Page 76 of The Love Playbook

But here I am anyway. Sad. Miserable. Alone and lonely.

And here’s Jackson telling me it doesn’t have to be this way, saying all the words to soothe the worst of my fears—that he wants me, chaos and all. That his feelings are more substantial than the promise of guaranteed sex.

It can’t last, though …

Even if I give in, even if I let myself love him back—because the truth is, I do. I have for a while. Maybe since that first night we went out with his endearing blushes and obvious nerves and the way he fought through all of it. Or maybe it was how attentive he is. Or maybe it’s when he organized my room without batting an eye and told me he just wanted to help me be the best version of myself …

The painful, hard-to-face truth is that I’ve been in love with Jackson for a while now. It snuck up on me, sinking in its claws slowly while I wasn’t paying attention.

And even if it won’t last, even if we eventually grow apart, or he moves far away and I’m left behind …

I can’t imagine I’ll be any more miserable then than I am right now. And I don’thaveto continue being miserable right now.

“I—” I swallow hard and take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Jackson.”

His face falls. He’s clearly expecting the worst. And who can blame him? I’ve done nothing but push him away as soon as he started to get close.

“I’m sorry for pushing you away and trying to minimize your feelings. The truth is”—another deep breath, and I can’t look him in the eyes—“the truth is that this is scary to me. Relationships, feelings”—I wave my hands around—“all of it. I saw how devastated my parents were when they divorced, and I don’t want to end up like that. I’m happy for everyone else to have it, but when confronted with it myself?” I risk a glance at him. He’s patient and still as ever, but his eyes shine with intensity as he listens closely to me.

And isn’t that the scariest part? The way he pays so much attention to me. Heseesme. Not just as some hippie woo chick who likes crystals and reads tarot at parties and dyes her hair fun colors. No, he sees through all of that to my essence. Andthat’sthe part that frightens me the most.

But also, isn’t that what makes a relationship worthwhile? Isn’t that what I’ve been missing and wishing I could find all along? Deep connection. Deep understanding.

And with Jackson, I have it. All I have to do is open my hands and grab on.

“I love you too,” I whisper. “I thought by ending things sooner, I could avoid the pain of a breakup later. But instead, I just …” I throw my hands in the air. “I just feel miserable now. And I hate it.” I raise my eyes to his. “I’m so sorry, Jackson. I know I’ve made you miserable as well.” I swallow hard, wanting to ask the next question, but dreading it at the same time. He did come here, though. And he said he loves me and he’s stayed away to stop himself from begging for another chance. So I mean …

“Would you, um, would you like to try again? For real this time? No rules about how often we can see each other or keeping our feelings to ourselves. Just you and me, and we see where it goes?”

He lets out a harsh breath and sits forward like he might reach for me, but he stops himself. “God, I just want to grab you and drag you into my lap, but you’re hurt. And I don’t want to hurt you.”

“How about this, then?” I scoot closer to him, then climb onto his lap so I’m straddling him, his hands landing on my hips to guide me.

He crushes me against him, but gently, his hand supporting my head as he brings my mouth to his. I feel him vibrating with self-restraint, and I hate that he feels the need to do that while also appreciating it. Because while the oil and massage have helped, my neck and head still don’t feel great.

All too soon he ends the kiss—he didn’t even use tongue!—and hugs me against his torso.

“That’s it?” I ask, aware that I sound pouty. I’m not even trying to stop it. “The most chaste kiss in history is how we seal our reunion?”

He laughs, shaking my body as well. “You’re hurt, Autumn. I promise I’d love nothing more than to maul you, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“I know.” He kisses my temple. “And when you are, then I’ll fuck your brains out. I promise.”

A shiver runs through me at his words, which provokes another chuckle. I can’t believe the shy, blushing virgin has turned into this dirty talker who wants to take the lead. But I can’t wait to find out how far he might want to go now that all our feelings are in the game too. “For now,” he murmurs, “can we go lie down in your bed? You should rest. I’ll stay with you as long as you want and get you anything you need, okay?”

At my soft, “Okay,” he cinches his arms tighter around me.

“Hang on,” he murmurs, scooting to the edge of the couch and standing. He carries me to my room and gently deposits me on the bed.

“What do you need?” he asks once I’m horizontal. “More pillows? Another ice pack?”

I hold out a hand to him. “Just you.”

His face breaks into the most beautiful smile. He strips out of his shirt and jeans after toeing off his shoes and climbs in with me, gathering me gently against him.

I let out a contented sigh. “Thank you.”

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