Chapter 29 #2
I wanted to crawl behind the couch and die. “I’m fine,” I blurted, running a hand through my tangled hair, unable to meet his eyes fully.
“Right.” He nodded, mercifully choosing to keep talking and not zero in on my embarrassment. “Sorry to wake you then, but I thought you might need another round.” He held out two more red pills and a glass of water.
“Thanks,” I muttered. I snatched the glass and the pills, then stood up quickly from the couch. I was desperate to put some space between us, so desperate, in fact, that I was shaking.
I was still trying to come down from the makeout dream I’d just had of him. It had felt entirely too real.
“Thanks for checking on me, but I’m good now,” I rambled. “I’ll probably just stay up until morning. Read or something.”
I fumbled around, looking for a book. Surely I had a floppy paperback just lying around here somewhere.
His mouth. My hands. The way I’d apparently said his name out loud.
Oh no. I wanted to vanish. Needed to gain the sudden ability to turn invisible. Please have secret superpowers, I begged.
“You sure?” Jay asked, still crouched beside the couch.
“Yep!” Finally, I stumbled upon one of my books lying haphazardly next to the toaster and grabbed it as if it were a lifeline. “I’ve got a book to read. This should—uh—keep me busy.”
His navy eyes flicked between me and the book. “Well, if you want company—”
“No!” My voice pitched louder than intended. I cleared my throat so aggressively that I nearly choked. “I mean—no, thank you. I’m fine. Really.”
“It’s no trouble,” he said as he rose to his feet. “I’m up around this time anyway.” His large frame filled my apartment, making everything feel much smaller.
He took a step toward me, and I suddenly felt like a little rabbit in the woods being hunted by a wolf. My skin still tingled from dream-Jay. And if real-Jay got too close, I wasn’t sure I’d have the restraint not to throw myself at him.
Okay. I was definitely not thinking rationally.
I must have a brain injury from the fall, because did I just think about actually kissing him just now? Not in a dream?
“Jay,” I managed to blurt out. “I’m fine. You can go.”
He cocked his head, not budging from where he stood. “Were you dreaming about me?”
My heart dropped into my stomach. “Not in the way you’re thinking,” I scoffed.
Deny. Deny. Deny.
“No?” he asked, brows lifting as he left the safe zone of the living room and entered the tiny kitchen area where I was. It only took him three strides to close the distance. “You sure?”
I put my book in front of my body, like somehow paper and ink bound together were going to protect me. “I was running away from you, actually. You were being super annoying. And I was trying to get you to leave me alone.”
He bit back a smile, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“Uh-huh,” he said. “That explains the part where you grabbed me like your life depended on it.”
“I was disoriented.”
“And the part where you said my name? Repeatedly?”
“Oh, did I say something in my sleep?” I feigned innocence. “Sometimes I do that.” I waved a hand dismissively while a shaky laugh escaped me. “It’s nothing, honestly. It’s totally normal.”
Jay leaned a hand on the counter beside me, blocking my only exit path.
“Sure, Amapolita,” he murmured, eyes glimmering. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
He reached a hand toward me, and I thought for sure he was going to touch me, but then he gently clasped the book I was clutching and tugged it from my arms. In my disoriented state, I simply let him take it, watching as he flipped through a few pages, scanning the words.
“You were reading this on the zip-line tour,” he said, a knowing smile appearing on his lips. “The one you ripped out of my hands like it was classified material?”
My eyes narrowed on him. “That romantic part is not all that the book is about, I’ll have you know.”
Jay hummed, clearly unconvinced. His finger paused on a paragraph for a beat before he snapped the book shut and held it out to me.
Our fingers brushed, and my breath hitched. His teasing expression softened, and a genuine curiosity took over his features.
“Is this your favorite book?”
“One of them,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Lindy Parker has written so many of my favorites, though. I couldn’t possibly pick one.”
Jay didn’t say anything in response. His jaw clenched, and I wondered what he could possibly be thinking.
“Do you read?” I suddenly blurted in my nervousness—anything to fill the silence and distract from the couch attack that had happened only minutes ago.
“Sometimes,” he said, his expression remaining steady, giving nothing away. “If I’m in the mood.” He was standing only a few inches away.
It was so quiet I could hear both our breathing.
A few minutes passed, and neither of us said anything at all.
“Hope,” he murmured suddenly, leaning in a bit more, his hand grasping the edge of the sink right behind me. Not touching me, but almost.
“Hm…” I said, daring to meet his eyes, which were so very, very close to mine now.
“Can I ask you a favor?” he asked quietly, almost a whisper.
He still hadn’t touched me, and yet somehow I felt like I was burning up. It was the kind of feeling that made me want to grit my teeth and scream a little. Almost enough to drive me mad.
I resisted the overwhelming desire to close the space between us.
“Sure,” I said, apparently my resolve too flimsy to say no.
I was so conflicted over this man. I wanted to hate him, wanted to stay away from him to protect myself, but another part of me—
“Will you say my name again?”
I stilled, the fire in my veins blazing to another level, melting my brain cells. Say his name?
“Why?” I whispered.
“I don’t really have a good reason,” he admitted, shaking his head.
I paused, then found myself blurting out his name.
“Jay,” I said, hating how wonderful it tasted on my tongue.
His eyes closed, and then, as if he couldn’t stay upright any longer, he leaned forward, his forehead meeting my shoulder. I didn’t move, didn’t dare shift a single muscle. His hair tickled my cheek, and I felt him sigh against me.
It was only for a second. Then the weight of his head lifted, and his lips ever so slightly brushed my ear.
“I don’t know how much longer I can stay away from you.”
It was one thing to allude to whatever this was between us.
But to say it out loud was like an X-ray causing a photoelectric effect—the kind that ionizes an atom and causes direct biological damage.
There was no going back. Things had been rearranged.
Just like those stupid subatomic particles I’d seen in my textbooks.
I shook my head, trying and failing to steady my rapid heartbeat, now thrumming in my ears. “I promise that getting close to me will only make things complicated,” I whispered, the begging tangible in my voice.
“Is complicated so bad?” he questioned, pulling further away and giving me a bit more space.
I was grateful for the momentary distance and felt my lungs finally take in a full breath again.
“Complicated is… well, complicated.” I struggled to find the words to explain rationally why this could never possibly happen between us. The dentist argument was beginning to chip away like crumbling stone on an already withering structure.
Jay chuckled, backing up a few feet now and slipping his hands into his pockets. “I know you have a lot of fears, Hope.” He started toward the stairwell. “I just hope one day I won’t be one of them anymore.”
I wanted to tell him, with absolute certainty, that I wasn’t afraid of him. Convince him and me that I really did believe he would never harm me physically or emotionally. But it wasn’t just about that anymore.
If I were being honest, I liked my job at the clinic. I was starting to regain my confidence. And I really didn’t want to do something that could jeopardize the minuscule amount of stability I’d created here.
I failed to find words to respond to him, and then he was heading back down the stairwell.
“Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” He gave me a small smile, then disappeared to his half of the house.
When I heard the door echo shut down at the base of the stairwell, I reached up, running my hands through my hair and tugging on the strands.
“Ugh,” I let out another mildly unhinged growl of frustration and went to sit on the couch.
I slumped into the cushions, snatched a decorative pillow from beside me, and screamed into it.