Page 41 of A Little Crush (The Little Things #6)

“To be up front?” My arms fold. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

“I’m trying,” he admits, “but it’s complicated.”

“Of course it is.”

“I’ve known you forever, Rore,” he argues. “I feel like I just got you back.”

I bite back my scoff because the truth is a hell of a lot more pathetic. Despite my best intentions, he’s always had me. I’m just…not running from him anymore, and whether or not that’s a smart decision is on me.

“What if I screw it up?” he continues. “What if we decide we’re better as friends? And I know you’ve been looking at the resumes online. What happens when the month is up? Do you leave?”

I open my mouth, preparing to ask if he wants me to leave, but he barrels on, proving his thoughts are even more sporadic than his actions lately, which is saying something.

Pacing through the grass, he says, “Fuck, I travel a shit ton, Rore. Your dad’s my boss. Your brother’s one of my best friends. You work for me. Not to mention Crowther and the rest of the team or what my ex would think. I just?—”

“Whoa, there,” I mumble, catching us both off-guard before I snap my mouth closed.

His pacing ceases, and his chest heaves with a sigh as he gives me his full attention again. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” I deflect. “It’s just…whoa.”

“Whoa?”

“I, uh, I get it now. ”

He frowns.

Giving in, I explain, “Tatum’s always complaining that I overthink things way too much, and now that I’m talking to you, I finally understand what she’s saying, and…” I grimace. “Whoa.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” he asks. “Overthinking shit?”

He isn’t offended. Isn’t frustrated with me calling him out like this. No, he’s genuinely curious. Like, the idea of me throwing him a bone and hashing this out or clearing this up isn’t a want. It’s a need. For him, at least. The question is, what do I want? What do I need?

“Don’t answer that,” he decides.

Hades screeches to a halt in front of him and drops the ball at his feet.

As if he’s grateful for the distraction, Jaxon retrieves it, gently tossing the ball from one hand to the other.

Hades swishes his tail back and forth in preparation for a quick dash, though it seems Jax is too distracted to share in my dog’s not-so-subtle show of anticipation.

“I just…I can’t stop picturing the look on our family’s faces if they find out I can’t help picturing you naked. ”

A snort escapes me before I can stop it, and I press my hand to my lips. “Sorry. Uh, but I’m pretty sure they don’t need to know that kind of information regardless of whatever does or doesn’t happen between us.”

“So I keep it from them?” He cocks his arm back, and the ball arches through the pale blue sky. “We keep this from them?”

What this? I want to scream.

I could let it go. I could leave the proverbial can of worms untouched. Or I could grab the rusty can-opener at the very back of the drawer, dust it off, and wrench this baby wide-open. Isn’t it past time? For me, yeah. For him, though? I peek at Jaxon again and twist my fingers in front of me.

“Here’s the thing,” I say. “I know you recently got out of a serious relationship. I know you probably think that you need the answer to everything if you’re even going to consider pursuing…

something with anyone, let alone me. Or at least I think that’s what you’re saying,” I clarify.

“And maybe it’s my degree talking here, but I don’t think requiring the answers to every single question before even considering pursuing this is the healthiest way to deal with the situation. ”

“So you admit there’s a this?” he challenges, tossing my own words back at me from moments ago.

My mouth lifts despite the cloud of melancholy hanging over me.

I need to tell him the truth. The truth that’s weighed on me for as long as I can remember, despite my best attempt to brush it aside.

“I think we both know there’s been a this for me a lot longer than there’s been a this for you, Jax. ”

He sobers, his reaction causing heat to unfurl in my chest.

“I know.”

Does he, though? I doubt it. Even I don’t fully understand the pull I’ve always felt with him. It’s…exhausting. And consuming. And scary as hell.

As if he can read my thoughts, Jax murmurs, “That’s why I didn’t ask to come inside before, Squeaks.”

“Because I’m a crazy stalker?” I retort.

“Considering all the thoughts I’ve had about you lately, I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around.

” He steps closer. Slowly. And with a weight of calculation that’s both sexy and annoying.

Because it makes me feel like he feels the need to treat me with kid gloves, and that’s the last thing I want.

“I’ve always cared about you, all right?” he says. “Even after you left, I always thought about you. Always hoped you were getting everything you wanted in life.”

Everything I wanted but you , a quiet voice whispers in the back of my mind. With the game of fetch forgotten, I wrap my arms around myself. I’m unsure what to say or how to even process the conversation we’re having, let alone the kiss we shared on my front lawn in the pouring rain.

With a sigh, Jaxon narrows his gaze and tilts his head, considering me. “But the thing is, ever since you came back, things have felt…different.”

“Different,” I repeat.

“Yeah. Different. The things you do to me are new.” His gaze dips to my mouth. “Very new. I’m still processing it.”

“Guess that makes two of us.” I take in a soft breath, hoping the additional oxygen will keep me from jumping to conclusions. Like if he’s thinking what I’m thinking, or if I’m reading him wrong—again—like I did all those years ago.

“So, what do we do?” he asks.

What do we do? He’s leaving this to me?

“Well, I’m not expecting a marriage proposal or anything,” I mutter.

“I think it’s okay to take a breather and figure things out without announcing them to the world.

” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “What if we don’t make this complicated?

What if we both admit we enjoyed that kiss, and what if we both admit we’re curious about what it would be like if we kissed again.

Maybe we could stop overthinking and start testing the waters to see if we’re both interested in it.

” To see if you’re interested , I silently clarify because I’m not stupid, and I know what I want. Him.

“Testing the waters, huh?” he questions, towering over me until I’m left with no choice but to raise my chin and tilt my head back so I can hold his gaze. This is it. The look. The one I’ve dreamt about for years and have only seen a handful of times—the first being in that hotel room last week.

“Mm-hmm,” I hum in an attempt to keep my mind in check when I’m seconds from spiraling into a fit of likely misread interest.

He lifts his hand from his side as if he wants to touch me, but he doesn’t. He lets his hand hover an inch from my waist, the lack of touch branding me more than if he’d grabbed my hip. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m a big girl,” I remind him. “And I’m not asking for a commitment. I’m only asking for you to be honest and open and straightforward with what you want.”

Something flashes in his gaze, but it’s gone too fast for me to place it.

“What I want?” he challenges.

“Yes.” My skin prickles with awareness as I metaphorically twist the handle on the stupid can opener, well aware there’s no going back. Not after this conversation. Steeling my shoulders, I ask, “What do you want, Jaxon?”