Page 132 of Jesse's Girl

I can almost feel the sarcastic cogs humming to life, that well-oiled machine of self-preservation doing what it does best. “Oh, you know best, huh? You’re gonna tell me how I feel?”

“About me? Yeah. I have a pretty good fucking idea.” The corners of his eyes tense up. “And I’m not gonna let you gaslight me into thinking I imagined all this.”

“Gaslighting? Fuck off. You know me so well, huh? Well, then fucking enlighten me, Jess. What do you know about me?” I throw my hands out at my sides.

Jesse steps closer still, his body only inches from mine.

My eyes flare wide as he grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting my face to his. “Jesse, what the f?—”

“I know you have an entire drawer full of tea but you only ever drink coffee. I know your favorite animal is the sea otter because they hold hands and you think that’s adorable. I know your greatest fear is earthquakes. I know you got that scar on your right knee sliding into third base when you were fourteen—because I was at the game.

“I know you’ll fight tooth and nail to protect the people you love because you’re a good person. And I know, even though you’re a good person, you can still act like a huge pain in the ass.”

I cut my gaze away from his.

“No.” He tugs my chin back to face him. “Look at me. I know all you wanna do right now is hide behind your snarky bullshit and bury your feelings down deep where they never touch you. I know you think it’s easier to blow this up and try to hurt me than to admit what’s really going on here.”

I open my mouth to speak, but I falter. I don’t know what to say.

“I know you,” he continues. “You’ve been trying to downplay how you feel about me for two months. Two months. And I know you’re scared as hell, and you’re trying to put on a brave face.”

Fuck. He’s not wrong.

“But Ada,” he almost whispers, the emotion thick in his voice, “we’ve known each other way too long for you to hide anything from me. You don’t need to pretend. Not with me.”

What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

“Jesse…” I step out of his arms, my heart twisting. “I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Ada, don’t…”

I shake my head. “I can’t be with you, Jesse.”

Silence stretches between us. It’s not untrue and it’s not surprising. Being together was never in the cards.

But it still hurts to say out loud.

“Look,” he finally says, his voice wavering. “If you really wanna end this, I’ll respect that and back off, but I won’t pretend it’s not gonna kill me to do it. So don’t insult me by pretending you don’t feel anything for me.” A muscle in his cheek flickers, the movement caught in the orange glow of the evening light.

The front door pushes open and Dad steps out onto the porch. “Everything okay out here? Where’s Marcus?”

Jesse gives me a long, hard look before turning to Dad. “Marcus left. Said he needed to cool off. He’ll call you later.”

Dad nods.

“And, actually, I was just leaving too.”

“We drove here together,” I point out softly. “What are you?—”

“I’ll walk.”

“What? Jess, it’s like six miles.”

“It’s fine.” He turns again to Dad. “Thanks for having me for dinner, Frank. And for lending me the bed. I’ll make sure it gets back to you. Please tell Maria thank you for me. It was great to see you both.” He gives Dad a tight smile and turns to go.

We watch him walk to the end of the driveway before Dad’s footsteps approach me from behind. “You okay, kid?”

“No, Dad.” I wipe my eyes. “None of this is okay.”

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