She turns her back to me. I climb off the bike and stand behind her. I don’t hesitate to invade her space by placing my hands on her hips. Brushing one of her braids to the side, I kiss along her neck. The way she shivers while trying to hide it just makes me want her more.
“Don’t say anything, Calla. Don’t tell me it was a mistake, cuz, sweetness, anything that feels that good is not a fucking mistake.” Leaning my head into hers, I breathe in her sweet scent for a minute before pulling away.
I don’t want to overwhelm her, but I don’t want her thinking this is just some passing fling for me, either. I’m too old for shit like that. I know what I want in my life, and most of it centers around Calla being by my side. I just have to convince her of that.
Calla
* * *
My lips continue to tingle from when Jace ravaged me, pushing past every barrier I’ve set up around myself and slamming straight through the brick wall I’ve been hiding behind. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine a kiss feeling so good. So right.
He made me forget everything in those lingering minutes before he pulled away. Jace seems to know me even better than I know myself. He understood when it was time to pull back and when not to care about invading my space, touching me again, kissing me again, whispering those words to me. He knew exactly what I was feeling and wanting to say before I did.
I’ve never had someone who innately got me in such a profound way, but he did. And he respected it even while pushing my limits.
Jace is terrifying for an entirely different reason now.
He has the ability to smash my barriers and break my heart.
The urge to run has never been stronger. My desire to protect myself from everything that could possibly hurt me is so heavily ingrained in me that I don’t know what to do.
As we enter the mall, Jace clasps our hands, entwining our fingers, and I forget to breathe.
Staring at our hands as we walk, I try to remember the last time someone held my hand simply because they wanted to.
“Petal.” My last memory of someone holding onto me is not long before my mother took us away. Petal and I were walking to the park down the street. I used to hate that she always held my hand until we got there. Now I miss it.
“What about Petal?” Jace’s rumbling voice interrupts my contemplations.
“Huh?” I gaze up at him, and his head is cocked to the side.
“You said your sister's name. What about her?” His smile is encouraging.
Stunned that I said anything out loud and by the memory resurfacing, I find myself confessing. “She was the last person to hold my hand.” His smile grows. “Weeks before we left. I hated it. I was a big girl; I could walk to the park without her holding me.”
Realization dawns on his face. “Sweetness.”
But I don’t stop talking. The words just pour from my soul. “I told her I could do it. That we could race. That she was just trying to be the boss. I told her I was a big girl, Jace. I could walk to the park on my own.” He curses as he pulls me into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around me. Holding me. Showing me that he’s a good man. “I was a big girl,” I cry into his chest.
“Of course, you were, sweetness.” I can feel his cheek on the top of my head as we stand in the middle of the mall while I have a meltdown.
For the first time that I can ever remember, I feel like someone cares about me. Jace didn’t sign up for the crazy lady, but here he is, holding onto me like a lifeline. He’s got me, and I love it but also hate it.
Pulling back, I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. I can’t meet his stare. “I’m sorry,” I mumble. “I need a washroom.” Spinning around, I look for a sign, and as soon as I see it, I dart towards the feeble safety of privacy in a public restroom.
Slamming the stall door shut behind me, I plop down onto the toilet seat lid and close my eyes. Taking deep breaths, I try to control my erratic heartbeat. I can’t believe I confessed something so easily to Jace. He’s going to think I’m such a freak, and he wouldn’t be wrong. The minutes pass. It feels like hours when I finally open the door to an empty washroom.
Splashing cold water on my face and neck, I dry off with a paper towel before taking one last fortifying breath and heading out. Jace probably left, realizing I’m more trouble than I’m worth, so I start stressing about how I’m going to get home. I’ve never been anywhere but Long Beach, and I don’t know the bus systems very well here. If I buy a present for Lily, I won’t have enough for a taxi or vice versa. I’m stuck.
Except, there he is. Leaning against the wall with a bottle of orange juice in one hand and his other buried in his pocket.
Waiting.
For me.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
Jace shakes his head as he cracks open the lid of the juice and hands it to me. “Nothing to apologize for, Calla.” I want to believe he means that.
“It’s just…” I pause because I don’t know how to finish. I’m not exactly ready to spill my guts, even though I sort of already have.
“Hey,” he holds my hand again, and I feel the immediate sting of tears. “When you’re ready to tell me something—anything, everything—I’ll be here to listen. Don’t feel forced to explain yourself to me or anyone else until you’re comfortable with it. I won’t push.”
“Thank you.” I swallow forcefully, shoving down the sensations trying to climb my throat.
“You’re welcome.” His signature grin is back. “How about that Disney store?” I nod, and he leads the way, and it’s not until we’re entering that I realize I have no idea who Lily's favorite princess is.
Biting my lip, I gaze around at all the Frozen stuff, but it doesn’t feel right. “Who does she like?” I look back at Jace to see him watching me closely.
“All of them? Who was your favorite?” He counters my question, stopping me in my tracks. I have to think.
Do I have a favorite Disney princess? Did I ever?
“Uhm.” It’s almost depressing how hard it is to answer his question, but then I remember a time before, when things were good. “Petal and I used to sneak out to the living room in the middle of the night to watch Pocahontas while our parents slept.”
“She’s badass,” he says, and I feel slightly better.
“She was. She wanted to change the world.” I remember wanting to be just like her when I was younger too.
Guiding me towards another section of the store, Jace stands me in front of a wall with an array of Pocahontas paraphernalia. The costume sticks out to me the most, so I reach for it until I see the price tag. Drawing my hand back, I instead grab the action figure of the woman with her pet friends.
“You don’t like the costume?” Jace asks, grabbing the hanger.
“It’s cute, but wouldn’t she like to play with the doll?” I faintly smile, attempting to hide my anxiety and hoping he doesn’t push for more.
“You’re probably right. You get the doll, I’ll get the costume. Then she can be Pocahontas while playing with her.” Relief slams my chest as we walk towards the register.
After paying, we leave the store and wander around for a while. Window shopping mostly because neither of us really speak, but Jace continues to hold my hand or wrap an arm across my shoulders, pulling me into his body.