Chapter 29
Jase
When my parents kicked me out, I didn’t know where to go. I’ve never felt as lost as I did on that day when I couldn’t go back home—to your house.
—Jase
I had sex with Zoe. That really, really shouldn’t have happened.
Unfortunately, it felt way too good. Not only the sex, but everything: switching off my mind, escaping from reality.
For a moment that wasn’t long enough. She knows.
She knows everything. Well, almost everything.
I, on the other hand, still have no fucking idea exactly what happened back then and why everything happened the way it did.
Right now, I’m not even sure if I want to know.
As I come out of the bathroom after throwing away the condom, Zoe is sitting on my bed with her arms wrapped around her knees.
Her tangled red hair is spread out over her shoulders.
She’s wearing her underwear and her sweater again.
I’d prefer to take them off her again, but I can’t do that.
I want her to stay, but I want her to leave even more. My mind is overflowing, and I have no idea what to do. I’m tired. Not physically, but mentally exhausted. I feel empty. I kind of am too. I let it all out when we had sex. We lost control. And now? Does it change anything?
“Jase,” she says softly. Just my name, which she’s said too many times today, sighing and moaning. Each time, there was a certain sound in her voice that’s only there when she says my damn name.
I tense and avoid her eyes. I don’t know what I should say or how I should react. Just a few minutes ago, everything was right. Me under her, her on top of me, skin on skin, and her mouth on mine. No thoughts, no words. Nothing and everything.
Now it all feels . . . not wrong, but also not right. It’s some kind of fugue state that I absolutely can’t deal with.
“Talk to me,” she pleads.
I reach for my boxer shorts. “I did talk. What else do you want to hear?” I ask more sharply than I intend. But what the hell should I say? What should I do? I have no idea how any of this works.
All I know is that she ended whatever it was that we had back then in the blink of an eye. But I don’t know why. I don’t know what happened last year, and something did happen.
I’m not stupid. Something must have happened. Someone doesn’t have a problem being touched without a reason.
You don’t panic if there’s not an explanation for it.
And either I’m the reason, because yes, we were dancing the first time I saw her panic, or there’s another reason.
Either way, I don’t understand. I don’t understand her.
She remains silent, so I’m the one who has to start talking. Fuck, I hate this.
“You rejected me. In the worst possible way. I can’t pretend that it never happened.
I can’t pretend it’s okay just because we .
. . fucked. Nothing is okay, and I can’t .
. .” I gasp for breath and search for words.
Then I just tell her the truth. What good would it do to lie?
“I can’t do that again. It was all a mistake.
The notes, the sex. You and me. You’re going to reject me again, sooner or later.
And I’ll never understand why. I just can’t do it again. It doesn’t work.”
Zoe turns pale, and my heart cramps painfully because it wants something different from what my mind does. But apparently, my stupid heart has a terrible memory too.
It hurts to tell her the truth, but if I don’t do it, it will only get worse. “You make me feel something, and I can’t deal with that. Because it always hurts so fucking much. You hurt me, and I finally want that to stop. Now. That’s why you should go.”
But Zoe doesn’t move, and shit, she has to leave now, otherwise I’ll go totally crazy.
“Please,” I say desperately. And finally, she stands up, reaches for her pants, and leaves. As the door closes behind her, I feel like the most egotistical asshole in the world. And also like I’ve made a huge mistake.