Page 87 of Hung Up
“You know you could’ve just texted me this.”
He shrugs. “You weren’t answering your phone.”
I step aside and let him walk in, closing the door behind us. When I turn back to him, I see him scanning my apartment with obvious surprise. My apartment isn’t what most people expect it to be when they visit for the first time.
There are plants hanging from the ceiling and large ones in pots in random spots on the floor, all around the living room. There’s random sketch drawings of plants covering my walls, a giant round mirror above the couch, and pink and yellow accent pieces everywhere. My couch is a pink fabric with a couple fluffy pillows, a matching chair in the corner by the TV stand with a fluffy pink ottoman beside it.
It’s weird having him here in my place. He looks more out of place than a bull in a china shop, yet it seems like he belongs here. Like he’s here to help settle me, to help bring me back to neutral rather than staying stuck in overdrive. I’m about to comment on it, to point out that he seems larger here, when I catch sight of the clock and remember my earlier surprise.
“Why are you here?”
“I told you?—”
“Jesse. You’re supposed to be riding right now.” I shake my head, my brows furrowed as I gaze at him. “Did something happen? Do they do byes in bull-riding and I wasn’t aware of it?”
He sighs, taking a couple of steps toward me but stopping just out of my reach. “I had to see you.”
It comes out so softly that I almost don’t hear him, almost like he’s afraid to admit to me what he did. My eyes widen, the repercussions of his act hitting me so abruptly that I almost stumble back a step as if I had been physically shoved.
“You forfeit your ride to be here?” He nods. “Why would you do that? You might have just kissed your chance at winning the buckle goodbye.”
Closing the space between us, he cups my face between his hands, the look in his eyes holding nothing but admiration and sincerity. “Some things are just more important than my rank in the standings, Sweetheart.”
Jesse Hayes, playboy bull rider extraordinaire, who would sacrifice anything to win that golden buckle, just sacrificed that golden buckle for me.
And it kills me.
“I’m not worth losing the championship, Jesse.” My eyes well with tears, concern mixing in his when he notices. “You’ve worked so hard for this for so long, you can’t throw that all away now.”
“I can and I will.” The determination in his tone makes me realize how weak I feel at this moment. “It’s like I told the guys, none of it matters if you’re not there. I’ve been chasing this dream for years, alone. And I was okay with that—until you walked into my life and turned my world upside down. Suddenly, a good ride didn’t matter unless you were there to see it. While I’ve been stubborn about riding when my ribs are broken, that is more about feeling weak than it is about anything else. But I meant it when I told you I would quit if that’s what it took to be with you, Sweetheart. I don’t care about that stupid buckle anymore. I care about you.”
My bottom lip quivers as I prepare for what I’m about to say next. “I don’t want you giving up your career for me. I don’t want you giving anything up for me. You’d only regret it one day.”
“I’d never?—”
“I need you to let me get through this, okay?” He sighs, but he eventually nods. “If we were to do this and stay together after the finals are over, you’d love being with me at first. I’m fun and outgoing and open to anything. I love trying new things and going on adventures, but I also love the quiet, intimate moments of just cooking dinner together or watching a movie.”
I take a deep breath, my gaze shifting to look at my feet. “But one day, I’m going to become too predictable. I’ll get boring.” I reconnect our gazes, giving him a sad smile. “I’ll get angry over the little things and pick fights. I’ll become too anxious and be overbearing, or I’ll slip into my seasonal depression and be a burden. Work might consume so much of my time for a few weeks, where you barely see me and feel like you’re in a long-distance relationship. I won’t be as tidy, and I’ll get lazy, and the dishes and the laundry will pile up. And one day, you’ll realize it’s no longer easy to love me and regret giving up any pieces of your life.”
“Faith, Sweetheart?—”
“God,” I laugh, tilting my head to look at my ceiling for a brief moment. “Haven’t you had enough?”
“Of you? Never.” He takes my hand in one of his own, the other pushing a loose curl behind my ear. “Baby, whoever made you believe that you weren’t worthy of love through all those down times, whoever made you feel like you were too hard to love, never had to work for yours.”
My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“Faith, I’ve seen firsthand, felt it for myself, what you’re willing to do for those you care about. I’ve witnessed what you do when you receive any kind of love from somebody.” My lip finds itself wedged between my teeth, and his thumb comes up to capture it, pulling it loose. “When I gave you flowers and notes, when I made you happy, you showed up for me in a way that I so desperately needed. When I fell off, when I messed up and hurt you, you pulled back. But when I kept trying to fix the mess I created, you started warming back up to me again. It’s so clear to me that every guy who came before me gave up when things got difficult. Didn’t care enough to try and help you through those down moments or hard times. That’s not a reflection on you, Sweetheart. It’s a reflection on them.”
Tears had begun to well in my eyes as he spoke, and they finally found their way down my cheeks. Hearing someone else tell me it wasn’t my fault, tell me so confidently that I’m not hard to love, seems to heal so many scars I hadn’t realized I wore so plainly. His words salve the cracks on my heart, putting the pieces I’d hidden away into the full picture.
“And I’m sorry they made you feel that way, but in a fucked up way, I’m glad they did.” One brow shoots up, the other furrowing. “If they hadn’t, I never would’ve had to work for you. And if I didn’t have to work for you, I wouldn’t have grown in the ways I have. And if they hadn’t dropped the ball, I wouldn’t have been lucky enough to get to love you in the first place.”
I tip my head up, capturing his lips in mine in a slow, heartfelt kiss, praying that it portrays all the words that seem to be clogged in my throat. For so long, I have just been going through the motions, shutting myself off from the possibility of anyone loving me and loving them in return. But Jesse didn’t just open my eyes to what I had been missing by not allowing anyone into my life; he reignited that flame within myself I had let be snuffed out.
He has single-handedly put me back together and restored that version of myself I had allowed to disappear all those years ago.
“Rylie told me about what’s going on at work,” he says once we pull away, resting his forehead-on mine for a brief second before pulling back just enough to look me in the eye, our noses brushing against one another. “That your assignment is at risk. I know how hard you’ve worked for this, how much of yourself you’ve poured into trying to make this something amazing, and I can’t take that away from you. I know better than anyone how important a career can be and what you would do to succeed in it. So if we need to end things until the season is over so you can finish what you started, then that’s what we’ll do.”
