”
“Feels like I’ve heard that one before.” The corners of his mouth turned down. “Roughly around the time you just about fell over. So…”
“If it helps, Tay already took me to task.”
“Did he?” Something uneasy flitted around Jesse’s expression.
“Nicely,” I amended quickly, just in case that was what bothered Jesse. “He was kind but firm about it.”
“Right.” If anything, Jesse seemed even more uneasy, watching me closely. What…? Oh. No—seriously?
I stared back, waiting.
“You, uh.” Jesse’s lips pressed together. “Seems you really clicked with him.”
Yes—seriously. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Here I was, in fuckinglovewith him, and he got jealous of Tay? Ridiculous. A quick look confirmed we were alone, nothing but the polished shine of laminated floors and a window framing a rectangle of concrete buildings and gray sky.
“Jesse.” I dropped my voice. “Tay is dating that CT attending, in case you missed it. Also? I’m not interested.”
Jesse had the good grace to look sheepish. “It’s not—I mean. It wouldn’t be any of my business.”
“It also wasn’t your job to see me home the other night.” I huffed out a breath. “And yet you did.”
He blinked, face suddenly closing off. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
Idiot. The thought felt soft, too fond. I shook my head. “You didn’t overstep.”
I asked you to stay.
The words pressed against the roof of my mouth. I pushed them away, into some dark and distant corner of my brain. Not now. Not when it already felt like the hectic buzz of bees in my stomach, welling up like a wave of sickness.
“Oh,” Jesse said, quiet, eyes the color of green glass washed into velvet hues by the sea. “Okay. Good.”
“Yeah.”
Silence stretched, brittle like old chewing gum. I didn’t know how to soften it—I’m in love with youweighing heavy on my mind, nauseating, a scream on a loop.
“You, um. When I took you home.” Jesse’s voice scraped through the hush, gentle and uncertain. “You asked me to stay.”
My pulse skittered at the base of my throat, breath catching on something raw. “Yeah,” I admitted softly. “I did.”
His eyes held mine. “Why?”
