20. CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY
Wes
T he ride back is quiet, and I don’t know what to make of it. Everything felt pretty normal between us once we settled in around the fire. Sitting with Joss’s feet draped over the arm of her chair so they rested in my lap. Laughing with my friends. Eating delicious food and talking about all the surfing we’ve been doing. She never once flinched away from my casual touches.
Yet there’s been a distance between us since she left me sitting by the fire. Maybe Talia pushed her Hallmark-movie meant-to-be bullshit like she did with me while I got our food. She doesn’t seem to understand that that just isn’t our reality, no matter the feelings I’m having to squash down more and more often. The ones screaming that maybe it could be .
By the time we make it up the elevator and the doors slide open on our floor, I can’t take the silence between us anymore. I thought I played off the incident after the shower well, I thought we were okay, but maybe we aren’t. Maybe she’s more upset about it than she’s letting on.
“Joss?” There’s a tentativeness to my voice that I’m unfamiliar with. I’m not used to feeling unsure of myself.
“Hmm?” She glances briefly over her shoulder before continuing down the hall. The tired look in her eyes almost conceals that there’s something more brewing beneath the surface. Almost.
“Can we talk? Please.” I stop her with my hand on her elbow and turn her toward me. Her shoulders are hunched and she won’t look at me. Her posture looks almost defeated, and my heart wrenches in my chest.
“Wes, I’m really tired. Can we do this tomorrow?”
A pit in my stomach yawns open at the thought of leaving things this way, of going to bed tonight not knowing where we stand. My brain knows that if it doesn’t happen tonight, it might not happen at all.
“Joss. Please.” She looks up at me, our eyes finally meeting. That look I couldn’t place before… I think it’s sadness. Whatever she sees in my face makes her soften a little and she nods, stopping at my door when we reach it.
I let us into my apartment, eyes catching on the wine right where she left it on the counter. Just before she walked in on me naked. Fuck. I run my hand through my hair at the thought.
She walks straight to my couch and collapses onto it. Pulling a pillow into her lap and facing the center, she leans back against the arm rest. I feel a little relieved that, whatever’s going on, she’s still comfortable here in my space. I join her, sitting on the opposite side of the couch. Everything in my body tells me to grab on to her and never let go, but I give her space.
“Is this about earlier?”
Joss speaks at the same time, saying, “Why didn’t you tell me about Brenna?” in a similarly rushed breath.
My laugh at us talking over each other chokes off in my throat as her words register. Why didn’t you tell me about Brenna?
Why in the world would she want to know about Brenna? How does she even know about Brenna? This is why she’s been quiet? It’s not about earlier. It’s about her .
I glance around, looking for a fire, or maybe a volcano—some explanation for the burning pit I just fell into. I want to crawl out of my skin. It suddenly feels too tight, uncomfortable, squeezing the breath out of my lungs. My heart unable to beat like it should.
Dammit, Talia.
“It’s not her fault,” Joss says. “She assumed I knew.”
I guess I said that last thought out loud.
“No, Joss, I don’t think she did.” Even to my ears, my voice sounds foreign and curt. I’ve never been angry around Joss, but I can’t keep my emotions in check right now. I scrub at my face, as if that will somehow dissipate the overwhelming anxiety taking over my body at hearing her name.
I physically can’t sit still as my mind reels. Shoving off the couch, I only just notice Joss’s flinch. I can’t breathe the way I could a minute ago. It’s like Brenna’s name being spoken in this space, where it’s never been before, has suddenly changed the air .
Shit. I’m on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. It’s been a while since I’ve had one, and the realization only fuels the inferno. I stride to the patio door and swing it open, gulping down the cold air as it whips around my face. Thinking of her brings that time in my life back in a way that nothing else can. Not even talking about the crash with Joss hit me like this.
I think I hear Joss’s voice, but it sounds quiet, like she’s talking to me from underwater.
Just breathe, Wes.
There’s a trickle of awareness that punctures the fog.
Hands.
On my back.
My breaths are still too fast, but I register the feeling of a soft caress up and down my spine. I think she’s counting, but her voice still sounds too far away. I try to match my breaths to the rhythm of her hands. Inhale as they run up my spine, exhale as they run down. Four counts in each direction. The first few breaths feel stuttered and shallow, but I eventually slow them down, focusing on nothing but the feel of her. Joss.
“You’re okay, Wes. You’re safe here.”
Am I safe here? I’ve felt like I was this whole time, but damn… If simply hearing Brenna’s name can send me into a panic attack, am I really safe anywhere? I take a measured step back, my eyes still closed tight, all my focus going into keeping my breaths even. Arms wrap around my middle, Joss’s small body pressing into the back of mine.
The image of a koala wrapped around a tree flashes in my mind. Maybe my brain isn’t broken if that’s what it’s conjuring up at this moment .
She stands there, holding me close. I have no words for the gratitude I have for her at this moment. The only other person who’s witnessed me in this state is Rory, and though she was as helpful as she could be, I think I prefer Joss’s methods better.
“Well—” I break off as my throat catches around the raw emotion running through my body. My mouth feels sticky and my throat is dry. I swallow and try again. “When I said we should talk, this was not how I saw the conversation going.”
There you go, Wes, deflect with humor. I can feel her smile against my back, but she doesn’t laugh. I turn in her arms, needing to see her—even if it’s pity I’ll see written on her face.
But when I open my eyes and look down at her, it’s only concern and care staring back.
“I’m sorry, Wes, I shouldn’t have—”
I cut her off with a finger to her lips. God, they’re soft. I appreciate their ability to distract me, if only for a second.
“No, it’s not your fault, you had no idea I’d react that way. Fuck, I had no idea I’d react that way.” The air I attempt to blow out of my lungs is stilted and weak. “Can we sit? I need to sit.”
Her arms loosen, but instead of letting her go, I just collapse into the patio chair, taking her with me so that she’s sitting across my lap. It creaks and groans under our weight, and I send up a prayer that it holds strong. This is not the friendliest position, but I’m not ready to let go of her comfort yet.
“Hearing her name caught me off guard,” I say, trying to play it off .
I look at Joss’s furrowed brow and feel the moment tilt and expand. I want her to understand. Resting against the back of the chair, I find myself wishing for the starry sky in Tahoe.
“Brenna…” I barely get her name out, my voice shaking over the two syllables. It’s the first time I’ve said it in so long, and it feels like acid on my tongue. I clear my throat and start again. “Brenna was my girlfriend, which I’m guessing Talia told you. Did she tell you what happened?”
“She told me she left… after the crash. After Bobby.”
I snort out a sardonic laugh.
“Yeah, I guess that’s true. But that’s not the whole story.” I can’t look at her while I talk about this, so I just keep staring out at the skyline. “I haven’t let myself think about her much less talk about her since she left. Fuck, why is this so hard?”
I squeeze my eyes closed and focus on the soft feel of her fingers trailing across my chest. Back and forth, back and forth. Soft and supportive, just like when I opened up about Bobby. Remembering how safe she made me feel then keeps me going.
“I never wanted a girlfriend. Being in a relationship had never appealed to me. I moved around too much, and my parents were far from a glowing example. But being the only single pilot in our squadron was lonely, and I was staring down the barrel of another deployment. Everyone would be getting packages and letters and calendar squares from their significant others, and I just… I didn’t want to do it alone. Again.”
I wish I could skip all of this, but it needs to be said. I want Joss to understand .
“Brenna just kind of happened. I’m not proud of it, but I started dating her because it was convenient, and she loved the idea of being there for me in those ways. I didn’t see the cracks at first. Like how we functioned better as a couple when we were oceans apart. Then Bobby…” I have to clear my throat again as it catches on his name. Joss hears it and gives me a nod, encouraging me to go on.
“When Bobby died and I was flown to the hospital in Hawaii, she didn’t come. That should have been the breaking point. I went through three surgeries and was there long enough to start PT. Breck came. Rory came. Even my egotistical, self-centered parents came. She always had an excuse.”
The tension in Joss’s face does little to mask the fury behind her eyes. If she’s mad now, it will only get worse.
“Something that started as a convenience had turned into me relying on her support. She was different when I finally made it home though. I couldn’t fly for the first six months because of my injuries, but she was always pushing me to get back in the jet. Like it was a bike that I needed to get back on. It was always veiled as encouragement, support, but I see it now for what it was.” My lip curls in disgust, the words tasting sour in my mouth.
Sitting here with a quiet Joss in my lap, her hand on my chest and empathy on her face, highlights the difference between true support and the warped version I got from Brenna.
“I only made it back up in a jet once. Due to my struggles with PTSD and a few of the lingering issues with my knee, flying didn’t feel the same. I couldn’t do it anymore. When I told her that I was done flying, at least in the capacity she knew, she told me I was a coward.” I have to hold back a flinch at the word. “She said she couldn’t be with a man who would give up on his dreams so easily.”
Fuck, it hurts to remember how quickly it became apparent that she was with me for all the wrong reasons. She wanted the prestige that came with my career, but she didn’t really want me .
“That last tether of support suddenly snapped. It was good that I was already done flying because I spiraled even worse after that. I’d trusted her, needed her at the worst time in my life, and she abandoned me. Her leaving solidified for me that people will tell you that they love you whether they mean it or not. That trusting someone to take care of your heart is foolish.”
My brain is a wreck, struggling against these ideas even as I say them aloud for the first time. Is this really how I feel? Do I believe this still? That solid wall I built feels on the verge of collapse, and I’m not sure what to do with that.
“I’d just lost my best friend, the career I loved. Losing my girlfriend and the support that went with it right after was the universe solidifying those beliefs. It fucked with my head, and I developed some trust issues. Obviously.” I stop and laugh sardonically, but Joss remains silent, still rubbing my chest in that soothing motion. “I haven’t gone on a single date since. I swore off relationships and decided it was best to learn to take care of myself rather than be vulnerable with someone like that again.”
Joss pauses her movements. God, I just word-vomited all over her. I tilt my head slightly only to find silent tears tracking down her face.
“Hey.” I brush my thumb across her cheek, catching one as it slides down toward her mouth. “I’m okay. I know it might not seem like it after that, but I am. And if she hadn’t done what she did, I wouldn’t be here now.”
“I’m sorry, Wes. I’m just so sorry.” Joss buries her face in my chest, sniffles rocking her whole body. I know she doesn’t like for me to see her cry—for anyone to see her cry—so this is oddly the most comforting thing she could do. Like she’s giving me a small piece of herself. I wrap my arms tighter around her, a silent thank-you.
“What do you have to be sorry for, sweetheart? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I brought her up. I was jealous and mad that you hadn’t told me about her, even though I had no right to be.”
I know there shouldn’t be a swooping feeling in my stomach at hearing her admit she’s jealous.
“Joss, you have no reason to be. She couldn’t hold a candle to you if she tried. And I wasn’t exactly keeping it from you. Like I said, I just don’t talk about her, period.”
She sits back, eyes clearer, and I can only hope I haven’t said too much. I never know when I’ll end up on the wrong side of the flirtatious friendship and outright attraction line these days.
“Can I ask you a question?” She hesitates, biting her lip. “You don’t have to answer. I don’t want to make it worse.”
My body tenses, and she must see the nerves cross my face. Her delicate hand reaches up to brush across my cheek and then her thumb presses between my furrowed brows.
“What caused the panic just now? Was it just Brenna or… something more?” She drops her hand, her fingers fiddling in her lap, pulling nervously at the hem of her sweater .
I cover them with mine, lacing our fingers together. “I think she was the trigger. I wasn’t expecting her name to come up, so that was a shock, but under other circumstances, it might have been different.”
“Other circumstances?”
Now it’s her brow that furrows, confusion marring her beautiful features. Here goes nothing.
“Things have been a bit tense between us tonight. After… earlier.” Heat rises in my body as it remembers the way she felt pressed against me. “I could feel you pulling away from me in the car. There was a distance between us that hasn’t been there since we became friends. I’ve been playing off what happened, but the worry that my stupidity earlier was going to take you from me had me on edge. And then to hear her name on your lips, to know that she was part of what created that chasm between us, that I could lose you because of her … Yeah. It rattled me.”
My heart rate ratchets up again, that same panic rising like it did earlier. I can’t lose Joss.
“You panicked because of me?” Her voice is quiet. Her eyes are locked where our hands are twined in her lap.
I reach my free hand to lift her chin, forcing us eye to eye. Grey to blue.
“No, Joss. I panicked because I don’t want to lose you.” The lines are becoming blurrier the more I talk, the tighter I hold her in my arms.
I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’m not a fighter pilot. I’m not in the Navy. How can I be something more for someone when I don’t even know myself? That’s why I’m here, right? I can’t be what Joss needs. I’m not enough for her. She deserves so much more than the broken shell of a man that I’ve become.
I’m sure I’ve said too much, sure she can see all my thoughts written on my face. That she’ll run from the wreck that I am. She surprises me with a smile. A smile . It’s such a small gesture, but everything in me loosens. I’m hanging on tenterhooks for what she’ll say, if she’ll let me in on whatever has put that look on her face. I never know with this girl.
“I’ll never be able to understand how she could leave you.” Her smile morphs into something mischievous and playful.
That’s definitely not what I was expecting.
“Especially now that I’ve seen you naked.” She draws out the last word and wiggles her eyebrows. She’s teasing, and I am so grateful for her in this moment.
My head falls back as I laugh.
If you’d asked me when I walked out here, mid–panic attack, if I’d be laughing just a short while later, I would have said you were crazy. Joss is laughing now too, and the sound does something to my heart. It’s like a balm to all the shattered and bruised places I’ve been trying to mend for the last year.