Page 31 of Hung Up (Shadow Ridge #1)

“Sweetheart?” Jesse knocks softly on the door. I sniff, wiping my hand under my nose before I stand upright. “Are you okay?”

I fling the door open, ready to fight. Wanting to tell him he’s crossed a line and this is too much and tell him we need to remember what this is. That he can’t do these kinds of things that kick my heart into overdrive and confuse me, making me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling.

But instead, what comes out of my mouth is, “Why didn’t you send me any flowers today?”

“What?” He seems genuinely surprised and a little confused.

“Why didn’t you send me flowers?” I repeat, my hands bracing the door frame on either side of me.

Jesse runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “You ignored me all week. I figured you wanted your space and I worried flowers might set you off.”

“And this,” I start, gesturing behind me and toward the room. “You didn’t think this might set me off?”

“Truthfully, yeah, I worried it would. But you know what?” He takes a step closer, invading my space so we’re almost toe-to-toe as he stares down at me.

“I figured I would rather do something nice for you and try to distract you from whatever the hell has made you so pissed off rather than feed into it. So if you want to lash out at me for this, if you need to be angry about something, then go ahead, Sweetheart. I can take it.”

I take an aggressive step back and slam the door in his face, my breathing heavy as I brace my hands on my hips and begin to pace the tile floor.

How dare he give me a place to sleep rather than letting me slum it in my vehicle for the next two nights?

How dare he swoop in and try to save me as if I need saving?

And how dare he pay attention to how I lay out my things to try and make me feel more at ease and comfortable with the situation I’ve found myself in?

Yup. I sound like a crazy, ungrateful bitch.

Rubbing my hand down my face, I sigh loudly and reach for the handle to pull it open, ready to step into the room and apologize, no matter how much it hurts me to do so, but I stop dead in my tracks at the sight before me.

Jesse, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall facing the bathroom door, his feet crossed at the ankles as he looks up at me.

We stare at one another for a moment, studying each other. Me, trying to figure out what the hell he’s doing and what he could possibly be up to now, and Jesse, attempting to decipher if I’m going to lash out at him again or not.

“Your makeup remover is in your bag still,” he informs me, gesturing to my small makeup bag that rests near his legs. “I didn’t have time to set that out for you.”

I take a few steps forward, pick up the bag without a word, and slip back into the bathroom, but this time I keep the door open.

I turn on the faucet to let the water warm before opening the bag, slipping the wristbands on before my headband.

Grabbing a makeup wipe, I slowly begin to remove my mascara and eyeliner before discarding the wipe and reaching for my face wash.

As I work my way through my nightly routine, I feel Jesse’s eyes on me.

His insistent stare makes me fumble a few times with a couple of the bottles, the silence between us somehow making me nervous rather than bringing me comfort like it normally does.

Is it because of me? Has something truly shifted, and if it has, what is it?

It feels like we’re at a tipping point. On a seesaw in an attempt to try and balance, but in reality, one of us fears falling into the dirt.

And while I know I’m not ready for it to be me, that doesn’t mean I can’t attempt to find an equal ground.

“I don’t know what to say,” I tell him once I put the dropper back in the bottle and slowly begin to rub its contents into my skin.

“Whatever you want to.” He says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I won’t judge you, Sweetheart.”

“I have poured myself into this job,” I start.

“I’ve spent nights taking naps in my office to get ahead-on assignments and projects, trying to beat other stations and outlets to stories.

It was one of my interviews that skyrocketed Alicia’s viewership four years ago.

My only real friend in my life is Rylie, and we met through work.

I don’t go out, I don’t make friends, and the only reason I dated the few times I did was thanks to the connection I made with them through work. ”

I sigh, staring at myself in the mirror for a moment as I let the water wash away the oil from my hands.

“Work has consumed my life, and I’ve been on my own for so long.

An only child who lost her mother and has a pretty tumultuous relationship with her father.

A woman who only has one real friend due to the job that I have. And then I came here.”

Slipping the wristbands and my headband off, I start to put my things away and take a moment to gather myself, my feelings.

That pain in my chest is back, the one I often feel whenever I think of just how lonely my life really is.

I risk a glance over at Jesse to see him sitting in the exact same position—completely focused, hanging on to every word I say.

“I have never been more out of my comfort zone than I was that first day I stepped into that arena in Sacramento. But Max welcomed me and has since made me feel like I belong. And then Kai quickly became like the little brother I always wished I had. Stetson and Lee treat me like I’m their best friend, making me laugh constantly and never making me feel stupid when I try to understand things.

Wyatt acts like the annoyed older brother, but he will never hesitate to try and bring you just a little bit of peace when you might need it. ”

I turn, giving Jesse my full attention. “And you. You were the biggest pain in my ass when we first met.” He laughs at that, which forces a smile to tug at my lips.

“You pushed buttons I didn’t even know that I had.

You were annoying and self-absorbed and always liked to get the last word.

But fuck, at some point things changed and I found comfort in those moments.

You made me feel in a way that I don’t like and really wish I wasn’t. ”

He looks like he’s going to get up at that, like he wants nothing more than to reach for me, but I hold a hand out, freezing him in place.

“I have never had anyone stand up for me before the way that you did in Louisville. I’ve never had people band around me like that before.

It’s always just been me standing up for myself, trying to right all the wrongs in my life alone.

So that night…overwhelmed me. I was grateful to have people who cared that much, was sad because I remembered that would all be gone in a couple months, and was angry I needed saving in the first place. ”

“You didn’t need saving, Faith,” he tells me softly, his eyes appearing brighter, as if they were holding back tears. “I—well, we—couldn’t stand to watch him do that to you. We stepped in because we wanted to, not because we needed to.”

“I know,” I whisper, walking to lean against the door frame. “And I don’t know how to be okay with that, or how to wrap my head around it, for that matter. But I know I want to try. I just have one favor that I need to ask of you.”

Jesse stands, closing the gap between us as he reaches for my hands. “Anything.”

“Please try to be patient with me.”

He stares at me for a moment, searching my face, but for what, I don’t know.

Eventually, he gives me a weak smile and dips his head, angling in a way for him to connect his lips with mine.

It’s not a desperate, needy kiss like we’re used to exchanging.

No, this one is filled with acceptance, understanding, and another emotion that I don’t want to try and put words to.

Jesse pulls away after a few seconds, giving me that gentle grin I’ve grown to look forward to seeing before he gives my hand a gentle tug and leads me out of the bathroom.

Dropping my hand, he goes to the bed and grabs my pajamas, turning to put them into my hands.

He drops a kiss to the top of my forehead, pushing some of my hair behind my ear.

“I’m going to get ready for bed. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

Once the bathroom door shuts behind him, I strip out of my sweater and jeans, discarding my bra and underwear, and slip into my pale pink silk pajamas.

Walking toward the bed, I’m about to grab my bonnet and put it on when I notice he’s swapped out the usual cotton pillowcase for my silk one.

I bite my lip, setting the bonnet on the nightstand, and slip underneath the covers.

Jesse emerges a minute later, flipping off the lights as he goes.

He slips in beside me, laying flat on his back much like I am, allowing the silence to settle amongst us.

I want to break the silence, ask him to share something with me as I had with him.

Feeling uncomfortable now that he knows more about me than I do him, that he’s aware of the most painful part of myself.

But before I can utter a word, I feel his arm slip behind my head.

I roll into him on instinct, my right arm landing over his stomach and my head resting on his shoulder.

He wraps his right arm around me, setting his hand on my hip.

With the sound of his even heartbeat in my ear and the comfort of being wrapped up in him, it doesn’t take long for me to drift off to sleep.