Page 62 of Jump

Her head jolts back, and her eyes widen in panic.

“I don’t know what that means for us,” I admit in a rush. “I don’t know if it’s sustainable. I don’t even know if it’s welcome. But it’s there anyway, living and breathing and pulsing in our home every single day. You don’t have to return my feelings, and you don’t have to let me down easy because you feel bad for me. But you do have to hear me say the words, because you deserve to know I love you.”

I draw her higher and feather our lips together.

It’s not a kiss, really. It’s not a mutual movement of lips. It’s just me… pressing mine to hers.

“I love living here with you. Seeing you every night. I love listening to you putter around in the mornings, trying to be quiet, but completely and utterly unable to not bang pots and pans around between the hours of six and seven. I love guessing which socks you’ll pull on each day, and being surprised that still, in all this time, you haven’t repeated a pair. I love that you know how to cook,” I thrust my arm along the hall, in the direction of the roast, “but so rarely do. Because you’d rather steal leftovers from the fridge, like you think I don’t notice. Like I don’t make extra, knowing it’ll become your lunch the next day. I love that you’re a bleeding heart, rescuing dogs who would otherwise die on the streets, and you count pennies every damn day, because they don’t have jobs and can’t pay you for your services.”

“You’re being silly.” Her jaw quivers and her eyes dance. “Dogs can’t get jobs.”

I choke out a laugh and crush her to my chest.

I want to feel her heart beating against mine. I want to hold her, when she’d rather melt into a puddle and avoid even the mildest confrontation.

“I love you, Viv. And today, I took my ass to a gym I never wanted to go to, just to make sure I wasn’t crazy. The jury is still out,” I admit. “But I don’t compare you.” Taking a step back and slowly, gently, releasing her, I allow her to lower to flat feet so she can stand on her own. “You’re incomparable. Thank you for making tonight your hundred percent night. It smells amazing.”

“It’s o…” She swallows so hard, I see the movement in her throat. “It’s okay.”

“You know my feelings now.” I look down at my silk-covered cock, and grin when I find it standing at attention once more. “And that you’re welcome, always. Wherever I am. Whenever. You’re always welcome with me.”

“It’s all so complicated,” she moans, bringing her hand up to nibble on her thumbnail. “It’s not as simple as being together, and you know it.”

“It can be,” I murmur. “If you allow it. Right now, you’re your own worst enemy. Whatever punishment you’ve doled out to yourself this past month is way worse than anything anyone else will give you.”

“They’ll know you chose Ainsley,” she rasps out. “They’ll know I come second.”

“I never said you come second. That’s your insecurity speaking. This isn’t me accepting a fucking consolation prize. This is a beautiful woman who stepped into my life and rocked the foundations I thought unshakable. There is no one else, Viv—there’s just me and you. So how about you stop inviting a third into our home?”

I turn on my heels before I disrespect a good woman’s memory. Before I tell Vivian that, if they both existed at the same time, I would have chosen—but Ains wouldn’t be the one standing by my side at the end.

Ainsley Cootes was beautiful and funny. She was fun and lively and all the things I thought I wanted. She was loud and confident and everything a man could ask for, if he wanted her to take the reins and declare their lives… so.

She made it easy, and she sure as hell made it entertaining.

But Vivian makes it worthwhile. She makes us work for our connection, to ensure we’re real and can withstand a lifetime.

Ainsley and I never got to experience an argument. We never lived together. We did none of the day-to-day stuff that could bring us stress and test what we had. She was the sunshine in my life. And like the sun, her love rose every day and shone down on everyone it met.

Vivian is the rainbow that comes after a storm. Seen only by the lucky, a gift given only after earned. She is precious.

But none of these things can be said without adding to the mental and emotional load she already works so hard to wade through. Speaking my thoughts hurts her and Ainsley in one breath. So instead, I turn on my heels and trudge into the steam-filled bathroom.

“I’ll be out for dinner in five,” I call back to her. “Wait for me. I wanna know what movie you’ve picked for us.”

Vivian

OH GOD. OH NO.

Don’t you do it.

I stumble back into the kitchen and move toward the oven.

Don’t you dare do it, Vivian.

I flick it off, justifying it by reasoning that dinner is finished baking.

You need to stop right now!

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