Page 104 of Duke's Daring Bookworm
“Why are you being so nice?” I shouldn’t be accusing him of anything. I knew that, but I just couldn’t help it. He had always simply been nice, but guilt at how I handled things made me angry in the face of his steadfastness. He had been on his knees begging when I last saw him, but now here he was pretending like we were friends and nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t ripped us apart without warning or explanation. Maybe he no longer cared. The thought of that hurt more than I liked. Him no longer caring was more heartbreak than I could handle today, and I don’t think I ever want to find out if it’s true. So instead, I put up my hackles and hoped he understood.
“Would you rather I be mean?” He asked easily as he watched me walk over to the table. He had the plate of bacon in his hands, presumably to tease me and tempt me out of slumber. I didn’t like his eyes on me this morning. It felt like he could see right through me, and I didn’t want to think about what he saw.
“That’s not an answer.” I didn’t say that I thought I might want him to be mean to me. At least I could understand that, but then if he was, a part of me would wither and die, and I’d lost too much of myself already to risk losing his kindness as well.
“You’re right. That’s not an answer.” He shrugged when he sat down at the table. “So, would you rather I be mean?” His tone was conversational, and I wanted to throw a pillow at him again. I looked around and couldn’t find one nearby.
“I’d rather know why you’re being so nice,” I grumbled again, fingering the fork in front of me hoping to distract myself from how the intimacy of sitting across the table from him while I was so off balance already.
“I want to be nice.” He passed me the plate of bacon and let me load up as much I wanted. There was enough food here to serve an army. I was starving and still too tired to be self-conscious about the amount of food I was getting.
I didn’t understand people that couldn’t eat when they were emotional and upset. I’d always been the opposite. Food was the only thing I understood clearly right now. I knew bacon, and I knew eggs, and I knew what I would get with both. They were an anchor. One that I desperately needed right now.
I put some sugar and cream in my coffee and took a sip before eating. The flavor of the coffee hit my tongue, and I groaned. “You make excellent coffee,” I admitted before diving into my food, letting go of a little of the uncertainty I’d been feeling since waking up. I would thaw for the devil himself if he made me a cup of coffee this good.
“Glad you approve.” There was a hint of laughter in Charles’ voice and his lips twitched like he was trying to suppress a grin.
We ate our bacon and eggs in uncomfortable silence. I wasn’t sure what to say to him after yesterday’s fiasco. Thankfully, tonight was the last night I had to stay here, and Icould escape and be done with the whole situation tomorrow. A small part of me lurched in protest at that thought.
Chapter 6
Charles
“Let’s play a game.” I brought out the box full of old, dusty board games that were at the bottom of the closet. Jess had been avoiding me since breakfast. Despite her proximity, she was so distant she may as well have been in another state. This was not going well. I didn’t know how to get her to open up to me and share her worries. She was going to gnaw right through her thumb at the rate she was biting her nail, and I swear she hasn’t turned the page over in at least ten minutes.
“No.” She just shook her head and didn’t move from her seat. She had a mug of coffee and a book she brought was open on her lap. I tried to see the cover, but she was hiding it from me. It made me think it was a naughty book. Maybe that was just wishful thinking. Whatever it was, she wasn’t paying attention to it.
I sat down in the chair across from her and started digging through the games, anyway. I wasn’t ready to give up on her. There had to be another way in. I just needed another plan of attack.
“Oh, Scrabble!” I pulled the game out of the box and held it up for her inspection. “Remember playing this?”
“No.” She went back to staring at her book and sipping her coffee. I wasn’t deterred.
“What? We played all the time. You always beat me. All the reading you do, your vocabulary is much larger than a crayon eater like me.”
I laughed at the memory of how she beat me withsympathizingly. She had to define it for me to even realize it was a word. She had looked at me like I was dumb. I leaned right over the board and kissed her passionately, unable to resist her adorable and accurate look.
“Must have been another girlfriend.” Her tone was too careful and her body too still.
I barely held back a groan of frustration. “I’ve never had another girlfriend,” I said a little too forcefully. “There’s not been anyone but you.” Did she really think she was so unmemorable that would mix her up with someone else? Did she genuinely think I could get over her?
She looked at me then. “What do you mean you’ve never had another girlfriend? It’s been ten years.” She dropped her book, but carefully set her mug on the coffee table between us.
“I mean, I’ve never had another girlfriend. Every time I tried, it felt off, and it never worked out.” I wasn’t ashamed of my dating history and it had been years since I’d really even tried to date at all. Jess was it. It didn’t matter whether people believed in soul mates. She was mine, and that was that.
“But,” she sputtered for a moment, “that’s not — you’re so — but.” She didn’t finish her sentence. She stared at me for a moment before tossing the blanket to the side and leaving. Again.
Great. That was not my intention. I wanted to remind her how much fun we had when we were good. I didn’t bother calling out to her. It was still snowing hard and she would freeze if she tried to venture further. She wouldn’t risk herself like that.I worried I was wrong, but she was there on the porch, curled against the cold. I played with the bracelet in my pocket. She’ll come back and I can try again.
Semper Fidelis.
Always faithful.
Except in my head, it was always faithful to Jess. The Marines were simply a means to the end.
“You still going through with it?” Jess’s grandma asked me when she caught me cleaning out my old square body truck at a small car wash just outside of town. I needed to put it up for sale. I didn’t know what she was doing here. She had a strange habit of being exactly where you wouldn’t expect her to be.
“I signed the contract.” I pulled out the floor mats and did my best to vacuum them clean.
