Page 62 of The Fire Walker
Jessie
Iwas fallingin love with DeeCosgrove.
It was the little things that got to me. The way he wrote in his notebook. The way he got annoyed when I picked on his spelling. The way he’d tried to protect me from those guys at that bar. The way he’d looked at me that first day at the recording studio. Every time he would do something little, like chew on the end of his pen or not bother tying up the laces on his boots…it made my heartswell.
Then it was the way he talked about music. Like it filled his soul and made his heart beat. Like it was as important as oxygen for his survival. I didn’t think he knew how passionate he was. He was a good guy, kindhearted and funny, and every hurt he took on the chin. Until I’d walked out onhim.
Behind closed doors, he could be this brooding, dominant man, who just took control without warning, and it turned me on. Just thinking about it made me wet. We seemed to have this recurring thing about grinding against walls that got me every singletime.
Dee wasn’t a bad guy. He didn’t have a bad bone in his entire body. He was just hurting, and by the way he was reacting to it, he’d probably never had his heart broken before. I was his scar, his wound.Me.
Last night, when we’d almost kissed, I’d thought about busting into that bathroom and talking to him. The way I saw it, I only had two options. I could just throw myself at him and force him to face me, or I could just give him the God’s honesttruth.
I was going to tell him everything, and when I said everything, I meant every dirty little detail. When I first moved to New York, it wasn’t good. I probably should say I ran away to New York without the support of any friends or family. I just upped and left and never looked back. I should’ve looked back because when you have to live on the street, desperation claws its way to the surface. Desperation was the thing that had gotten me in a whole heap of trouble. I’d ended up broken and terrified and with no one to help me through theaftermath.
Deep down, I knew that was the reason I’d run out on Dee, not the whole professionalism angle I’d been trying to convince myself with. That was only an excuse. I thought I’d moved on and grown and dealt with it all, but obviously, I was lying tomyself.
I don’t know what stopped me from walking in there. Fear that he would judge me for my past mistakes? Fear of rejection? If he actually said it, that he didn’t want me, then it would really be forever. I would never get to talk to him or even touch him again. He would just disappear, and life would go on. There was no moving on from Dee Cosgrove…not forme.
The familiar feeling of desperation was simmering under the surface, and even I didn’t know what I was going todo.
Tomorrow we would be back in New York, and he would leave forever. I couldn’t let that happen. Iwouldn’t.
