Page 20 of Love Lies Bleeding

“He was, and do you know the worst thing, Jake?”

He stops us outside my dorm building and turns me to face him, tipping my chin up to look at him. I could drown in his eyes, so many flecks of color that it’s hard to know sometimes if they are green or blue.

“Tell me.”

I look away, knowing I’ll see judgment in his gaze when I admit this next part. “I never cried when he died. I didn’t shed a tear and I still haven’t.” What kind of daughter does that make me that I can’t cry over the loss of the man who gave me life?

Jake’s palm cups my cheek and I close my eyes not wanting to see the disgust, instead letting the callouses on his hands scrape against my skin.

“Tears don’t mean you loved him and no tears don’t mean you didn’t. Emotion, especially grief, is complex and just because you don’t wear it like a shield for the world to see, doesn’t mean a fucking thing. You loved him, Cherry, anyone who hears you speak about him knows it and he knew it too.”

My eyes open and all I see in his gaze is sincerity as he holds me captive. “You don’t think I’m broken?”

His thumb sweeps over my cheek, in a soft caress and I fight the desire to lean into him.

“I think we’re all a little broken, Cherry Blossom, but do you want to know what I see when I look at you?”

I nod, my lips parting as I try and suck in enough oxygen.

“I see a beautiful girl who fights for those she loves, who’s strong and fierce and brave. Who’s smarter than even she knows but is afraid to trust in case she gets her heart broken. I don’t know if it’s losing your dad or something else, but I do know you’re special, and you’ll succeed because you’re brilliant and you’re a survivor.”

I drop my head into his chest, my fingers clutching at his shirt. Jake makes me feel things that frighten me, but he also sees me. Not the mask I wear for the world, but me, inside where a little girl still wakes, calling for her father and knowing he will never be there to hug her again.

It’s too much, my chest feels like it will explode and I want to admit to him how right he is, to tell him how broken I feel, how afraid but being that open is a risk. What if I show him who I am, let him see my fragile heart, and he leaves or dies, or takes my heart and breaks it? I’m not sure I could survive another loss like that, so I fall back on coping strategies of old.

“Did you just call me a cockroach, Jake Marshall?”

His arms come around me and I feel his laughter against my cheek, before I lift my head and step away, forcing him to let me go.

“Only you would turn a sweet moment into a perceived insult, Blossom.”

I shrug as we walk up the stairs to my dorm room. “Sweet rots your teeth.”

“I’ll win, you know.”

I throw my bag on my bed as Jake slumps across my bed like he’s done the few times we’ve spent time here already. Nothing has happened between us that is overtly sexual, not even a kiss. He’s respected my friendship boundaries with grace, but now I wonder if he’s been breaking my defenses one brick at a time. Little familiar touches of his hand on mine, his fingers kneading the knots in my neck after a long day. All of it lowering my defenses against him as he wages war on my reasons for keeping him at a distance.

“Win what?”

“Your trust. One day you’ll see that I have no intention of hurting you. Not now, not ever.”

My breath hitches in my chest at his words, spoken softly and with so much certainty. “Nobody intends to hurt someone, Jake. It just happens.”

His fingers skim my cheek with the whisper of touch and I feel my heart stutter, wanting him to kiss me and yet afraid that if he does I’ll give up my heart without any more fight.

“I won’t hurt you, Cherry. You can trust me on that.”

“Choose a movie, Jake.”

I can’t answer him because I want so badly to believe he means it, but then my dad promised he’d always be here, and he’s gone. Every boy I’ve ever liked in school, every friend I’ve shown my true self to, except Lexi, has gotten bored with my abrasive attitude and proved me right. Why would a boy like Jake Marshall be any different? He could have anyone, why would he stick around for me?

The rest of the night we spend arguing the merits of action movies versus chick flicks and perversely, he’s the one arguing for the chick flick.

“Seriously, it’s like the men’s guide to what a woman wants. Why would men not watch them?”

I shove more pizza in my mouth and mentally say sorry to my mother. “So you’re saying it’s more of a how-to guide for men?”

“Exactly.”

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