Page 91 of Capri

“Jones,” I whimper, although it sounds like a moan. “I…”

His forehead falls to mine, and we breathe each other in. “Capri. I want you so damn bad. You have no idea.”

My heart soars at his words. Words I’ve longed to hear from a man who loved me and only me for so long.

“I want you too, Jones. I really do…” This is the conflict I constantly face. Am I doing the right thing by denying what I very clearly want, all because I’m trying to focus on myself?

I feel better with time. More confident to do life on my own. But Jones makes me want to build a team of mini-Joneses and let him lead. God, I’d follow him anywhere.

I think, in hindsight, I should be concerned about my feelings for him, deterring me from this newfound independence I’m finding.

But I’m not.

“I know,” he says with a heavy breath. “I know. But you should put yourself first.” He pulls away, and every fleshly instinct inside of me wants to pull him back. Never let him leave again.

“You don’t have to leave,” I tell him softly. “You’ve been drinking.”

He smiles lightly before grabbing his truck keys. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more sober. Besides, it’s late.”

I nod. “I had fun tonight, Captain. Thanks for the TV and…being a sounding board. You’ll never know how much I needed that.”

He pulls me in for a hug and places a kiss on my head. “Anytime. I needed it too.”

27

JONES

I’m notsure how it happened, but I’ve been here for a little over a month now. Time has passed much quicker than it normally does during my three-month stay, and for once, I’m dreading it coming to an end.

Dreading leaving Timber Heights.

Never thought I’d say those words.

If only I could bring my mother and my favorite blonde-haired bombshell with me, all would be right in my world.

I woke up this morning feeling heavy.

Lonely.

It sounds fucking depressing. Even in my small rental here, there’s one bedroom, one bath, and a kitchen hardly big enough for two people. I don’t need much.

The house is silent.

I haven’t seen Capri this past week as much as I’d like, and I’m itching for her company. My heart fucking broke hearing about the loss she’s faced and knowing there’s nothing I could ever do to take that pain from her.

Capri lost a child. Her son.Stevie.And knowing that only makes me care for her that much more. It makes me understand her.

It also makes me want to give her everything. Be everything to her and for her because I know she deserves it. She deserves to be cherished and cared for in a way that needs no explanation.

She deserves someone to show up for her.

Selfishly, I also want to fucking bask in her. Soak up every sliver of her touch she’ll give me, hoping it leads me to having her heart in the palm of my hands at the end of all this.

An end I never want to see coming. Only a beginning.

Fucking and forgetting is different, and frankly, I’m finding it more and more unappealing. Aging has only proven to me how much I desperately want a life partner.

A partner to stand by me through the thick of it, and I do the same for them. Compromising feels like cheating myself.

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