Page 39 of Could Have Been Us
Our breaths mingled, and if this were a dream, I never wanted to wake. “He was going to be my first.”
That seemed to shock him a little. “He didn’t deserve you.”
My lips quirked a bit. “He wasn’t who I wanted anyway,” I admitted and prayed that, just this once, I’d have the courage to tell him the truth if he asked.
But Jack didn’t ask. He just watched me, his strong hands glided up from my wrist and held the back of my arm.
“Stella?” Jack’s voice broke the silence.
“Yes?”
“If you could have anything for your birthday, what would it be?”
There was a note of something in his voice, something I’d never heard before, and my pulse quickened. I pulled from every fiber of courage I had in my body, willing my lips to say what was in my heart.
“For you to kiss me.”
And then, like a scene from a movie, Jack’s lips moved to mine, and he kissed me. We didn’t stop there . . .
I walk toward him, keeping my voice even. “I didn’t forget. I wish I could. God, how it would make things easier if I didn’t have to remember.”
“I have tried! I have done everything I could to erase that night, your kiss, the way you breathed my name that night. How it was so fucking perfect and so goddamn wrong. You, standing there”—Jack cuts the distance between us—“with your hair coming down and how it felt between my fingers. I want to forget you, Stella, but you’re always there.”
My heart is racing, and I’m struggling to breathe.
I go to him, stopping just a breath away, but not allowing myself to touch him. “Why are we doing this?” I ask. “Why are we fighting against this?”
“Because we can’t ever be. It’s the penance that I’m going to pay for the rest of my fucking life for what I did to you. No matter how much I want you. No matter how much I know my life would be better if I could just . . .”
“Just what?” His eyes close, and I rest my hand on his chest.
After a few seconds, Jack’s warm palm settles against my cheek. “You were always so sweet. So innocent and perfect.”
“I’m not perfect.”
“You are, though. You always have been.”
“I’m perfect for you, Jack. Always you.”
Please tell me you want me. Please let yourself see that we’re fighting the wrong battle.
A knock on the door, which is more like someone pounding, causes us both to jump.
Neither of us says a word, and then it sounds again. “Stella. Please.”
Jessica’s voice breaks over the words and has Jack dropping his hand and stepping back. The loss of his warmth is almost painful.
“Stella! I need you.” Jessica’s tone is frantic.
“Go,” Jack says.
I move quickly, pulling the door open. “Jess, what’s wrong?”
Tears are falling down her face. “I need to go.”
“Go?”
Delia is behind her, hand rubbing her back. “She keeps saying she needs the keys. Jack?”
