Chapter 29 #2
When we reach his bedroom door, he stops.
The hallway light spills across one side of his face, catching the tracks his tears left behind hours ago.
Chesney has been through more hurt than most people experience in their whole lives.
I’ve never wanted to protect another person the way I want to protect him.
He pushes the door open and steps inside.
I follow quietly, closing it behind us with a soft click.
My chest is tight, and my pulse can’t seem to calm down.
For a moment, neither of us says anything.
He stands in the middle of the dark room with his back to me, the sound of his rapid, shallow breaths the only thing to be heard.
Cautiously, I step closer. “Chesney…” My voice sounds too loud for where we are. When he doesn’t turn around or respond, I say, “I don’t know if this is a good idea. You’ve been through a lot today, and I’m not sure you’re thinking clearly.”
The words kill me to say. Every selfish part of me wants to erase any space between us.
To kiss him and hold him. To spend the rest of the night convincing him that he’s not alone.
But grief has a way of blurring every line.
The last thing I want is for him to wake up tomorrow feeling like I took advantage of the worst day of his life.
Chesney finally turns. His eyes are red and puffy. From crying, but also from exhaustion. From weeks of watching someone he loves slowly disappear. “I’ve never thought clearer,” he murmurs.
I shake my head. “Chesney…”
“No.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s steady.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He takes another step toward me.
“I know I’m grieving.” Another step. “I know I’m exhausted.
” And another. “I know tomorrow’s going to hurt.
I know next week is going to hurt.” His lips tremble as he laughs once, humorlessly.
“I know six months from now, I’ll go to pick up the phone because I’ll think I should call my dad.
I know all of that.” His eyes lock with mine. “But none of that changes this.”
Everything he’s saying hits me square in the chest.
It steals the air from my lungs.
“What’s this?” I ask quietly.
Chesney smiles sadly. “You.” The single word is my undoing.
“I’ve spent months trying to convince myself that I didn’t still have feelings for you.
I’ve spent so many nights telling myself the night we spent together was a mistake.
I told myself it was grief or loneliness.
That it was history.” His shoulders rise and fall with a shaky breath. “But it wasn’t.”
My heart is pounding so hard, I can feel it everywhere. I can’t catch my breath. Chesney reaches for my hand again, and I let him. His fingers slide between mine naturally, and it feels like they’re where they belong.
“Jasper, I’ve spent nearly twenty years pretending I didn’t love you. I don’t want to pretend tonight.”
I can do nothing more than stare at him, unable to speak. Every version of this conversation I’d imagined ended with him telling me to forget it. Or to leave.
“I don’t want you making this decision because you’re hurting,” I murmur.
“I’m making this decision because I am hurting.” Chesney steps closer, our boots nearly touching now. “And because every time my life has fallen apart…” His voice cracks again. “It’s always you that’s been there for me. I pushed you away once. I won’t do it again.”
Emotion rushes through me and makes me dizzy.
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. My throat tightens as I blink back the moisture filling my eyes.
So many memories pass through my mind. Chesney teaching me to skip rocks at the creek when we were twelve.
Becoming his friend. Becoming more. Kissing him for the first time.
Giving ourselves to one another under the moonlit sky.
Falling in love with him. We’ve been through so much together. We watched each other grow.
Chesney was my best kept secret and my greatest heartbreak. He was my first love. And in all the years he was gone, nothing or nobody has ever compared to the way I felt when I was with him.
I lift my hand slowly, giving him every chance to stop me. But he doesn’t. My palm settles against his cheek, warm and scratchy. His eyes flutter closed, and he leans into the touch with a quiet sigh that both breaks and heals something inside me.
“I hate that today happened,” he admits softly.
“I do too.”
“I hate that my dad’s gone when I just got him back.”
My thumb brushes away another tear before it can fall. “I know.”
Chesney’s eyes open again, his ocean blues searching. Looking for something, though I don’t know what. He lets out a shaky breath, his forehead falling against mine. “I just need one thing today that doesn’t hurt. One thing that makes sense.”
I’ve never been more torn. My heart is telling me yes, while my head is reminding me to be careful. I would love nothing more than to fall into bed with him and lose ourselves for the night. To wake up beside him. But what if it’s not that simple? What if it’s only going to blow up in our faces?
“I need you to promise me something,” I say.
Without hesitation, Chesney says, “Anything.”
“If either of us changes our mind—”
“Then we stop,” he cuts in, squeezing my hand.
“No questions.”
He nods. “No questions.”
“And no guilt.”
A faint smile appears before he echoes, “No guilt.”
My heart feels like it’s trying to beat right out of my chest as I search Chesney’s face one last time.
Looking for any sign of hesitation, but all I find is honesty.
All I find is Chesney Jennings, the teenager who changed my life and the man who’s somehow found his way back to me after all these years.
I look into his eyes, then let my gaze fall lower. His tongue pokes out, wetting his lips, and my mouth waters. Every inch of my body feels alive, feels on fire.
Chesney leans in first, but I follow. The kiss is slow at first, unhurried, nothing like the desperate ones in my kitchen.
This one is softer, full of everything we never got the chance to say when we were sixteen.
His fingers curl into the front of my shirt, while mine settle at his waist. I’m not sure how long we stand here like this, but when we finally pull apart, my head is dizzy and my lips tingle.
A small, tired smile tugs at the corner of Chesney’s mouth. “So…”
“So?”
“I still don’t want to be alone tonight.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too, but it’s no use. “And you won’t be.”
Kissing me again, this time dragging my bottom lip between his teeth, he says, “Good.” Then, without another word, he takes my hand and walks me over to the bed.
As soon as my back hits the mattress, I realize something…
Somewhere beneath all the loss, all the years, and all the silence, we’ve been finding our way back to each other all along.
I think about every moment that led us here, from that very first afternoon down by the creek until right now.
I think about how deeply my feelings for him run.
How badly my body needs him. And how inexplicably right being near him feels in my chest.
Sitting up, Chesney reaches behind himself and tugs his shirt over his head.
I do the same, my heart fluttering as he watches me with dark, heated eyes.
As I lie back down, his fingers reach for the button of my jeans.
His gaze never leaves mine as he works them open and slides them down my legs.
Tossing them on the floor, he then removes the rest of his clothes slowly, like he’s in no hurry.
Like he wants to take his time and enjoy this.