can satisfy me. And I drive everyone away in the end.”
“I’m still here.”
“That’s because you’re not actually with me. If you were, you’d come to hate yourself…and me. Because you’d see me reacting to other women, just like they did. Do you have any idea how hard it is not to reciprocate when somebody wants you and you can feel their desire coursing through you, sweet and hot? It’s like a drug.”
Suddenly, I understand—and the barrier isn’t what I thought. He’s not thinking about how wrong I am for him, or that I’m too young anymore. It’s not being with me that he fears; it’s losing me. And I fall in love so hard that I see stars.
“Well, here’s my opinion: I don’t care where you start the fire, as long as you bring it home to me.”
Desperation wars with hope in his dark eyes. “You say that now. But it wears away at you. I’ve heard it so many times, why aren’t I enough for you ? Why—?”
“Don’t compare me to other women, Jesse. That’s not fair, and…I’m not doing it to you.”
“Stop,” he begs, pained. “You’re so fucking lovely that there must’ve been guys, but when I think about it, I could kill somebody.”
“Fair enough.”
“Give me some time. Not long. Just…I need to think.”
“Are you sure? Thinking is bad.” But I’m teasing him. When I said I’d move on, I meant after fruitless months…or maybe even years. I’ve never been in this situation before, so I can’t say with any surety when I’d run out of patience. So if he needs a few days to consider where we go from here, that’s fine.
And he knows this. That’s a handy adjunct to his empathy; he can feel my amusement. His expression lightens to relief and appreciation. I don’t have to worry about stupid fights with Jesse. He’ll always know how I’m feeling when I say something. It also means there will be no secrets, no quietly nursed resentments. I bet most women found that much honesty terrifying, but I’m on board.
“If…when…we do this, just know…I’m gonna be possessive as hell. I’ll crowd you. I might annoy you. And I don’t want—”
“Hey. None of that’s a surprise to me. If you start bugging me, I’ll push back. I’m not made of spun sugar and unicorn whiskers.”
“Do unicorns have whiskers?”
I grin at him. “That’s completely beside the point.”
Jesse puts on a movie after that, and the air feels clear between us. We’re not together, exactly, but we’re in the sweet anticipatory stage where desire flares like a bottle rocket and lights the sky with promise.
At the midway point, he squeezes an arm around my shoulder. “Stop thinking about sex. It’s distracting.”
“I guarantee nothing.”
In fact, he sleeps on the couch with me. I suspect his neck hurts in the morning because we drifted off snuggled up with his arm about me. Jesse rushes around getting ready, and I can tell he feels awful that he has to run, and he can’t take me to work, but I don’t have to be there for three more hours. So I hang out at his place until it’s time for my shift, then I catch the bus as usual.
I come in through the employee entrance and draw up short when I step into the food court. Strangely, there’s a man sitting at one of the tables, even though none of the stands are open yet. He’s not eating, either, or reading a magazine. He’s just…waiting. There’s a niggling familiarity about him, but I can’t place the memory—and when I try, that old sharp pain surges forth. The last few days have been weird enough that I pull my radio out of my backpack. Better to look like an oddball than to be caught defenseless.
“You won’t need that, Shannon.”
What’s with all of these guys knowing my name?! I stop, narrowing my eyes. “Who the hell are you?”
From this distance, I can see that his skin isn’t quite right, either, but it’s not as bad as the old woman or the man who was following me at the market. He clasps his hands
“I’m still here.”
“That’s because you’re not actually with me. If you were, you’d come to hate yourself…and me. Because you’d see me reacting to other women, just like they did. Do you have any idea how hard it is not to reciprocate when somebody wants you and you can feel their desire coursing through you, sweet and hot? It’s like a drug.”
Suddenly, I understand—and the barrier isn’t what I thought. He’s not thinking about how wrong I am for him, or that I’m too young anymore. It’s not being with me that he fears; it’s losing me. And I fall in love so hard that I see stars.
“Well, here’s my opinion: I don’t care where you start the fire, as long as you bring it home to me.”
Desperation wars with hope in his dark eyes. “You say that now. But it wears away at you. I’ve heard it so many times, why aren’t I enough for you ? Why—?”
“Don’t compare me to other women, Jesse. That’s not fair, and…I’m not doing it to you.”
“Stop,” he begs, pained. “You’re so fucking lovely that there must’ve been guys, but when I think about it, I could kill somebody.”
“Fair enough.”
“Give me some time. Not long. Just…I need to think.”
“Are you sure? Thinking is bad.” But I’m teasing him. When I said I’d move on, I meant after fruitless months…or maybe even years. I’ve never been in this situation before, so I can’t say with any surety when I’d run out of patience. So if he needs a few days to consider where we go from here, that’s fine.
And he knows this. That’s a handy adjunct to his empathy; he can feel my amusement. His expression lightens to relief and appreciation. I don’t have to worry about stupid fights with Jesse. He’ll always know how I’m feeling when I say something. It also means there will be no secrets, no quietly nursed resentments. I bet most women found that much honesty terrifying, but I’m on board.
“If…when…we do this, just know…I’m gonna be possessive as hell. I’ll crowd you. I might annoy you. And I don’t want—”
“Hey. None of that’s a surprise to me. If you start bugging me, I’ll push back. I’m not made of spun sugar and unicorn whiskers.”
“Do unicorns have whiskers?”
I grin at him. “That’s completely beside the point.”
Jesse puts on a movie after that, and the air feels clear between us. We’re not together, exactly, but we’re in the sweet anticipatory stage where desire flares like a bottle rocket and lights the sky with promise.
At the midway point, he squeezes an arm around my shoulder. “Stop thinking about sex. It’s distracting.”
“I guarantee nothing.”
In fact, he sleeps on the couch with me. I suspect his neck hurts in the morning because we drifted off snuggled up with his arm about me. Jesse rushes around getting ready, and I can tell he feels awful that he has to run, and he can’t take me to work, but I don’t have to be there for three more hours. So I hang out at his place until it’s time for my shift, then I catch the bus as usual.
I come in through the employee entrance and draw up short when I step into the food court. Strangely, there’s a man sitting at one of the tables, even though none of the stands are open yet. He’s not eating, either, or reading a magazine. He’s just…waiting. There’s a niggling familiarity about him, but I can’t place the memory—and when I try, that old sharp pain surges forth. The last few days have been weird enough that I pull my radio out of my backpack. Better to look like an oddball than to be caught defenseless.
“You won’t need that, Shannon.”
What’s with all of these guys knowing my name?! I stop, narrowing my eyes. “Who the hell are you?”
From this distance, I can see that his skin isn’t quite right, either, but it’s not as bad as the old woman or the man who was following me at the market. He clasps his hands
Similar Books
