Page 73 of Forgive You

“How chivalrous,” she mocks, but I’m glad the ease is back in her tone.

I laugh, realizing the ridiculous conversation we’re having, but when I hold her brown eyes linked with mine, I still can’t get rid of that nagging ball rolling around in my stomach.

I’m dying to question out loud if this is really the root of her panic attack or if something else is keeping her stress levels at an ultimate high.

The only reason I’m not is because there are a dozen people waiting for us back at the studio, and the last thing I want to do is upset her more before we have to get back to work in a couple of minutes.

It bothers me, though. It bothers me that she doesn’t trust me enough to confide in me. To tell me what’s on her mind like she used to. And I hate how my mind has a hard time trusting her because of it. I want to be her person.

Because deep down something tells me she could be mine.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this, Jules.” I play with a strand of her soft hair. “I’m right here for you.”

“Thank you.” There’s warmth in her voice, burning a fire in my heart.

What do I have to do to get her to open up to me? To show her that I’m still me. I’m still her friend. I’d still move mountains for her.

I can’t force her to tell me what’s got her so stressed, because the more I push, the more she will push back. No, I have to show her she can trust me.

“Jules?” Another hum is what I get, and this time the heat of her breath feels scorching on my skin. “Do you trust me?”

I’m afraid of the answer. I didn’t exactly give her trust when I walked out on her all those months ago. It wouldn’t be a complete surprise if she said no, but it would put my heart through a shredder.

“Yeah, I do.” No doubt. No hesitation, and my heart fist pumps the air in victory.

“Will you face your fear of open water with me?”

Silence. It’s thick and long, and for just a split second, I realize hearing the wordnocome out of her mouth within the next moments will feel like just as much as a rejection.

“Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” I can hear her smile, and the corners of my mouth lift.

She might not feel comfortable telling me everything yet, but at least she trusts me to help her face her fear. That’s huge. That’strustin my book.

She trusts me again, and I’m not going to destroy it.

20

There’s something soothing about watching Jason and Jordan catch wave after wave.

I’ve been sitting here for the last hour, admiring his skills on a surfboard while the sun slowly sets in the background. The warm sand comforts my palms, and though I’m not a big fan of the ocean, the sight truly is magnificent.

If I didn’t know he never surfed a day in his life before he moved to LA, I’d think he’s been surfing since he was a kid. He’s good. He’s really good.

And now I’m curious what it feels like to ride a wave with confidence, being one with the ocean even though it also scares me to death. To feel the salty water on my skin.

Will I ever be brave enough to face my fears? When I look at Jason flying over those waves like he’s got wings, I like to believe I will. I like to think I can.

My heart has faith.

But my mind has a lasso around it, holding it back from flying away, in any kind of form.

Jordan comes strolling out of the water, water dripping from his chest, his board tucked underneath his arm. He really turned from scrawny kid into beach boy from heaven in just a couple of years.

His face lights up like I’m his favorite sibling, though all we share is some childhood memories.

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