I remember the last time I heard that name leave his lips. It was right before my dad stormed into my room and kicked Jessie out on his heels.
“Nobody’s life is perfect,” I whisper. “Look at mine. My mom was killed by a drunk driver, and my overbearing dad tries to run my life for me.”
“I know.” He blows out a breath. “And trust me, that’s why you don’t need me around you. You’ve been through more thanthe average twenty-two-year-old, and I’m not about to invite you into my nightmare.”
His hand hasn’t moved from the side of my face, and I reach up, placing my palm over his. He dwarfs me in size.
“You can’t hide away forever, Jessie. Human beings aren’t meant to be solitary.”
“No, you’re right; they’re not. But nothing about my past or present is humane.” He shifts closer, his breath tickling my lips. “I’m still working on my future.”
“Let me help you. Let me be your friend,” I plead quietly. “Don’t shut me out, Jessie.”
He wets his lips and then casts his eyes to my mouth. “You want to be my friend?”
“Always. Why do you think I came to Whistler that day? I care about you.”
When he squeezes his eyes shut, I know he’s fighting something.
“You smell insanely good.”
“I do?”
He nods his head. “Just like I remember.”
I pluck at my shirt and inhale the strawberry fabric softener. “I started using a new brand.”
“No. You, your smell. The way it makes me feel so many things. I can’t describe it, but it’s just … you.”
“What emotions, Jessie?”
His tongue peeks out and runs across his bottom lip. “Safe. But also out of control, and that scares the shit out of me because I know how easy it would be for me to take what I want and say to hell with the consequences.”
My heart thunders in my chest.
So much of me wants to kiss him, but the teenage Mia screams from the back of my mind to stop. Too many sleeplessnights and unanswered texts should have been proof enough that Jessie is no good for me, for my heart.
But I so want him to kiss me. To take us back to the time we once shared.
My uncertainty must have found its way to my expression as he drops his hand from my face and pulls back slightly.
“We should head out for those pancakes before your roommate wakes up.”
He goes to stand from the bed, but I grab his hand at the final second.
“When you saidworking on your future, do you mean you’re trying to get better?”
I’m not an idiot. I know his drinking is more of a self-medication for the pain he must be feeling. He pretty much admitted that last night.
He closes his eyes. “Yeah, I’m working on it. Just a lot going on in my head, Mia.”
I nod. I know he isn’t bullshitting me. Jessie might’ve withheld a lot of details from me, but this is the furthest I’ve ever gotten. Still, I feel like if we hadn’t been interrupted last night, he might’ve told me more about his past.
“I’m not the fragile flower you think I am, you know? You can talk to me about even your darkest parts.”
I want to tell him after my mom died, I went through a cycle of depression, and I want to tell him when he left, I went right back there.
But that’s not what he needs to hear. Jessie needs to hear that he’s a good person—because he is. He rains enough judgment down on himself.