Page 157 of Something So Strong

It fills my head with fantasies of future days that may never be.

My tongue waves in my mouth a few times before I can no longer resist the urge to suck on it. But that only ever quells the top ten percent of the anxiety inside me, and I have to pinch my thigh inside my pocket so I don’t grab Jesse’s hand and bring his fingers to my mouth. It’s one of the downsides of being in public. Actual public. Not the, my weird shit is cool around my friends, kind of public.

Jesse’s outside hand moves between us to rub the inside of my elbow. “You gonna make it through the night?”

Man, I’d love to wipe that smug grin off his face if he wasn’t playing the role I gave him so damned well. So I only have myself to blame. I learned a long time ago how to bluff my way through life with an arrogant chip on my shoulder and way too much sexual energy. Then Jesse came along on his white horse, scaled my walls, and stole my heart for the effort.

But I know we’re a terrible match. And the reality of that is only hammered in deeper every time I think about the life he has waiting for him and how I have nothing. Not a damn thing.

Sometimes I wish he wasn’t so perfect. That there was even the smallest thing wrong with his life so I could be the savior. The shield. And not the other way around. Then reality dawns on me and I crawl back under his protective veil because I’d never be strong enough to take care of him like he does me…

There’s a line out the front of Fernandas’ which is expected for a Friday night—even if Jesse did make a reservation—and we join the back of it to wait for those in front to either add their name to their waiting list or be shown inside.

“I still can’t believe Alma let you take the van. We could have just got an Uber.”

“I know.” Shifting to lean against the front window of the jewelry store beside Fernandas’, I tug Jesse to stand in front of me so I can take his hands. “I guess I just wanted to see how pissed she really is with me… Not too much, it seems.”

“That doesn’t mean you should go abusing the privilege.”

“I know,” I say again with the same tone, because it was never about that.

With Alma, I knew I’d fucked up from the start. If I could have my time over I’d never have let my dick win that battle. But that’s the beauty of hindsight.

But would I do everything differently?

Three months ago I’d have answered before the sentence was even through.

Fuck, yes!

I could have run away.

I could have reported my parents to Child Welfare.

I could have made sure I never went to the park that night. Or, better yet, took a knife or Dad’s hunting rifle and knocked them all down before they ever had a chance to touch me.

But now I don’t know what my answer would be.

If certain events changed, where would I be now?

Now here with Jesse, that’s for sure.

Hell, if everything in my life didn’t play out the way it did, I’d likely never have even found my way to Vistas in the first place.

God, that makes me feel sick.

Jesse is my… reason for being alive. But for the last twenty-five years to be exactly as fucked up as they were just to find him…

“Are you alright, Babe?” The warmth of his palm rests against my cheek and his thumb pushes just firmly enough on my bottom lip for me to focus. “You’re not about to self-combust, I hope.”

This man is my everything.

I kiss his thumb and I can feel the lines of his fingerprint against my lips.

He understands me like no one else. He knows what I need without ever asking. Or without ever needing to be told.

His eyes ask me again if I’m alright.

I take his wrist, turn my head, and kiss his palm.

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