Page 130 of Sinful Like Us

Now in the backseat with me, we’re staring at each other head-on.

“Ready?” I ask.

Her gaze dips down to my crotch. She blushes and raises her blues back to my face. “I didn’t mean to look at your dick. It was involuntary. You usually ask that during sex. And I shouldn’t even be thinking about us having sex right now.” Her words come out rushed and she touches her temple, eyes squeezed closed. “I amsoincredibly sorry. I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?” I wonder because she’s losing me. I’ve been lost by her verbal derailments before, but this is different. It feels heavier.

“Talk to an ex-boyfriend.”

I don’t blink.

This is worse than I thought.She’s already filed me under the ex-boyfriend category. I should have prepared for this. She’s the type of person that will slice you open but immediately cauterize the wound.

By breaking up with me, she thinks she’s protecting me from herself.

But I don’t want her protection.

“I’m your ex-boyfriend,” I say bluntly, gauging her reaction.

Jane swallows hard, eyes bloodshot, and she opens her mouth but closes it quickly. Even lost for words, she doesn’t break my gaze. We hold it, and somehow the contact feels even more powerful than a single, brief touch.

I continue, my voice never wavering. “To be clear, you broke up with me because you feel like you’re not treating me well.”

“Precisely.” She places her hands on her knees, gripping them tight. “You don’t deserve to be pulled in and then pushed away by anyone. And I can’t promise I won’t keep doing it. My head is a jumbled mess.”

I run a rough hand through my hair. “Most people don’t have thousands of strangers bearing down on them with their shit opinions. Acting like they have a say in your life and know who you are—I understand if that’s fucking with your head. It’d drive anyone insane.”

She breathes in sharply. “Just…wait for a second. It’s…” She shakes her head, blinking. “It’s far toohot in here.”

It’s not that hot.

Really, with no heat in the car, the chill starts to creep in. The window next to me is like a block of ice.

She hurriedly tugs off her fuzzy sweater, her elbow catching the sleeve. I’m about to help, out of instinct, but she frees herself. Brown hair strewn in every direction, the elastic tie lost, she straightens her pink-and-yellow striped blouse. Her freckled cheeks are rosy-red, maybe partly from the cold.

She’s beautiful.

One readying breath later, her eyes land back on mine. “What you just said—it’s the problem.”

I don’t get it. “Why?” I ask. “Because I’m wrong?”

“Because you’re right.” She fists her crumpled sweater, balled in her hands. “Because you’re making me feel better, and that’s the issue, Thatcher.Youare helping me when everyone says I should be helping myself. These aren’t horrible comments about my weight or appearance or upbringing. They’re attacking my independence…and for me, that’s…” Tears well up in her eyes.

“It’s your identity,” I finish for her, understanding fully now. Complete realization washes over me like a tidal wave. “And you feel like you’re losing it to me.”

Which is why she’s been pushing me away.

Pain twists her face as she nods. “I’ve never had to rely on a man for emotional support…I’ve never wanted that. But I find myself wanting your reassurance, your help, your everything. Itterrifiesme to know thatwantinside of me could turn toneed, and there are moments I feel myself suffocatingunder the weight of that fear.”

My chest constricts.

I won’t lie to Jane. “I can’t promise that your fear won’t come true,” I tell her.

A tear rolls down her cheek.

I force myself not to touch her. “I can’t promise that if you let yourself love mecompletelythat you won’t want me or need me.”

She holds her body.