Page 74 of Jester

“Well, you are, but this is what we’re doing. I thought you were ready. My dick needed you to be ready, but it’s just not happening. This is me adjusting to reality rather than me forcing you to do what you can’t,” he says, sounding gentle before adding in a grumpy voice, “But you’re spending the night. I don’t want to sleep alone.”

Tugging my wrists free from his large hands, I slide out of his reach. My gaze washes over the townhome before returning to his face.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t ready for you,” I mumble, feeling like I ruined my big shot.

Jester runs his hands through his long, wavy hair, seeming tired and restless. When he stops frowning at the ceiling, he looks at me.

“I wasn’t ready for you, either.”

“How do you mean?”

“You have a lot of needs. Emotions and expectations. I thought loving you was enough, you know? But it’s not, and worrying about you is stressful. If I didn’t love you, I’d just end things. Be lazy. Find a broad who didn’t care about my name, let alone my history. Just fuck and be dumb and not care.”

Jester steps closer. “But I do love you. And I want the stuff I see with your family. I never thought I could have what Papa Bear and Betty Boop did. I grew up seeing them in love, and it seemed impossible for someone like me.”

He pauses and glances at the pictures of his boy on the wall. “Wanting something different for myself, I went to that goofy gift store and asked the little old lady for help. Then, I got help at the flower place. That shit is not in my wheelhouse, but I did it. And it didn’t kill me or turn me weird or anything. I’m still me, but maybe better. A little, anyway.”

Jester finally looks at me again. “So, I think maybe I can have what Papa Bear had with your mom and what he’s got now with Lady Bug. Though I’m not a good man like him, I’m not a total piece of shit, either. But I can only do it with you. No other woman’s going to be worth the trouble.”

“Why do all this?” I ask in a quiet voice as I look over the blue roses and gift bag. “Did Bomber tell you to?”

“No, I did it on my own. But, yeah, maybe he helped with the flowers a little. But I was already getting them. He doesn’t get credit for that.”

I smile at how Jester put all this effort into making me feel better. Stepping closer, I ask, “What kind of candle is that? Is smells weird.”

“It’s jasmine. The lady claimed the smell was romantic.”

My face hides nothing, revealing a stupid, silly smile like I’m a dumb teenager still stalking her much older crush. Jester’s calloused fingers stroke my cheek.

“What if I’m still crazy in a month?” I whisper as he holds my gaze.

“Oh, you’ll always be crazy. But I don’t think you’ll be as scared. I figured you were telling me no just to be a tease. But I forgot how I’m scary, and you’re used to having your own space. In a month, I won’t seem so scary, and you’ll be used to sharing your space with me.”

“You’re not so scary,” I murmur and smile at my flowers. “But you are larger than I remembered.”

“And I never really knew this Talon up close. The chick I knew before prison was rowdy and fearless. The chick I knew on the phone seemed the same way, but that was just because you weren’t sharing your space with a man. In a month, things will be different.”

Smiling big again, I ask, “Can I move some of my clothes in here?”

“Yeah, and your lady stuff, too.”

“You mean like my tampons and vaginal itch cream?” I ask, just to mess with him.

Jester scowls. “Why is your pussy itching?”

“Well, I wear tight jeans and ride on my bike a lot. There’s all kind of friction involved.”

“Wear baggier pants and get a smaller bike so you’re not sliding around so much.”

“No,” I reply and look at my gift. “I want to see what the old lady talked you into buying me.”

Jester smacks my ass before waving for me to check out what’s hiding in the little red bag. The figurine is exactly like what Papa Bear would buy Betty Boop. All my tough-bitch mojo disappears when I see that little girl holding her mom’s hand.

“I miss her so much,” I tell him. “Thank you.”

Jester isn’t sure if my tears are a good thing. He waits until I feel him up before he loses his frown.

“Women are weird.”

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