Page 120 of Give Me a Shot

“Yes.”

“What…about me?” he asked.

“This.” Jess gestured between the two of them. “Me apologizing for being an arrogant dumbass.” He frowned, then raised his arms like he was asking for a hug. She happily melted into them.

“You are not an arrogant dumbass,” he said. His words were nice to hear, but better to feel reverberating from his body into hers. “You just made a mistake in trying not to hurt me because you know it can be easier to do so than with other people. I knew you were coming from an overabundance of concern, not of malice. Things were jumbled up for you because you’re struggling about Cassie.”

“I’m working on that,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “I have my first appointment with a grief counselor next week, and I’m going to a support group meeting on Tuesday.” He pulled back so he could make eye contact with her, his smile a mile wide.

“That’s great, Jess. I’m really happy for you.”

She smiled and pulled him in, snuggling close. She closed her eyes, drowning herself in Mo-smell as he began running his fingers through the ends of her hair.

“That’s a nice ivy,” he said after a few moments.

“I wanted to get some purple hyacinths, too. But they didn’t have any,” she said. He went stock-still. His fingers stoppedmoving, his chest no longer rising and falling. She smirked but kept her head tucked so he couldn’t tell.

“Why…an ivy and purple hyacinths?” he asked softly.

“Why cranberry flowers? Or any of the flowers you’ve given me?” she asked, raising her head. She held in her giggle at the shock on his face. “I didn’t realize it at the time,” she said. “But I asked Alice and Steph for help for tonight. Maybe a plant as a gift. When they pointed out what you’ve been doing, I decided to speak your language to apologize.”

He glanced down at his lap but not before she caught the shimmer in his eyes.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Mo.” She took his hand. “You didn’t deserve that. I wanted to show you I’m sorry, and I’d like another chance. Even if it might be bumpy as I work through things.”

His cheeks reddened and he tucked his chin.

There’s the big shy kid.

“That’s why I chose the ivy,” she said, smiling. “For fidelity. If you do give me another shot, I won’t let you go again.”

Mo sniffed and blinked quickly. He closed his other hand around hers.

“I won’t let you go, either,” he said. “Let’s take that shot.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Mo

“Well,” Mo sighed as he parked his truck in the Folk School lot on Monday afternoon. He looked at Jess in the passenger seat. “Here goes something.”

“Yeah.” She sighed back, reaching for the door handle. “The moment of truth. Let’s go.”

The Faire was over, and Mo’s body hadn’t begun to recover from two days of blacksmithing and sensory overload. Part of him was joyful with Jess by his side, but the deep, metallic anxiety about the School was still there. Wendy had called the team for a meeting to discuss options before she went to the board. On the phone the previous evening, she had been very light on details. And while Mo knew that there had been a lot of people at the Faire, and it seemed that everyone had had a good time, he had no way of knowing if it had been the financial success they were counting on.

While it would be a shame in general to have gone through all that effort for nothing, it would be much worse for Jess to have gone through the struggle he’d witnessed if the Faire plan didn’t work out. She’d been majestic in the show he’d caught the day before, but she’d melted in his arms when he’d gotten to her house, emotionally drained. Grief was shitty that way—events and experiences that brought back good memories could also set off an avalanche of sadness over the impossibility of making new ones.

Walking through the parking lot beside her, he tried to pick upon her energy without asking. The evidence of the visitors struck him instead. The gravel crunching under his feet was significantly disturbed, the festooned path to guide patrons out to the field still in place, its green and purple flags hanging loose in the absence of a breeze. He could still hear the chatter of the crowds and feel their excitement. He stretched and rolled his shoulders a little, trying to shuffle off the energy all those people had left behind so he could focus on Jess. As they reached the building, she surprised him by sliding her hand into his. He stopped, looking from their hands to her face.

“Yeah?” he asked, shooting a glance at the door.

“Yeah,” she said. “Between the photoshoot and our stroll on Saturday, I’m sure everyone’s already made up their minds. Even if we haven’t openly said we’re together.” She looked at the door and then back at him. “I know privacy is important to you, though. What makes you feel more comfortable, Hephaestus?”

Skin tingling, he smiled. She hadn’t called him that in weeks.

“That everyone in the world knows that you’re m’lady,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing the back. Her cheeks tinged pink. She repeated the gesture with his hand and mimed a little curtsy.

“And I want everyone to know that you’re m’lord.”

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