Chapter Twenty-Seven
Zade
As I stand there, locked in a silent standoff with Juniper, every inch between us buzzes like the moments before a storm.
Her eyes blaze with fury and hurt—emotions she’s struggling to bury deep.
But I can’t back down. Not now, not when I’m this close to breaking through and proving I’m more than the lies and the mess I’ve made.
Every time I inch closer, she pushes me away, stacking walls faster than I can tear them down.
“Why can’t you just get out of my life?” She whispers, her voice shaking with the vulnerability she’s trying so hard to hide.
“Because I’m not giving up on us,” I reply, desperation creeping into my voice. I’m pleading not just for forgiveness but for a chance—one I know I don’t deserve but need more than anything.
She laughs, a harsh sound that cuts deep. “Us? There was never an us, Zade. I was just a piece on your chessboard.”
“No, Juniper! What I felt for yo u was real. I know I messed up, and I hate myself for it every day. But I need you to believe that I’m trying to be better.”
“Trying to be better doesn’t change what happened,” she snaps, disbelief laced in her voice. “You think a few words can undo everything? That we can just pretend none of it happened?”
“I’m not trying to erase anything.” The words come out hard. “I just want a shot to fix it. That’s it.”
“You don’t get to make things right, Zade! You destroyed everything. You lied, you manipulated me, and now you think a few pretty words will fix it?”
“No,” I admit, my heart sinking. “But I have to start somewhere.”
She stares at me, her chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. “I want you to leave. I want you to stay away from me and never come back.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. “I can’t just walk away from you. All I’m asking for is a chance.”
She shakes her head, her expression hardening. “I don’t owe you anything.”
I can’t take it anymore. I shut the door behind me and pull her into my arms. She doesn’t resist, her body soft against mine, but there’s hesitation, like her body wants me, but her heart is unsure.
Suddenly, she slaps me hard across the face, but I don’t flinch.
Instead, I grab her wrists, pulling her closer and forcing her to face me. “Juniper, stop!”
“Let go of me!” she screams, struggling against my grip .
“Listen to me,” I plead, my voice raw. “I’m not leaving you. Not again. Because... I have feelings for you. So deep, even I can’t make sense of them.”
She stares at me, her eyes burning with anger and hurt. I take a step closer, reaching out. “Juniper, I—”
Her hand smacks my face again before I can finish but I keep on holding her gaze. “I love you,” I finally admit.
She’s breathing hard, and I see the struggle in her eyes. The silence between us feels endless, filled with everything we can’t say. My heart sinks as I turn and walk toward the door, the heaviness of it all pulling me down.
Just as my hand brushes the doorknob, her voice breaks the tension. “Zade, don’t go.”
I freeze, then slowly turn back to her. She’s right there, closer than I expected, and her eyes are intense. Without warning, she grabs my shirt, yanking me down to her as she rises onto her tiptoes. Her lips crash into mine, fierce and full of everything we’ve both been holding back.
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close, feeling her tremble against me. The kiss is raw, messy, and full of the pain and love we’ve tried to ignore.
We move, totally driven by urgency yet somehow held back by hesitation. Both of us are unsure of what we’re doing but too far gone to stop. Clothes are shed, like we’re peeling away more than just fabric.
I press her down onto the bed, my hands exploring her body with a gentleness that surprises even me.
I kiss her neck, her collarbone, and her skin, which is warm under my lips.
Her breaths grow uneven, and her body responds to every touch and every kiss, despite the anger still simmering between us.
She tenses as I move inside her, and I slow down, searching her face for any sign of discomfort. When I see the flicker of pain in her eyes, I stop cold.
“Juniper...” I whisper, fear lacing my voice as I look down. “You’re... bleeding.”
Her eyes snap open, meeting mine with defiance and something else—something fragile. “It’s nothing,” she says, but her voice wavers.
“Juniper,” I say again, more gently this time. “Are you a virgin?”
She nods, just barely. “I was.”
The realization slams into me—guilt, protectiveness, something deeper all at once. “Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice is gentle, trying to keep the panic out.
“It doesn’t matter,” she mumbles, her voice cracking. “I’m not the kind of girl guys want. Maybe it’s better; it's finally out of the way.”
I shake my head, disbelief and tenderness mixing into something almost painful. “Don’t talk like that. You’re incredible. Any guy would be lucky to have you,” I murmur, brushing my lips against hers, my hands gliding over her skin like I could erase every doubt she has. “You’re everything.”
I move slowly, making sure she’s okay with every step, focusing on her, and making this something good, so mething real. I kiss her again, softer this time, trying to convey everything I feel but can’t find the words for.
As we move together, the desperation fades, replaced by something gentler, more honest. Her hands grip my shoulders, her nails digging in as we find a rhythm that feels like more than just an act, more than just a moment.
She tightens her hold on me, pulling me closer, and I can feel the tension building in her body. Her breaths come quicker, and her body trembles as she edges toward something she’s never felt before.
When she finally reaches that peak, I hold her close, whispering soothing words, trying to make this about more than just the physical. Her body relaxes, her breathing slowing as the intensity fades, leaving us both in a quiet aftermath.
We lie there together and now the reality of what just happened starts to settle between us. It’s sinking in, I can tell by the way her face looks devoid of any expression. I brush a strand of hair from her face carefully, because I don't want her to regret this.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly, worried.
She draws one breath. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
It was her first time. That truth crawls under my skin. “Tell me if you feel any pain.”
Her hand smacks against my chest. She shoves me. Hard.
“Don’t act noble. I still hate you, Zade Patterson.”
She throws the wor ds like she means every one of them, then gets off the bed and heads straight for the bathroom. I don’t move. I just watch the door close. Something twists in my gut. Not anger. Not sadness. Just this messy, quiet ache I can’t name. It sits heavy and won’t let up.