A small smile was a start. And he was communicating with me, real words and all. I’d take it. His gaze shifted, just over my shoulder, and those sky blue eyes went as black as they could go.
I didn’t need to look behind me. I knew a black felt hat was back there somewhere.
Jesse lifted his chin. “Garth’s over there if you want to dance with him.” I stepped back again from the ice in his tone.
“And what if I want to dance with you?” I said, managing to sound braver than I felt. “What if you do?” Still the ice, but I wouldn’t back down. I wouldn’t let him push me away so easily. I owed him an explanation, and I wasn’t leaving until he had it.
“Would you want to?” I asked. There was so much between the lines in that question, I almost winced just anticipating his answer.
“That depends.” His eyes continued to glare holes into the back or front of Garth. I wasn’t sure, and I wouldn’t look over my shoulder to find out. “Are you planning on having a little campout at Garth Black’s trailer tonight after you dance with me now?”
Bitter? Jealous? Those weren’t words I’d use to describe Jesse, but tonight, he seemed to be a little of both.
“Jesse. I’m sorry,” I said. “I let Garth get into my head. I let him remind me of all my fears and insecurities. I let him tell me what I deserved and what I didn’t deserve.” Shit. If I got any more vulnerable, I would turn into one gaping, bloody wound.
“Well, sorry, but I don’t let Garth Black decide what I do and don’t deserve. And you shouldn’t either.”
“I know,” I replied quietly. I could have gone into all the reasons I had. Why it was so easy to believe the Garth Blacks of the world. Why the bad was so much easier to believe than the good. Man, I could have gone into a day-long lecture on the special brand of screwed-up I was, but my apology wasn’t about me. It was about Jesse. It was about me hurting him and needing to make amends.
Jesse studied my face, like he was trying to remain objective about the whole thing but he failed. A long sigh followed. “What were you doing at Garth’s place that night anyways, Rowen? Why were you kissing the hell out of me that afternoon and snuggled into his lounge chair later that night?”
I could have cried from the pain in Jesse’s voice alone. From knowing that my actions had caused that level of hurt in him. Everything inside of me wanted to edit the truth. Everything inside of me wanted to appease him with a surface answer. Everything inside of me wanted to protect myself.
I flipped everything inside of myself off and sucked in a deep breath. “Because Garth Black isn’t able to break my heart.” I bit my lip and pressed on. “You are.” The ice in Jesse’s expression melted. His eyes softened. The wrinkles in his forehead smoothed. “I never have to worry about Garth hurting me, because I know he will. I know what to expect with him. I know he’ll screw up and leave me if I don’t leave him first. I don’t give him every piece of myself because I know what I’m getting into. I don’t know what I’m getting into with you, and if I give all of myself to you, you could break everything.” Was I really spilling my guts in a honky tonk with hundreds of people around? I took a quick scan of the area. Yeah. I sure was. “You make me feel too much, Jesse.” I crossed those few steps I’d put between us. “It freaks me out.”
There was almost a full minute of silence between us. Nothing but him studying me and me just letting him. A minute of silence after you drop that kind of deep stuff on a guy is basically an eternity.
Finally, Jesse’s mouth parted. “When you open yourself up to people, you let the bad in with the good. I can’t promise I won’t ever hurt you, Rowen. But it won’t be on purpose. I will never hurt you intentionally. I can promise you that.” Jesse’s hand dropped to my waist, but he didn’t draw me to him. He drew himself to me. “But if this is something we’re going to give a go, I need you to promise me the same. I need you to promise me you won’t go out of your way to push me away, or hurt me, or fall asleep on Garth Black’s lounge chair, when—not if—things get scary. I can tell you don’t want to let people in, that it scares you, but you need to let me in if we’re going to have a fighting chance. You can’t shove me away the moment you let me inside, as much as I know you’ll want to.” His fingers curved into my waist, and the warmth and strength in them made my eyelids heavy. “Don’t hurt me, Rowen,” he whispered in a way that tugged at any and every feeling I had for Jesse.
I knew letting him in would be like going against a strong current. I knew it wouldn’t feel natural, or be my first, second, or even third instinct, and I knew it would be a daily struggle to keep from running from Jesse when things got serious, when things got . . . scary, as he’d said.
But when I looked into those eyes of his that saw everything, those eyes that saw me, I knew the fight would be worth it. The struggle to let him in when I wanted to barricade the windows and lower the gates would be a battle I’d never regret fighting.
I inhaled. I exhaled. I wove my fingers through his where his hand still rested on my waist. I locked my gaze to his. “I won’t.”
It was a promise. A vow. A prayer. It thrilled me. It terrified me.
But what I noticed most was the warmth running through my body and into my veins. The feeling of peace that washed over me was nothing I’d ever felt before. The next thing that overwhelmed me?