Page 91 of Myself

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JAYCENT

I stand outside her door when it opens. Becca steps out, letting it shut behind her. Her dark hair is up in a messy bun, and she wears a white tank top with sweatpants. She comes to a stop a few feet from me and just stands there.

“Hey,” I say softly.

“Hey,” she responds, looking down at the floor.

I run a hand through my hair nervously. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She nods. “I know. It’s just ... hard to swallow.”

“I’m not like him,” I say defensively.

She sighs. “I didn’t mean that.”

I step to her, and I find a small victory in the fact she doesn’t step back. “I’m not trying to upset you. Or hurt you.” I reach up and cup her face, and she leans into it. “I love you, Becca,” I say, and her lips part. “I’ve loved you for what has felt like forever, and I’m trying here. I truly am, but it just seems to be one thing after another.” She opens her mouth, but I continue. “I want you to be happy, and if that means I have to take control of a situation and do it the best way I see fit, I will. And I’m not going to apologize for that.” She sighs heavily, knowing there’s nothing she can do about that. “I see you as my equal. As a woman who has big dreams and can change the world, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone stop you from achieving just that.”

“You shouldn’t have that much faith in me,” she whispers.

“You shouldn’t have that little faith in yourself,” I say, moving my hand from her cheek to the back of her neck. She leans her head back and looks up at me with her soft green eyes. “If you don’t want to see me anymore, I understand, but I’m also willing to prove to you that I can be what I think you deserve. And that is someone willing to fight for you. And this time, I’m not going to walk away so easily.”

I hold my breath, waiting for her to ask for the key she just gave me the other day. Or for her to push me away like she has before. Either way, I’m not going without a fight. But instead, she pushes into me, and her lips smile. “I love you too, Jaycent.”

I lean down and press my lips to hers. She wraps her arms around my neck, and I grip her tightly. I deepen the kiss, and she moans when the door to her apartment opens. She pulls away, and I sigh. I’m tired of getting interrupted. She really needs to move in with me soon.

“I see you two have made up,” her father says as he steps into the hallway.

“Yes,” she says, turning to face him. Then she walks over to him. She wraps her arms around him, and he pats her on the back awkwardly. “Thanks, Dad. For everything.” Then she pulls away.

He nods. “I’m here to help.” Then he walks over to me and reaches out his right hand.

I shake it. “Thanks, sir.” After I called him this morning and informed him about Conner, he said he needed me to meet him here tonight, so here I am. I wasn’t sure what he was going to say or what his plan was. All I knew was that I needed to get her back. And if he was willing to help, I’d take it.

“You’re welcome,” he says and then walks over to the elevator. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

We walk inside the apartment with Becca laughing and me smiling like a fool just as Ashlyn is coming down the hallway, dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a black t-shirt. She has black heels to match and her purse over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Becca asks her.

“I need to go talk to someone,” is all she says. “Don’t wait up for me.” Then she walks right past us and out the front door.

“You think she’s going to go talk to Ryder?” Becca asks me with a smile on her face. “My father wanted to speak to her privately. It had to be about Ryder, right?”

“I would think so,” I say although it could have been about Talia’s. I don’t voice that thought, though.

She runs to me and jumps up as I open my arms. I spin her around, and she laughs. It’s the greatest sound I’ve ever heard. “Take me to bed, baby.”

**

I wake the following morning to the sound of pots and pans banging from the kitchen. I manage to remove my arm out from underneath Becca’s neck and slide out of bed.

I slip on a shirt and sweatpants before I head toward the kitchen. “Son of a bitch.”

“Everything okay?” I ask, entering the kitchen.

Ashlyn stands in front of the stove. A plate full of burned pancakes on one plate and burned bacon on another.

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