Chapter 24
Tristan
I have no idea what the hell I’m doing or if anything I’ve said or done is right. I’m not even sure where I got the idea to say that last bit. The part where I told Jesse I’m here for him if he wants to talk.
It sounded right. Felt right.
And yeah, I’d definitely meant it.
But really, fuck if I know what I’m supposed to do in a situation like this. What it takes to be there for someone isn’t exactly something I was shown a whole lot of growing up, and it’s not like that’s changed since.
Until last night…
If you change your mind, I’m here.
Warm, gentle arms holding me. A long, soft kiss on the top of my head.
That dizzy, confusing butterfly-hurricane that only Jesse seems to be able to wake in me is back, and the longer I stare into his sad, soft grey-blues, the harder and faster it flutters.
Oh.
It was him.
Jesse showed me.
And just like that, the world tilts under me. Because what the hell am I doing?
A fucked-up, selfish part of my brain’s screaming for me to get the hell out of this.
Now. To turn and run as far away as I can from the fact that what’s happening here has nothing whatsoever to do with the kind of no-strings fling I’d planned on.
The type that should never have even included a second dinner or playing the fucking piano for him, let alone the way I’d opened my stupid-ass mouth and spewed all that shit I let slip about Mindy and Neal and being a foster kid.
Because what was all that even about in the first place?
Even if I could take back all that shit I never should have told him though, there’s not a chance of me turning and running.
I may be broken and useless at feelings and the last person Jesse needs for a moment like this, but I’m not a total dick. And only a total dick would run out on him right now.
Not that that changes the fact that I’m officially freaking the fuck out as the reality sinks in that, instead of even wanting to run, all I really want is to wrap him up in my arms and hold him as long and as close as he’ll let me.
Yup. Freaking the fuck out.
“Stephen and I were together for four years.”
Well shit. That snaps me back to reality ‘cause, damn.
“Being with him was the only relationship I’ve ever been in, and he’s the only one I— I haven’t—” he lets out a nervous breath as his eyes flick up to check my expression.
Oh shit, is he telling me what I think he’s telling me?
“I hadn’t really, you know, been with anyone else before we were together? And I haven’t been since—since he died. Not…really.”
Yeah, he is. Oh, sunshine—
I thought I’d seen nervous, sweet, heart-on-his-ugly-sweater-sleeve Jesse before. I was dead wrong though, ‘cause I’m seeing him now.
And holy fuck, but I think he’s about to break my heart.
Then another selfish-ass thought comes crashing into my head, and I can’t let go of the thing. I’m not gonna try and pretend like I get how Jesse feels about sex, but— “But you wanted to? With me?”
And what does that mean, considering how he’s just admitted that he’s never fucked anyone except for Stephen?
“Tristan,” he levels his gaze on me, all serious and no-nonsense, and for a moment, my adrenaline spikes and all I can think about is that I need to get the fuck away because he’s pissed. He’s so fucking pissed I just asked him that shit—
“I still want to,” he whispers, “with you.”
Oh.
Not pissed—
“I want to be with you like that more than I’ve ever wanted anyone before.” He reaches up and runs a hand through his already adorably mussed up, never-styled hair.
“This is what I have to explain because it’s so fucked up and it’s fucking me up.” He shakes his head. “I sound like an asshole for saying it—Jesus, I feel like an asshole because I loved him so much, but things with Stephen were never like that. At least, not for me.
“He was my best friend before anything ever happened between us, and until it did, I’d never thought twice about him as anything more than a friend.
We got drunk one night and kissed, and when I realized the next day that, even though it hadn’t meant anything to me, it meant so much to him, I just couldn’t let him down.
“I know how bad it sounds, especially that I stayed with him for so long, and we’d made all sorts of plans, but we were happy, and a big part of me wondered if the affectionate, comfortable sort of love the two of us had really was it.
That maybe passionate, I need you right now chemistry was just made up in books and movies, and that what we had should be enough for me. ”
In a total Jesse move, he looks down, shuffling his feet in their skin-crawlingly mismatched socks against the worn carpet.
“Tris, I want you the way I’d talked myself into believing wasn’t real. From that first day I saw you, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head for a single minute.”
He looks up, his face flaming sunset and totally adorably hopeful and uncertain, and those crazy-ass butterflies feel like they’re about to rip me apart from the inside out.
Suddenly, I’m scared to fucking death that maybe those butterflies might be about more than how he’s legitimately just told me that he wants me more than he’s ever wanted anyone else.
That maybe they’re related to that stupid-ass part of me that I’m fighting harder and harder to shut down that can’t stop hoping that maybe it’s not only my body he hasn’t been able to get out of his head but… me.
“I’ve felt so horribly guilty ever since Stephen died, Tris.
Guilty that he’s dead and I’m alive, guilty that I didn’t give him everything he deserved because I didn’t love him like I should have.
Guilty that I wasn’t brave enough to just tell him from the beginning that we weren’t right together and that he deserved someone who was in love with him.
“And then tonight, kissing you and thinking we were going to have sex— I wanted all of it more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
” His voice drops to a hoarse, miserable whisper.
“So much more than I ever wanted anything with Stephen. And when I realized it was actually going to happen, I literally felt for a second like the guilt of that was going to kill me, and I just…couldn’t.
“Tristan,” he pulls back from me, shaking his head again. His forehead’s all scrunched up and the look in his eyes is so serious I’m actually afraid of what he’s about to say next. For once though, it’s not because I think it means I’ve fucked up.
“Tris, I don’t want to give up on this,” he waves his hand between us, and the butterflies in my stomach are back in full force. “Could you— Will you be patient with me? Can we slow things down? Like, a lot? It’s okay if not— I totally understand if— I just— I can’t— I need some time—”
“Shh, sunshine,” I cut across him. His hair is warm and soft when my hands tangle in it, and the quiet sigh that he lets out when I lean in against him, close enough that our chests bump together and I have to tip my face up to see his is fucking everything.
“We can go as slow as you need to, whatever that looks like.”
I know I should be freaking the fuck out. The territory we’re venturing into feels way beyond anything I should be letting myself anywhere near. It feels fucking real, and I know I should want nothing to do with it.
So why has that selfish, panicked part of my brain that had, just a moment ago, been screaming for me to run, suddenly gone silent?
“Tell me what you need, sunshine, and I’ll do it. I—” fuck, “I want this too.”
“Really?” Jesse breathes out, and I’m not gonna lie and say my heart doesn’t totally skip a beat when his arms pull tight around my waist and his forehead drops down to press against mine.
His expression goes all soft and hopeful, and there’s a part of me that knows I should be looking anywhere except at those eyes of his to get away from whatever it is they’re stirring up in my chest, only it’s like they’ve got me trapped in some sort of Jesse-spell and I can’t do a damn thing to get away. Fuck, I don’t even know if I want to.
“Really.”
With a shaky, long sigh that sounds like relief, he lifts his head just the teeniest bit to press a kiss to the corner of my lips. Just a quick, soft little kiss, but my heart fucking melts.
‘Cause how could it not?
Then it dawns on me though. “Do you want me to go back to my place? You know, give you some space?”
It’s not as cold as last night.
“Or I could sleep in your chair?” Because even though it’s not as cold, it’s still fucking freezing out.
He shakes his head against mine, then pulls away, just a teeny bit. “Not unless you want to?”
It’s totally a question, just like the small smile he flashes me. There’s no way to miss how his breath caught though, or the way his hands tightened around my back when he asked it.
“Nah.” I toss him a smirk that I hope covers for the sappy-ass beaming smile I’m just barely holding back.
I really do hate being cold… “Last night was pretty comfy. I could go for another one like it.” A kiss on his cheek, slow and lingering.
‘Cause, you know, he looks like he needs it. “You make a good pillow, sunshine.”
Sunset pink burns beneath my lips, and I can feel the lift of his grin.
What the fuck am I getting myself into?
Slow, or even slower isn’t something I’ve done before. Not with the physical stuff. The rest? Like anything that isn’t physical? Totally nonexistent.
None of the guys I’ve messed around with have wanted anything from me beyond a quick fuck—my throat, my ass, whatever. It’s not like I was after anything else with them either, so I guess all physical was kinda the point.
And Josh…fuck him.
Josh just wanted that plus ownership. To have me ready and waiting for whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it.
Sex. His very own punching bag...usually not literally at least. Sometimes arm candy.
Except I always knew I was in for it if he caught anyone looking at me too long.
Whenever that happened, it was always my fault…
But fuck. That.
I’m not thinking about him right now. I’m not thinking about how, besides that shit with him, I’ve always sworn to myself that I’d never get mixed up in anything that wasn’t clean cut and over in a night.
Except now this thing with Jesse? So very not clean cut. So very not over in a night that it’s not even funny.
And then ‘cause he’s Jesse and maybe somehow he can legitimately read my mind— “You said you don’t usually date,” he breathes into my hair as he settles his cheek against the top of my head.
“So maybe this could be our chance? My chance. To show you how it can be? If you’ll let me, I want to date you, Tris. Let me make this good for you.”
Oh, sunshine. Oh fuck—
This is when I should run.
This is that moment when I should be turning and running and getting as far the fuck away from all this as I possibly can. Squelching out that stupid-ass crush I’ve gone and let get totally out of control.
But—
“Yeah, sunshine. I’d like that.”
The words are all choked up, and somewhere along the line, my face ended up all smushed against Jesse’s neck, but I swear I can still feel his answering smile.
Is that even a thing? Can you feel someone smile just from their body?
Maybe not, but I just did.
Holy fuck, I am so totally fucked.
And I still have to make it through another night of sharing his bed.