Page 102 of Flame
Yet I’m afraid to tell him because I don’t want to ruin what we have. Because if this ends tomorrow and Jason picks me up to go home, I want to remember these few days as the best days of my life.
“Do you want to know something ironic?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“While you’ve spent your life trying to be everything to everyone, I’ve spent mine trying not to be anything to anyone.”
My spirits fall. “Why?”
He sighs. “I don’t know, really. It’s a multifaceted issue that probably begins with being the eldest of six kids.”
“As one of the younger ones out of six kids, I’d love to know why.”
“Well, when you’re the oldest, it’s all on you. If your parents aren’t around, you’re tasked with keeping the younger siblings in line. You have to watch your mouth, or they’ll repeat things, and you’ll take the fall. You have to share your stuff. Make them a snack when you get yours.”
I’ve never really thought about that.
“I sort of pulled away in my teenage years because I was just sick of them, to be honest. And then, I went into the military for a while and saw the horrors of the world. I traveled with Mandla. I lost friends who didn’t deserve to die.”
“Foxx, I’m so sorry.”
“Life starts to look like it’s out to fuck you. And the more people you’re close to, the more ways it can bend you over the barrel.”
I hate that he feels this way.
“It makes me sad to think that you spend your life alone,” I say, pulling my hand into the kayak as I spot an alligator. I shiver, trying not to make eye contact with it. I also don’t want to disrupt this moment with Foxx. “You have so much to offer the world. How do you justify sacrificing your life and withholding the gift of you?”
“I share it with the people I want to share it with.”
Chuckling, I put my paddle back in the water to push away from the shrubs. “So, no one, you mean.”
“I’m sharing it with you.”
My body stiffens. I’m not sure what he means by that.Does he mean he’s sharing it with me right now? Today? This week? Until this situation is resolved?
Or does he mean he’s willing to share it with me?
I shake my head, chastising myself for going there when I know better.
“For a long time, I’ve feared losing the people I love,” he says quietly. “I’ve seen the fragility of life. I wake up sometimes in the middle of the night having dreamed that something was happening to someone important to me, and I can’t stop it.”
I frown, my heart aching for him. It must be so hard to live with that kind of fear, but something tells me it’s even harder for him to admit that to me.
“That doesn’t help your desire not to want to be anything to anyone, does it?” I ask.
“No. It doesn’t.” He shifts again. “But do you know what does help?”
“What’s that?”
“You.”
Me? I’m afraid to look at him. If he’s smirking or joking, I might tip this kayak and feed him to the gators. But if he’s not …
“You don’t have to say it back,” he says, his voice wobbling.Oh my God. “But yesterday when—”
“Cut to the chase.”
He laughs.
