Page 119 of Give Me a Shot

“H—”

He swept her into his arms, cutting her off. A tiny part of her protested, feeling like she didn’t deserve his affection, but his warmth and his broad chest and strong arms and utterly irresistible Mo-smell turned off her thoughts. She almost purred when he rested his cheek on her crown and drew a slow, deep breath. Her bones became weak and rubbery, and she wanted to give in to the temptation to just melt inside him. She got a little dizzy from a lack of air and suddenly remembered his present squished between them.

“Can’t breathe,” she said, the word muffled by his chest.

“Hmm?” he asked.

She tried to shift a little, but he didn’t budge.

“Hard to breathe.”

“Oh! Sorry,” he said, letting her go. He stepped back, waving her inside as he closed the door. Being able to take a full breath was great, but she was gutted to lose his warmth and smell.

“What was that?” she asked, smiling.

He smiled back.

“Eavesdropping,” he said. “I didn’t realize that the window was cracked until you and Mrs. Sargysan were in the middle of your conversation.”

Jess’s face flashed hot. She swallowed hard.

“Well,” she said. “If nothing else, you know that you have an ardent protector.”

He chuckled.

“That I do,” he said.

For a moment, she wasn’t sure what to do. She wasn’t sure how to transition into what she wanted to tell him. He was looking at her, face open and sweet. He’d seen the gift; she could start with that. Or maybe the apology should come first. Or the gift? Being indecisive was strange and uncomfortable.

What would Cassie do?

The gift. She liked seeing people enjoy her gifts. Jess raised the ivy plant, ready to give it to him, then froze when she looked him in the eye. His lips were curled together, hiding in his beard.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” he asked, smiling. She smiled back.

“No, not really,” she said.

“Let’s go sit down,” he said. She nodded, and he rested a hand on her back as they walked to the couch. His touch steadied the jumble inside of her.

“You know what,” she said, sitting down. “Let’s do it like a Band-Aid.”

“Okay,” he said, sitting beside her.

She placed the ivy on the coffee table and took a deep breath.

“Mo, I am intensely sorry. I was an idiot. Multiple times over,” she said. “I decided what you are capable of handling and then made a decision for both of us based on that. And I did it with the full knowledge that that choice itself would cause you pain. So I hurt you to not hurt you, which makes zero sense.”

“Jess, it’s—”

“Wait,” she said, cutting him off. “Please let me just say all this. I don’t want to forget anything.”

“Okay,” he said, smiling and folding his hands in his lap.

“So,” she said, “it would be beyond reasonable for you to decide to return to your life the way it was before, maintaining your safe spaces and spending time with people who respect you and the way that you manage your HSP, respect your agency. If that’s what you want, I’ll one hundred percent respect it and won’t bother you in any way. At first, I was just going to do that. Keep my mouth shut and keep out of your way. But that’s another form of compartmentalizing, and I’ve decided that I’m not going to do that anymore. And I’m taking action. I’ve started on a plan that Alice and Stephanie helped me put together. It’s mainly for my grief, but you’re part of it, too.”

“I am?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

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