Page 122 of The Influencer

“Then give me one reason why I shouldn’t be.”

Does he want me to say it back? Do I want to? It’s not like I don’t feel anything for him. I feel a lot, especially now. But the timing of our whole affair sucks, and I can’t afford to make this any more complicated than it already is. That being said, those three words coming from him were the best things I’ve ever heard—in his voice directed at me. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, Asher, you’re obviously still here. You have no other place to go.”

“I do, actually. So, if you think I feel trapped here, you can think again.”

He’s the quietest person in the world for a moment so long my heart crumples in on itself. I hate this. This isn’t him. He’s supposed to be joyful and sassy and slightly domineering, but that image of him does not in any way gel with the dejected man in front of me. What have I done?

More importantly, what do I say?

“Come back to bed.”

“In a while. I think I want to watch some TV.”

“Come to bed, Jade. There’s a TV in here.”

“I need some space.”

“How much space?” I ask, but it comes out more like a demand for an explanation.

“Give me some, and I’ll let you know when I’m finished.”

I consider the request for half a second before I’m shaking my head.

I can’t. I physically can’t. “No. I want you to come to bed with me,” I say. “Right now. Put on whatever show you want, but space isn’t going to happen unless you’re ready to kick me out.”

He glances up at me, his eyes harsh at first like he’s considering doing just that, but then his gaze softens, and he looks so, so humiliated. Which is totally unacceptable.

“Please,” I say, offering a hand.

He slides his trembling hand into mine, and I grip it tight. “I meant it, Asher,” he whispers.

I suck in a silent breath, preparing for whatever else he’s about to say.

“I love you. Like, I’ve fallen in love with you, and I’m sure it’s the last thing you want to hear, and that’s why I didn’t say it sooner—it literally just slipped out. I didn’t even realize I’d said it out loud, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put that on you. Or… between us.”

“It’s okay,” I say, which is grossly inadequate, and I hate myself for saying that, too.

“It’s not okay. You don’t need to know that any more than I need to be having feelings like that, but it’s out there now, and you have to figure out how you want to deal with it.”

“How are you dealing with it?” I ask, looking for some kind of clue, I guess—or a cue as to where to go from here.

“I’m freaking out,” he says.

“Why?”

“Because I know what I am to you, and this isn’t what you signed up for, and I swear I’m not trying to change anything…”

Those words trail off as he loses himself in his own thoughts. I can only guess he realized he was lying about that last part—love not changing anything. Does it really need to, though? I’ve always said I don’t want anything about him to change, and I meant it. I feel the same way now as I did when I told him that. I wouldn’t change a single thing about Jade, except maybe how afraid he is of his own feelings.

“First, I wasn’t signing up for anything in particular. I just wanted you. I still do. And I don’t want you thinking you fucked up,” I say.

“Didn’t I?”

I scowl. “Of course not.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re handling me right now?”

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