Chapter 21
I hadn’t intended to kiss Jason. Okay, maybe that was a lie. I had intended to. Just…not when I did. The thought had occurred to me the last night Jason had stayed with me. If I was being honest, I’d been thinking about it a lot longer than that.
Maybe not outright.
Not in the way where my mind put words to the feeling.
But…there was this ache to be close. It’d started as curiosity.
Confusion over why someone like him—someone who was as full of life as he was—would want to be saddled with me as a friend.
And as I’d gotten to know him, as he’d answered my questions, as he’d dropped his walls bit by bit, that feeling had evolved.
Jason had been spooning me in bed the moment I realized what I wanted. His breath tickling my nape, nose nuzzling like he often did. Just feeling me, because he enjoyed it. Enjoyed how big I was, how tight he could squeeze without hurting me.
Jason was warm.
So warm.
And sure.
Sure as sunrise. Sure as the joy of a good harvest. Sure as the way Mom’s cocoa always made me feel. Like my tastebuds were coming home. Something I could count on to be a bright spot of stability when everything else felt ever-changing.
The sun was peeking through the window. No clouds, no snow to obstruct it. And with it, came the promise of a new day. Our bubble breaking. The return to the lives we’d both been ignoring.
It wasn’t till Jason left the bed to get ready for the day that I understood what that feeling was. That ache in my chest. The flutter in my belly. The heat I felt just looking at him. All those little moments piled up into one ginormous, overwhelming mountain.
A mountain of reasons Jason was my favorite person.
It all led to an avalanche of realization.
I wanted him.
Wanted him in every capacity there was.
Wanted him the way I’d never wanted another person. Not because he was useful. Not because he’d helped me. Not because he was firm when I needed firm, kind when I needed kind. Not because when I thought about that small, sad little boy all on his own all I wanted was to love him.
But a combination of all those things.
All those things and more.
The way he smiled.
The way he laughed.
The way he hid, and he didn’t know I knew.
He was a magpie. Wild. Untamable. Wings spread at the ready to take off the moment things got too real. And yet…he was solid too. Because even though there was panic in his eyes sometimes, he stayed.
He stayed.
And that was enough.
Enough to give me courage when the time was right.
We stood on the porch steps. Jason’s car was idling in the driveway, warming up after we’d quite liberally cleared it of any and all reminders of the storm we’d just left behind. He’d gone up first, to return my shovel to the spot he’d found it. And when he turned around, I was there.
On the step below his, waiting.
The stiffness in Jason’s limbs disappeared, his head dipping down as he brushed our foreheads together. One of his hands found my throat, cupping me there as his pale eyes met mine. His skin was cold. Damp from shoveling snow. But welcome.
So much was unsaid at that moment. Longing palpable as my eyes drifted down to his lips. His breath hitched. I felt it. Felt the quick exhale. The way it fluttered against my own mouth. Felt it in my fucking bones.
And suddenly I knew.
I knew what I wanted.
I knew what these feelings were. These feelings that had been bubbling up inside me for weeks. Simmering, simmering like cocoa on the stove till they’d ultimately reached a roiling boil. A breaking point.
They weren’t friendship feelings, even if I’d thought they were at first. They were tremulous. Wild and fluttering the way Jason felt. Scary in their newness, but exciting too.
So I kissed him. Kept it chaste because that was all I knew.
Jason was still as stone at first, the hand on my throat twitching, like he didn’t know what to do with it.
He didn’t allow me time to fret though. His mouth softened the same way his countenance had, head tipping to the side as he pressed back into me with that same solid sureness that made me feel okay to drop my guard.
I could rely on him.
He’d proven that.
Jason was the first to pull back.
His eyes were hooded, his lips chapped and chilly.
“Jesus,” he murmured, thumb petting the side of my neck as we mutually processed what had just happened.
“Was it bad?” My voice wavered.
“No. It was perfect,” Jason replied, hand tightening to steady me. He was my height like this. Us meeting on equal footing. Literally. That was kinda poetic, right? “Don’t you worry about that for a second.”
I nodded, a short jerky motion that was more twitch than motion.
And then, because I couldn’t help myself, I grinned.
Jason grinned back.
He pulled back a little, staring at me for a beat, taking me in. “God, you’re beautiful,” he praised. My cheeks flushed. That spark I felt grew hotter. “Thank you for the gift, Joe.”
“Gift?” I blinked, smile still in place.
“Gift,” Jason echoed with surety. His hand slid upward, scraping along my jaw till his cold fingers dug into my cheeks. His thumb skimmed my lower lip, dragging across the chapped skin, memorizing the feel of it.
My pulse was jumping all over the place. Skipping. Lashes fluttering.
“I’m going to go now,” Jason said. “Let you think about this. About if you want it again. About what it means to you.” The way his thumb kept dragging across my lip was almost drugging. “From what I gather you’ve never kissed before?”
“No,” I admitted, voice rough. “Well. Just once. But I threw up.”
At that, Jason snorted out a laugh. “Sorry, sorry.” He sobered. “Not laughing at you. Just…your delivery there was so deadpan it was adorable. You threw up? The first time you kissed someone?”
I nodded. Jason’s thumb continued to tease. “Homecoming,” I grunted, when his eyebrows questioned me. “I was…sixteen? I think.”
“And you haven’t wanted to try again,” Jason filled in the blanks.
“Not till you.” My heart continued to race.
“How long?” Jason asked. “How long have you wanted to kiss me?” I made a frustrated sound, and he laughed again, though the sound wasn’t mean.
“Why are you interrogating me?” I asked, annoyed.
“Because I care about you, Joe,” Jason reiterated. “And two nights ago you told me I was your best friend. Your only friend. And now…you’re kissing me. I want to make sure this is what you want.”
I gave him a look that hopefully conveyed how stupid what he’d just said was—even if it was also…kind of sensible. “I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t want to do it,” I told him.
“Alright,” Jason snorted. “Fair enough. But…you have to understand why I’m hesitant.”
An awful thought occurred to me. “Did you…not want it?”
“What?” Jason’s eyes widened, a look of horror crossing his face that immediately made me feel very secure.
“No. Of course I did. Do. I just—there’s…
Gah.” His thumb stopped moving and because I was apparently being courageous today, I very carefully, very shyly pressed a kiss to it.
Again, Jason’s eyebrows shot up. “Joe,” Jason said my name like it was a full sentence, the way he always did.
“I liked kissing you,” I said, cheeks hot. “I like you.”
“I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“Take advantage of me, how?” He wasn’t making any sense.
“Because you’re young, Joe. Way younger than I am. And I’m…” Everything out of his mouth sounded like an excuse. Though, I wasn’t sure why he was pulling them out left and right unless there was something real behind them.
Something he wasn’t saying.
Something I wasn’t seeing.
At least…until I did.
“You’re scared,” I realized with dawning clarity.
Jason froze.
His hand twitched, like he was about to pull it away. I reached up, wrapping my fingers around his wrist to keep it firmly in place. His eyes darted everywhere, looking for escape. I was right. How…how could someone as confident as Jason be so scared? And of me of all people?
“You’re scared of me,” I stated, because it was true. God, how had I not seen it? “Aren’t you? That’s why you’re making excuses.”
“I’m not scared of you,” Jason denied, eyes still darting around. “And they’re not excuses.” God, he was wiley as a rabbit. I couldn’t believe I’d ever thought of him as a wolf before.
“You are,” I frowned. I wasn’t offended. Why would I be? I understood. Hell, I… “I’m scared of you, too.”
At that, Jason’s eyes finally snapped to mine. “What?” He looked equal parts alarmed and surprised.
“I failed before,” I admitted. “When I moved away for the first time. Went crawling back home with my tail between my legs. People pitied me. They whispered behind my back. I heard it. Of course I did. I told myself I’d never do that again.
That I’d prove to everyone—and myself—that I could handle things on my own.
That’s why I moved so far. I thought distance would help me feel more.
..in control.” It was a vulnerable thing to admit.
He seemed to realize that because his gaze never left mine.
Not once. “When I moved to Belleville I was terrified of a repeat. Worried that all I’d prove was that I wasn’t capable of taking care of myself, after all. ”
“Joe…” Jason exhaled raggedly.
“When I look at you…all I can think about is how bad I want you to make my burdens disappear. That’s…
that’s terrifying. That I might want that.
That being vulnerable might not be the bad thing I thought it was.
That I might even need that sometimes when for so long I told myself if I did, that made me weak. ”
I sensed the moment Jason stopped trying to run.
Solid now.
Solid as roots buried deep in the earth.
“You got worse walls up than I ever had,” I added, because he needed to listen. “I see that. I’m not blind.” He inhaled sharply. “You show me what you want to show me. Never anything more, or less. You’re careful. I get that.”
The more I spoke the more I began to understand my own feelings.
The more sure I felt.
“I respect it,” I murmured. “But…you gotta know you don’t need to be scared of me.
That I want to know you, the same way you so doggedly got to know me.
That I get what you were trying to teach me about letting people help you when you need it.
That I saw you let me in, and now I’m returning the favor. ”
At that, Jason’s lips tipped up, like he was remembering the months he’d practically terrorized me. I thought of them fondly now, too. Perspective was funny that way. Seeing him as he was now. A lonely, generous man, desperate to put down roots.
“I don’t want you to regret me,” he admitted.
“Never. I couldn’t. I get that you think I’m too young for you, or whatever.
Or that I don’t know what I want. Maybe I don’t.
Maybe I am. Maybe I’m still figuring things out, same as you.
Or maybe…” I inhaled. “Maybe this is the first time since I moved away from home that I feel sure about something. That I’m not pretending to know, because deep down, I feel it in my goddamn bones.
So, why don’t you just…” My hands curled in his sweater, pulling him close.
“Why don’t you let me show you what you mean to me, the way you show everyone else? ”