Page 16 of I Saw Her First

My chest fills with an unusual cocktail of emotions. Jesse behaved like an asshole tonight, but she still cares about him. She wants him to be happy, like I do. At least we can agree on that.

He’s a lucky guy.

“I won’t,” I say, my voice hoarse.

She slips from the room and I drop my head into my hands, trying to make sense of the sensations swirling through me. Of the fact that the woman I was intending to make mine—as recently as a few days ago—has gone upstairs to do God knows what with my son, instead.

Then I hate myself for even having that thought. She’s good for Jesse. I mean, of course she is—she’d be good for anyone. She’s a fucking ray of sunshine. And my son needs that more than I do right now. I’m glad he has that.

Even if it means I won’t get it for myself.

7

Daisy

“Jess?” At the top of the stairs I give a tentative knock on what I assume to be Jesse’s door. “It’s me. Can I come in?”

The door opens, and he pulls me into his arms, sighing. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he murmurs into the top of my head, kicking the door shut behind me. “My dad drives me crazy.” He flops down onto his huge king-sized bed, sitting in the middle of the spacious room. There’s a sofa along one wall, a desk, and a large TV with three different video game consoles plugged in. The roof slopes down as it leads to the bathroom at the rear, and I imagine Jesse has to duck when he crosses to that side of the room.

I perch on the edge of his bed, trying to be diplomatic. “I think he worries about you.”

Jess shakes his head, his anger gathering momentum again. “He completely infantilizes me.Did you thank Daisy?,” he mimics, raising his eyes to the ceiling. “I’m not a fucking child.”

For the first time since we started dating, I feel a stab of irritation toward Jesse. He might not be a child, but he’s sure acting like one.

I take a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “You’re not a child, no, but he’s your dad. He’s always going to want to look out for you. That’s his job.”

Jesse’s jaw is hard as he gazes at me, but he lets his breath out slowly and softens, reaching for me. I let him tug me down into his arms.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmurs, brushing his lips over my forehead. “I like having you close.”

I press my nose to his shirt. I might be physically close, but it’s beginning to feel like the more time I spend with Jesse, the less close we are. We know so little about each other—about the things that really matter.

And if this is going to become something real, that needs to change.

“You’re lucky your dad cares so much,” I say quietly. “I don’t even speak to my parents anymore.” He leans away to gaze at me. “It’s complicated, but… we’ve never really gotten along. They want me to be someone I’m not, and they were cruel and hurtful when I was at my lowest point. I cut off contact with them, and I hardly ever see my brother, either.”

Jesse’s brows dip in concern. “I had no idea.”

“I know.” I push the hair back from his forehead. “Just like I had no idea about your mom.”

He lets his gaze fall to his hand, stroking a gentle pattern across my arm.

“I get why you didn’t tell me,” I add gently. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

He glances up. “You do?”

I nod. “I lost my best friend when I was seventeen.”

He sucks in a shocked breath. I don’t talk about this, ever. It changed the trajectory of my life in unimagined ways, and I’ll never forgive my parents for the way they handled the most traumatic event of my life.

I take Jesse’s hand and squeeze. “If we’re going to be together, we should tell each other this stuff. We can’t get to know each other if we don’t.”

He nods slowly. “You’re right. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Me too.” I pause, wanting to ask more about his relationship with his dad, but sensing now is not the right time to push him.

Instead, I lean in and brush my mouth across his. What starts as a chaste kiss builds in intensity, but when Jesse’s hand strays to my breast, I draw back.

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