Page 63 of A Love That Saved Us
My brows pull together.
“You’re not sure you want thatyet,” he repeats, his voice smug.
I let out a shaky laugh. “God, you’re so cocky.”
He grins, shaking his head. “Confident. There’s a difference.” Then he lifts my hand again and presses a kiss to my knuckles like he’s some old-school movie star—a modern-day Jimmy Stewart. “And you love that about me. You always have.”
“I guess I did miss your ego… a little.”
He chuckles. “Careful, babe. You keep talking like that, you’ll fall back in love with me.”
His eyes find mine—and hold.
“Love was never the problem, Jensen.”
He swallows hard, like that hit deeper than expected. And I’m not sure if he hears it as a blessing or a warning.
After a moment, he nods. “Guess that’s a good thing, then.”
I shake my head, still staring at his mouth. “Is it?” My voice is soft. Raw. “Because it’s confusing as hell for me. Wanting you—but not trusting that it’ll last. Being too scared to just give in.”
His thumb drags across my hand. “I get it, babe. I really do. But it’s a fucking relief to hear you say love’s not the problem.”
“I wish I felt the same way.”
His gaze moves slowly over my face, pausing at my lips before meeting my eyes again. My stomach flutters. My pulse refuses to calm.
“So when you ask me if I’ll date you again… it’s not that simple for me. Nothing about this is simple.” I take a breath. “It’s not a yes, but it’s not a no either.”
He takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. “That’s good enough for me. I’ll take anything in between, Alley. As long as there’s still a chance.”
A comfortable silence settles between us, even without a clear answer. At least everything’s out in the open.
My eyes drop to Jensen’s lap—briefly, but long enough to notice his erection straining against his joggers.
I can’t help but smile, a soft laugh slipping out. “Good to know I still give you boners.”
He groans, tipping his head back against the headrest. “God, don’t start,” he says, chuckling under his breath.
“What?” I tease, biting back another grin. “It’s nice to know some things never change. That boner brought us together.”
“I told you, you’re Clark’s kryptonite.”
His gaze meets mine and the tension is palpable—the kind you can’t joke away.
We both feel it.
And if we sit here much longer, I’m going to give in.
“Hey,” he says softly. “Will you promise me something?”
“What is it?”
“Promise me, if you’re really going to go through with the divorce, don’t drag me along. Just tell me. Rip the damn Band-Aid off.” He pauses, brows furrowing. “I’d rather hear there’s no chance now than have you give me hope just to take it away later.”
“I can’t give you an answer right now,” I admit, my voice catching. “That’s the truth. I don’t know if this won’t still end in divorce.” I pause, taking a stabilizing breath. “I want this. I really do.” My eyes close, fighting the sting. “I want you.”
When I look at him again, I’m not sure how I’m even holding it together. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. You. And for so long, that was enough.” I glance down, trying to steady my breath. “But it’s not anymore.” I shake my head slowly. “It’s not just about you. It’s the addiction—I don’t trust it. I don’t trust that it won’t show up again. In three months. Three years. Ten.” I meet his eyes, voice barely holding steady. “That scares the shit out of me, Jensen.”
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