Chapter 20 Jesse
JESSE
I dropped the phone onto the bed, the weight of it suddenly more than I could hold.
So this was it – this was what it felt like.
Before now, before Hestia, I’d always been the one to walk away, to break up and cut my losses in relationships before anything real happened.
Guarding myself was natural, I figured. Watching Mom for all that time alone; catching those moments when she thought we were asleep, her head in her hands in the kitchen, tears pooling on the chipped plastic tabletop.
Me, fucking helpless, as my whole chest caved in with the hurt on her behalf, hating the asshole who’d called himself my father for barely six years, before leaving . . . for good.
Mom was the victim of having loved someone who didn’t deserve it, a man who’d walked away from all four of us.
My sisters were old enough to remember when it happened.
The tears she had shed during our childhood had hardened into frown lines and pursed lips as we grew older, the silence of forced restraint rather than peace.
But now, for the first time in my damn life, I understood it. What it felt like to have your heart ripped out, to see the love you’d offered up be tossed aside like trash.
I folded over at the waist, the pain from my wrist streaking white-hot fire up my arm. But for the first time in a week, I couldn’t feel it. Not over the pain in my fucking chest.
But this . . . this wasn’t the Hestia I’d come to know, was it? The person I’d felt, held, kissed . . . the one who’d looked at me like she was finally able to trust a man, to see me – the real me, right in the fucking core of my bones.
What if this was the real her? The one in London who’d fallen back into bed, into life with her ex? Back in love with him?
The hope that’d welled up from her messages, the hours spent contemplating whether to risk it – all of that collapsed in on itself. Even looking up London flights, ready to back out of the rodeo . . . for nothing. For something that had clearly just been in my head.
Fucking tears, more fucking tears formed and fell in silence. I was a wreck, a goddamn burnt-out shell.
And even now, even like this . . . I still loved her. It was the clearest part of my vision in the chaos.
The ranch house was quiet, but it was only a matter of time before someone would come back in and I’d have to snap out of it, act like I was coping.
Gulping air, bracing myself against the bed with my good arm, I made a list of the shit I needed to do before leaving for the rodeo.
I’d get up, get some cold water on my face and then pick something to –
My phone rang and I whipped round to grab it . . . then realized it wasn’t her. I stared at the screen, crushed under an ache so fucking heavy that I had to take a few seconds before I could trust my voice.
‘Yeah?’ I said, tapping the button, listening as my brother-in-law launched into a sales pitch. He was making way too much effort to get me to agree to go to the rodeo a couple of days early with him and his buddies.
‘Dean,’ I sighed, trying so damn hard to sound as though I wasn’t something to worry about, to confirm his thoughts that Clara was overreacting about my mental state. ‘I’ll go to the rodeo early, quit it already. Want me to go to the grocery store and pick up some stuff to take with us?’
He laughed, undeniable relief winding through the sound.
‘I knew it, man. I told your sister it’d take more than some random British chick to take you down and out. Don’t forget the beers, okay? It’s time we put shit right over a few cold ones.’
The call ended soon after, silence returning.
Some random British chick. I ran my fingers through my hair, wincing. How could something, someone as precious as Hestia just be . . . dismissed in that way? Like she didn’t have the power to fucking shred me inside.
But I knew it wasn’t Dean’s fault, or any of them. I’d built the wall they saw and worked hard to maintain it. The fact that there was a fucking huge hole in the middle of it was for me alone to know.
There would be plenty of time to pack in the next couple of days, but the moment I heard Lottie and Bailey downstairs, it felt like the perfect time to get to the grocery store. I knew I was hiding, knew that they’d know that too; but right now, it was all I had.
‘Jesse?’
Fuck.
‘Yeah?’ I replied, turning to see the familiar concern in every angle of Lottie’s face, mirrored in Bailey’s behind her.
‘We’re going down to Shelby’s later. There’s a band that Cole was saying . . . Jesse?’
I turned away, unable to hold my gaze on her, hear the accent, without thinking of Hestia and seeing her in my mind. The last thing I wanted to do was make Lottie feel bad, but I had to leave.
‘Nah, you go on ahead, I’m gonna sit it out,’ I murmured, giving them both a small nod as I opened the front door, a rush of warm, grass-sweetened air washing over us.
‘How long you gonna keep sitting out?’ Bailey asked, stepping forward, one hand on her hip, a calculated expression forming. ‘It’s not gonna help or bring her back.’
Mouth half open to respond, I started walking as the words landed.
‘I’ll sit it out until I give a fuck about music, or nights in a bar, or anything else again,’ I replied, taking the porch steps two at a time.
‘Jesse, she didn’t mean to—’ Lottie began as Bailey cut her off.
‘The hell I didn’t! Jesse Bennington, get your mopey ass over to that bar later. You might not give a fuck, but we do. Don’t make me drag you in there!’
I almost smiled, keeping my head down as I half turned back, flipping her off. She chuckled.
‘That’s settled, then. Eight p.m., cowboy.’
Bailey was many things, but easy-going and forgiving were not two of them.
That was why, just after eight, I forced myself to keep my word and ended up in among a whole bunch of them.
With Bailey on one side and Jace on the other, swept up in the rodeo talk and holding a beer in my hand, it almost felt normal, until .
. . Lottie and Cole. The way they moved around each other, like he was her gravity and she his, eyes constantly meeting, hands touching or wandering across each other’s bodies.
It was painful to watch, to feel.
Knocking back the rest of my beer, I gestured with my empty bottle to the rest of them and the bar in the background beyond, taking a couple of orders from those running low.
Finding a space between the seated regulars and the groups of out-of-towners, I placed my order, glad for the relief of stepping away from everyone I knew.
‘Wait, let me guess,’ a voice to my right sounded.
I stifled my frustration, desperate to be left alone.
‘Guess what?’ I asked, turning my head to my right, recognition dawning as Chrissy sidled up with one of her friends.
I gave them both a small smile. She looked as she always had, a little ray of sunshine in a pair of boots, all fluffy blonde curls and glossed lips – an undeniably pretty smile.
One that widened the longer my eyes lingered on her.
‘You’ve ordered a bourbon, neat, of course.’ She paused, holding a finger to her chin for a moment. ‘With a little ice, not too much though.’
I tilted my head, my smile becoming sheepish as my drink and the couple of others arrived. She giggled, glancing back at her friend, who, with one more look at me, wandered off into the crowd.
‘Some things never change, right?’ she said softly, only just audible over the music as she stepped up to me.
I shrugged, paying for my drink and then taking a sip.
She gestured to me, wanting to try it, something she’d done when we’d been together.
It was something I’d always found cute about her .
. . and 100 per cent a tactic to get me to look at her lips.
I handed her the drink without a word, not quite knowing why, watching as she grasped it with long nails shaped .
. . like Hestia’s always were. Sharpened to points, painted darker than I’d ever seen Chrissy wear, in fact.
‘Wyoming whiskey, right?’ she asked, smiling up at me from under her lashes as I nodded.
‘Yeah, last one to take the edge off before we head up to Livingston Peak. You coming up for the rodeo?’
She pouted for a moment, handing back the glass, fingers lingering on mine. We locked eyes, hers almost pleading, just as they had when I’d called it off months ago.
‘I wanted to, but Danny didn’t have room in the truck with the rest of the team, and Jeanie’s car’s in the shop. Some engine thing got busted up.’
She shrugged and rolled her eyes at my incredulous look, trying not to laugh at her lack of car knowledge.
It’d always tickled me that her family were all car mechanics or racers – both, for some of them – but she’d somehow avoided all the shop talk, resolutely staying clear of cars as a life path for herself.
It made me realize, in that moment, that there’d been nothing wrong with me and Chrissy – it was all in my head. She was cute, kind and funny, eager to please.
‘Well, you can come on up with me if you like? I was gonna go up with Dean on Friday, but his truck was looking kinda full, so I was thinking of driving anyway, bit more room to spread out. You barely fill up a whole seat, so I reckon I can tuck you into my cab.’
She giggled, swatting my arm, but instead of the small rush of fun that I’d always felt from flirting, there was .
. . nothing. I could see it, the whole situation.
Her in that cute shirt and skirt, hand on my arm as she moved closer, my wariness making her double down on her efforts, just like she used to do.
‘Just you and me?’ she asked, moving her hand down onto the top of my jeans, finger skirting over my belt.
‘Why not,’ I agreed, her smile in response curdling my insides with guilt. The fuck was I doing? Giving her hope now, after all this time, when I had no intention of—
All thoughts gave way to nothing as she reached up, hand on my face, and . . . kissed me. Her lips pressed into me, forming a question, the answer slow as I scrambled to make sense of what was happening. That it wasn’t Hestia.
Hestia.
As if she heard it, Chrissy pulled back.
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ she murmured, putting a finger to her lips.
‘Chrissy,’ I began, needing her to know, not wanting her to think—
‘It’s fine. I know what’s happened,’ she replied, searching my face for a moment, her smile fading to nothing. ‘I know she left and you’re not yourself. Bailey told me as much. But I don’t care. I’m still here, Jesse.’
There was a silence between us, despite the music and the noise of the crowd around us. I could feel how easy this would be, to just fall straight back into whatever we’d had; maybe just let it unfold, even though the balance would never be right between us.
‘I better get these drinks to everyone,’ I said instead, reaching back to the bar, downing the rest of my drink in one. The memory of fireballs flashed right behind my eyes. ‘But I’ll pick you up on Friday. Say, ten?’
She nodded, her nails gently grazing my arm as I stepped away from the bar. I felt the weight of her stare all the way back to the group.