Page 130 of Ruled Out
“Your smell on the pillows was wearing off. So, I’m getting my fix.”
When he tips my chin up to look at him, I rise onto my tiptoes as a few people move around us to enter the elevator.
“Well, we need to remedy that, don’t we?” He brings his lips down against mine, swiping his tongue across my lower lip. “Yeah, I’m going to need to stop actually.” He pulls away slightly and takes a look around.
“Why?” I say, trying to work out who he’s seen. “We don’t need to hide anymore, remember?”
He looks down between us, and that’s when I see it—the tent forming in his pants.
A giggle bubbles out of me.
“Oh, you think this is funny, do you?” he mocks. “Robbing your man of all his dignity out in public?”
I shake my head and inconspicuously brush the back of my hand over his dick. “I’m really sorry.”
He closes his eyes and drops his forehead against mine, his hair tumbling forward. “Yeah, you sound really regretful. Let’s get out of here before I abandon this idea altogether and take you back upstairs.” He scans what I’m wearing. “You knew what you were doing when you wore my favorite black skirt, didn’t you?”
I shrug and bite down on my bottom lip, pleased my outfit hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Where are your bags?” I ask. “You came straight from the airport, right?”
Jessie tips his head over his shoulder. “Yep. The concierge is looking after them for me. We need to get going.”
He wraps his little finger around mine, smiling down at me. I can tell he wants to kiss me again, and, God, do I want him to.
“Let’s go. There’s a car waiting outside for us.”
With our fingers still joined, he leads me through the double glass doors and out into the fresh spring air.
Climbing into the back of an executive SUV, I look across at Jessie as the driver takes off without any instruction.
“Where are we going?”
He retakes my hand across the back seat, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “You’ll see.”
As I playfully narrow my eyes at him, I don’t say anything; instead, I observe the lightness in his face.
In the past week, even though he’s been on the road for most of it, I’ve caught glimpses of the real Jessie Callaghan. The version of him that was buried alive with fear and pressure. He spent every day being crushed under the weight of anticipation, worrying about everyone but himself.
I still see heaviness there. Guilt over his mom and that he couldn’t save her. I know he blames himself not only for her death, but also for the way he’s feeling right now. Relieved. Knowing that her passing gives him an opportunity to break free from the shackles her addiction locked him in. Sometimes, I catch him staring at the picture of them sitting on the couch when he was a baby. The morning before he left for Boston, I know I heard him talking to her when he was in the bathroom. That was the same morning he found out Wayne didn’t want to hold a funeral for her, claiming it wasn’t Alice’s wish.
I don’t believe him, and neither does Jessie.
My heart breaks for him that he won’t get a chance to say goodbye properly. If there’s one thing the grieving mind needs, it’s closure.
When I squeeze his hand a little, he turns his head from where he was gazing out of the passenger window to look at me.
“When I moved to Seattle, it’s true that I needed the money, but do you know the real reason why I got a job as a florist?”
He shakes his head. “Why?”
Drawing in a breath, I steady myself. I’ve never shared this with anyone before, not even with Jessie the first time around. “I have more photos of my mom than I know what to do with. Album after album of me growing up in her arms. I’ve spent a lot of time flicking through those pages, trying and hoping to feelher arms wrap around me again. To feel that comfort only she could bring me as a child, you know?”
He swallows thickly, his eyes shining in the bright sunlight filtering through the windows.
“Then, one day, I was walking through town. It had been a really shit week.”
I clear my throat and push down the lump forming there. “I really missed my mom, but that day especially, I needed her. I needed to feel the safety of her arms. Everything felt like it was spiraling—my emotions, my thoughts, I was even struggling to imagine her voice anymore.”
Jessie squeezes my hand back, but doesn’t say anything, just letting me know he feels everything I’m saying.
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