Page 63 of Bear and Book

The memory sent a flicker of warmth through my chest, but it also sharpened the contrast of this moment. Jason’s intrusion into my safe space, my sanctuary.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said. “You need to leave.”

Jason chuckled, low and infuriating.

“Sugarpaw Springs isn’t your town, Elias. It’s public. I have just as much right to be here as you do,” Jason said.

My throat tightened. I wanted to snap back, to shove him out, but the words stuck. Jason had always been good at that, at sliding under my skin, twisting logic until I questioned myself.

That was when the bell rang again.

Relief surged through me as Leo strode in, his golden hair damp with sweat, his broad frame filling the little shop as if he’d been summoned by sheer will.

His eyes locked onto mine instantly, worry etched deep into his face.

“Elias.” Leo crossed the space in three strides, his hand hovering near my arm, not touching but close enough that I felt his warmth. “Are you okay?”

The knot in my chest loosened just a fraction.

“I’m fine,” I said, though my voice betrayed the lie. “Just dealing with him.”

Leo’s gaze flicked to Jason, and I saw the shift. The easy warmth in his features hardening into something darker, protective. His jaw clenched, his shoulders squared.

For a heartbeat I thought he’d launch himself at Jason and tear him apart right here among the shelves, but he didn’t. Instead, Leo looked at me, not Jason.

“Do you want me to handle this?” Leo asked, quiet, steady. He was offering me the choice.

I realized then how different Leo was from Jason. Jason had always decided for me, spoken over me, carved out my choices until I barely recognized my own voice. Leo was giving it back.

“No,” I said. My hands trembled, but I lifted my chin. “This is mine to do.”

Jason laughed, though there was a sharp edge to it now.

“Yours to do? Elias, come on. You’ve always needed someone to stand up for you. You think this guy’s gonna be your knight in shining armor? Please. You’ll get tired of him. Just like you got tired of me,” Jason said.

That cut deep, sharper than I wanted to admit. But instead of folding inward the way I once might have, I found myself straightening, squaring my shoulders.

I thought of Leo’s steady presence at my back, of the way he never pushed, only supported. I thought of how much I wanted to be worthy of the trust he’d placed in me.

“You don’t get to say that anymore,” I told Jason. My voice wavered, but I forced the words through. “You don’t get to decide who I am, or what I need.”

Jason’s brows lifted in mock surprise. “So what, you’re saying you don’t need me? After everything we⁠—”

“I don’t need you,” I snapped, louder this time. “I don’t want you. You left, Jason. You walked out without a word, and you don’t get to wander back into my life like nothing happened. I’m done being the one you haunt when you’re bored or lonely. I’m done being your fallback.”

For the first time, Jason faltered. His mouth opened, then closed, as if he hadn’t expected me to say it.

Behind me, Leo shifted. I felt rather than saw his approval, the silent pride radiating off him like sunlight.

Jason tried to recover, smirking again.

“You’re just angry. You don’t mean that,” Jason pointed out.

“I do,” I said.

My voice rang sharp and certain now, clearer than it had in years. “I mean every word. I don’t want you here. Not in my shop, not in my home, not in my life. And if you don’t leave me alone, Jason, I’ll call the police and make sure you do.”

Jason narrowed his eyes, the smirk slipping. “You wouldn’t.”