Page 24
I closed my eyes for half a second.
“I left, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever leave you. For the rest of your life, you’re stuck with me,” I said again, because I’d probably be repeating it for the rest of my life. Some fears only loosened after hearing the same words over and over and over again even if they were always backed up with action.
“But why did you?”
“Because sometimes loving someone isn’t enough if they don’t love you back.”
He absorbed that, and I felt like my heart was already raw from the last few minutes.
“Did he hurt you?” The fierce expression was on his face again.
“No.” The answer came quickly; I didn’t have the capacity to explain how deep the hurt went, even if it wasn’t physical. Not tonight.
“He thinks I hurt him,” I said as I tried to comprehend what Lane could be thinking.
Jace’s brow furrowed. “Then why do you look like you’re the one bleeding?”
I let out a shaky breath and dropped two pieces of bread into the toaster. Nothing slipped past him. “Because sometimes hurting someone you love feels worse than being hurt.”
He went still. “That’s dumb.”
“It is,” I agreed.
He stared at the floor again. “So what now?” he asked.
“Now,” I said, “you go to your game tomorrow. You apologize for shoving your teammate.”
His head jerked up.
“I’m not apologizing to that twerp for defending you,” he argued.
“You’re apologizing for losing control.”
His jaw worked.
“He already warned you,” I said. “You want to sit out your first game?”
Jace hesitated. “No.”
“Then you handle this like someone who knows his own strength.”
He looked at his hands.
“I don’t want to be like—” He stopped.
“Like who?”
He shook his head as if he were trying to clear a memory. “Like someone who just explodes.”
I stepped closer.
“Hey,” I whispered. “You’re not.”
His eyes flicked up.
“You’re not your temper,” I continued. “And you’re not anyone else’s version of being a man. You’re a good person, Jace Walton.”
He swallowed.
