‘No shit?’
‘My dad was a military chaplain. A real hard ass, too. My mom left us when I was eight. She didn’t take me with her.’
I raise a hand when anger starts clouding Jake’s face. ‘He wasn’t physically abusive and I like to believe she didn’t know how bad it would get. My mom was the mediator and when she left, my dad and I kind of gave up on each other. A few years ago, I decided to get out of contact with him for good. It was a smart change.’
My hands smooth invisible wrinkles from my skirt. ‘Every now and then you remind me of him.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ He looks sick.
‘No, not in a bad way. I mean, not always. You’re just intense and really precise and it messes with my head sometimes. Doctor Blathe keeps reminding me that I say you’re not like him. It helps.’
He sits there so quietly, as if he’s afraid of scaring me away by moving. Funny, considering he’s the one trapped in the hospital bed.
‘I’m bad at this, Jake,’ I admit. ‘I like acting because it’s pretend. This isn’t.’
‘What do you mean, this?’
‘Us.’
‘There isn’t an us, remember?’
‘I want there to be one. More than I’ve ever wanted anything else.’
The only sound in the room is the steady beeping of Jake’s heart monitor.
Time for the hard part. Be brave. ‘That’s what I came here to tell you. Dallas called me. I came as soon as I heard.’
‘You didn’t have to,’ he protests. ‘Our run-in today was a freaking disaster.’
‘And knowing you’re safe is more important to me than my pride.’ I suck in a breath and blurt out the rest before the chance to escape presents itself with Dallas’s return. ‘I had to tell you that. I’m sorry I’ve been horrible to you. I don’t know how to say how I feel.’
‘You’re doing a pretty good job right now,’ he murmurs.
‘I’m scared of ruining your life,’ I whisper. ‘You’ve already been through enough.’
He tilts his head a little and watches me. ‘Come here.’
I obey, crawling up onto his bed and curling up against his side. At first, I can’t help but be a little stiff. That fear and awkwardness begins to leach from my limbs when his arm wraps around my shoulders and he pulls me to his chest. After a few minutes, he heaves a deep sigh. I’m on instant alert.
‘You’re not going to walk out on me again, are you?’ I ask, a little afraid of his answer.
‘Kind of hard to do when Dallas won’t give me my clothes until the doctor clears me to leave.’
‘So if I ask you a question, you can’t go anywhere?’
‘Nope.’
I move so I can kneel and face him. The corner of his mouth tugs up when I have to pull at my skirt so I’m not tangled up. ‘Stop laughing at me.’
‘No. What’s your question?’
‘Do I have any hope that you’re willing to give me another chance?’
He recognises my wording, as I thought he would. I wanted to make sure he understood how much asking this question means to me. That I now understand how hard it was for him to ask a similar question before I drove him away.
The smile vanishes. ‘I want more than sex, Maya.’
‘I know.’