Chapter 20 Jesse
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jesse
I’m flipping a steak on the grill when my phone buzzes in my pocket. Usually, I’d ignore it—burnt meat is less messy than drama, but the name on the screen makes me pause.
Ivy.
“Hey,” I say, tucking the spatula under my arm.
“Jesse,” she greets, her tone light, teasing even. “How’s the grill master today?”
“Perfect timing, actually. About to ruin dinner for myself. What’s up?” I lean against the counter, eyes on the coals.
“Not much,” she says with that little laugh I know means trouble. “Getting all the decorations up with the children in tow is manic.”
“Sounds… lively,” I laugh. “I haven’t even thought about my tree yet. I probably should try. And how are you? Surviving?”
“Barely,” she admits. “But, you know me. Chaos is like breakfast. I eat it all the time. I think I’m doing better than Liv anyway.”
My ears prick up. “Oh yeah?”
She hums on the other end. “Yeah, she’s looking for contractors. Trying to get out of Karl’s place, back to her own space. I’ve got my guys helping, but I thought you might know a few people who could help too.”
“With the fire damage?”
“Right.”
I swallow hard. “Okay… yeah. I can help. Not solo. I’m not about to fix walls and plumbing myself. But I can find others.”
I hear a short laugh on the other end. “I was hoping you’d say that. My lovely, reliable big brother.”
I hear a crash and a wail over the phone.
“Ivy? You still there?” I ask, but she’s already shouting,
“Mia! Lily! Pickle! Don’t, ugh, oh no!”
Guess she’s gone.
I lower the phone, my mind already clicking. Contractors, plumbers, carpenters, anyone who won’t ghost on a job. Boone, definitely Boone. He’s solid, doesn’t take shit, and actually shows up. Perhaps the other ranch hands will help as well…
Knock, knock.
Huh?
Who the hell is that?
I wipe my hands on my apron and step off the porch. There she is.
My ex.
Vanessa Cruz.
Standing there like she owns the world. Or at least like she owns me, which is worse. My chest tightens, stomach twists. She always did show up whenever she felt like it, but that was a long time ago now. Things have changed.
Or I thought they had.
“Vanessa,” I say, keeping my tone as neutral as I can manage. “What… what are you doing here?”
Her lips twitch into a little smirk, like she’s rehearsed this, and it hits me the wrong way. “Hey, Jesse. I know. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, a while,” I mutter, arms crossed, stepping back. “Long enough that I assumed you’d left town. For good.”
Her brow flicks up, a little challenge in her eyes.
“Gone?” She tilts her head. “Really? That’s what you think?”
I rub the back of my neck, trying to keep my voice calm, but the tension in my jaw gives me away. “Yeah. Done. You have a new boyfriend. We stopped seeing one another. You left town. That’s life, Van.”
She shifts her weight, glancing at the grill and then back at me, a little too nervously for someone who’s usually all fire. “Listen… can I come in? Just to talk. I… I don’t want to do this on the porch like some weird neighbor spat.”
I hesitate. Every instinct screams no, but the polite part of me, hell, the part of me that remembers how she used to make me laugh, the way she could disarm me with a look, forces my hand.
“Fine. Five minutes. No longer. And don’t get comfortable.”
She steps inside, brushing past the threshold with that sway she’s always had. My chest tightens again, memories I don’t want to come back skittering along the edges. I gesture vaguely toward the kitchen.
“Sit. Not on the counters, please. And I swear if you touch the grill…”
“Relax, Jesse,” she says, grinning, dropping onto a chair. “I’m not here to start a kitchen fire.”
I lean against the counter, arms crossed, scanning her. She’s still the same Vanessa. Sharp, beautiful, infuriating. My pulse beats a little faster than I like.
“So,” I start, trying to keep it casual. “How’s life treating you? The new guy… you two still a thing?”
Her smile falters, just for a second. “Not anymore. We broke up a little while ago. It's… complicated.” She shrugs, but there’s a weight to it, something she’s not saying. “Anyway… I’ve been thinking about you.”
The words hit like a punch. My jaw tightens.
“Thinking about me?” I echo, trying to keep steady, but the heat in my chest rises.
She leans forward, soft now, coaxing. “Yeah. A lot. Since we… ended. I’ve been confused. Stupid. I realized maybe I didn’t… I didn’t appreciate what we had, what I had with you.”
I blink, gripping the counter, trying to force my voice into shape. “Vanessa… we were casual. It wasn’t some serious thing.”
Her eyes flash, half amusement, half challenge.
“Not serious?” she repeats, leaning back, tilting her head like she’s trying to read me. “Jesse, we went out a lot. We didn’t just… text occasionally and grab drinks. You made time for me. You kissed me like you meant it. That’s serious.”
I laugh, bitter, trying to shrug it off, but it comes out more like a groan. “Van, it was fun. It was something. I liked you, yeah. But we didn’t… we didn’t do the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing. You were dating other people. I was… doing my own thing. It wasn’t—”
“You were doing your own thing?” she interrupts, leaning forward now, eyes glinting. “Jesse, you were staring at me like I was the only one in the room every time we hung out. You think I didn’t notice?”
I take a step back, running a hand down my face, trying to control the heat in my chest. “Van… you’re twisting this. I wasn’t… look, we both knew where it stood. Casual, right? We didn’t put labels on it, didn’t… plan for forever.”
She scoffs, a teasing, dangerous smirk tugging at her lips. “Casual? You call that casual? The way you showed up for me, the way you made me laugh, the way you… Jesse, you were anything but casual. You’re full of it.”
I open my mouth, then close it, because I know she’s right. I did care more than I should’ve. I did show up. I did laugh, tease, and make her feel like she mattered.
But this… this “I want a second chance” crap, now? It’s the wrong timing, the wrong energy.
I know things are kinda messy, but this isn’t a good idea. No way.
Her smile sharpens, that dangerous curve I used to fall for. “Since when do you play safe, Jesse?”
Before I can answer, she moves fast. Two steps and she’s in my space, pressing close enough that her perfume fills my lungs. Vanilla, sharp spice, and memory. My pulse stumbles. I push back against the counter, but she just follows, her hand sliding up the edge.
“Van,” I warn, but she doesn’t flinch.
She tilts her head, eyes glinting as if I’m the one playing coy.
“What’s the big deal? It’s just us. Let’s go on a date.” Her fingers hover near my chest, daring me not to react. “Have a bit of fun, just like we always used to.”
I catch her wrist before she touches me, but she doesn’t back off. If anything, her smile widens, daring me to let go.
“Stop,” I bite out.
But she doesn’t even blink. She leans in, lips inches from mine, her free hand skimming up to my jaw before I can block her.
“You kissed me like I was the only one in the world. Don’t you dare tell me that was nothing. I miss you. I missed that. It wasn’t the same with him.”
I shove her hand down, stepping back so fast the chair behind me rattles. “Enough. Vanessa, I said no.”
The smile drops from her face like a mask shattering. Her eyes widen, stunned, as if no one’s ever told her that word in her life. Then the shock twists into something else—anger, hurt, disbelief.
“No?” she spits, rising. “You don’t mean that. You can’t mean that. You don’t just… walk away from what we had.”
My jaw locks, but I keep my tone steady, even as heat burns under my skin. “You already did.”
Her chest heaves, color rising high in her cheeks. She takes another step forward, refusing to give me space, her hands balling into fists.
“Don’t put this on me. You wanted me, Jesse. You still want me. I see it. Don’t you dare lie to my face.”
I shake my head, my pulse hammering, the air in the room sharp. “I’m not lying. I’m telling you the truth. I wanted you, yeah. I cared more than I should’ve. And you left anyway. You don’t get to rewrite it now because you’re lonely.”
Her lips part, trembling between fury and desperation. “So that’s it? You’re just going to throw me away like I never mattered?”
I drag a hand through my hair, pacing, needing the distance before I explode. “You mattered. That’s the problem. You mattered too much. And now I’m done.”
Silence drops heavy between us. She stares at me like I just ripped the ground out from under her. And for the first time since she walked in, I see it. She didn’t expect the no. She doesn’t know how to hear it.
Her stare hardens.
“So that’s it?” she snaps. “You’re done with me? Just like that? Don’t even try to tell me it’s because you’re suddenly above it all.”
I stay quiet, bracing against the counter, arms crossed tight.
Her voice cracks, anger slicing through the tremor. “Tell me the truth, Jesse. Is there someone else?”
The question slams into me, and before I can stop it, my brain betrays me.
Livvy.
Her laugh was low and husky in the dark. The way she clung to me, nails in my shoulders, breathless and begging. The way she whispered my name like it meant something, like I meant something.
Heat punches through me, raw and sharp. I close my eyes, jaw clenching.
But then Ivy’s face cuts in. My sister. Livvy’s best friend. The invisible line I’m not supposed to cross. One, I already blurred too far that night. Guilt swells hard in my chest, choking out the memory.
I force myself to look at Vanessa, my expression hard.
“No,” I say flatly. “There’s no one.”
She narrows her eyes, studying me like she can peel the truth right off my skin. “Liar.”
I shake my head, but it’s too slow, too heavy. She sees the hesitation, the flicker I didn’t mean to show.
Her laugh is bitter, sharp as glass. “There is someone. I can see it all over your face. Jesse, who is she? Who the hell got under your skin enough to make you throw me away?”
Her words whip through me, but I don’t move, don’t answer. I can’t. Saying Livvy’s name would blow everything up.
So, I swallow the truth and hold the lie.
“You’re imagining things,” I grind out, though my pulse is hammering.
Vanessa leans closer, her anger twisting into something darker, hungrier. “Then prove it. Look me in the eye, Jesse, and tell me I’m wrong.”
I do look her in the eye. And the silence that follows feels like it might tear me in half.
Her stare is a blade, sharp and unrelenting. She leans in like she can force the truth out of me with proximity alone.
There’s no way I can tell her the truth. She’ll run right to Ivy to cause issues for me. I shake my head and ignore her.
“You can’t even say it,” she hisses. “You can’t even lie well. Jesse, who is she? Huh? Some shiny new toy? Someone who doesn’t know you like I do?”
I exhale through my nose, hard, trying to keep control. “Vanessa, enough.”
“No,” she snaps back, slamming her palm against the table. The sound ricochets through the kitchen. “Don’t ‘enough’ me. You don’t get to sit there and act like we were nothing, and then… then you’re looking at me like you’ve already moved on. Like I’m replaceable.”
“You walked away,” I bite out, the words spilling before I can stop them. “You had someone else. You left. What did you expect me to do? Sit here like a dog waiting for you to come back?”
Her face twists, wounded and furious all at once. “Don’t you dare. You know I cared. You know it wasn’t just some fling for me—”
“Vanessa,” I cut in, hands gripping the counter. “It was fun, it was messy, it was… it was what it was. But it’s not where I’m at now.”
She shakes her head, standing so quickly her chair scrapes across the floor. “Bullshit. You’re scared. That’s all this is. You don’t want to admit how much I meant to you.”
I step forward, meeting her glare with mine. “You’re not listening. I don’t want this. Not with you. Not anymore.”
For a second, her bravado cracks. Her lip trembles, eyes flashing hurt before she smothers it with anger. “You’ll regret this,” she spits. “You think whoever she is will stick around? You think she’ll get you the way I did?”
I clench my jaw, blood pounding in my ears. “Vanessa, leave.”
She stares at me like I’ve slapped her. Then she laughs, short and sharp, and grabs her bag off the chair. “Fine. But don’t come crawling back when she breaks your heart.”
She storms toward the door, heels striking the floor like gunshots. At the threshold, she spins, eyes still wild, still demanding. “You’ll think of me. You will.”
I don’t answer. I hold her stare until she finally huffs, mutters something under her breath, and slams the door behind her.
The silence that follows is suffocating. I drag a hand down my face, jaw aching, chest tight.
The smell of charred steak lingers in the air, but all I can taste is the bitterness she left behind.