I’d been wrong.
This was where pain manifested.
This was where I fell apart piece by piece.
Right there on Jacob Wild’s couch.
“Dinner’s ready.” He skipped his stare over me, cocking his head at the dining room table. Placing two plates on the wooden surface and returning to the kitchen for salt, pepper, and a carafe of water, he finally came to a stop before me. “Do you need help getting up?”
I flinched. I didn’t want him touching me, but unfortunately, I needed his strength.
The bruises from the crash steadily became known as time passed. My hip hurt. My knee. My ankle.
Gritting my teeth, I held out a hand, wordlessly accepting his assistance.
He shot forward as if I’d finally given him permission to everything he wanted. Ignoring my outstretched hand, he wrapped his arms around me, plucking me effortlessly from the couch.
Standing in his embrace, our eyes knotted, and I sucked in a breath.
He was so warm and strong and reeked of protection and affection. If I were weaker, I’d lay my head on his shoulder and be done with it.
I’d accept whatever scraps he could give me.
I’d be the old Hope who happily took heartache for a snippet of his love.
But I was jaded these days.
I wasn’t the idealistic girl who believed horses and farmers could fix everything.
I knew the truth, and the truth was Jacob would always be a loner.
Pushing him away, I reached for my crutches.
He let me go with a heavy sigh, moving to pull a chair from the table for me. I sat as nimbly as I could with my cast sticking out in front of me and hated the way he scooted me closer to the table like a child. Hated the way he bent down and placed a kiss on my hair, his nose nuzzling me far longer than permitted.
Goosebumps darted down my arms as he kissed me again, then headed to his own chair and the delicious looking avocado, pesto pasta he’d created.
Cracking some salt onto his plate, he looked up. “Want some?”
I shook my head, spearing a piece of penne and placing it on my tongue.
The awkwardness of everything unsaid between us squeezed viciously around my ribs. It made food taste like ash and time tick as slowly as centuries.
We ate in silence; the TV a quiet drone behind me.
Jacob had brought me here to talk. He effectively held me prisoner, and I didn’t know how much longer I could take.
I’d never felt welcome in his home.
It was even worse now.
Halfway through my meal, I asked, “Are you going to say anything or just pretend you didn’t kidnap me?”
He looked up with a soft smirk. “I didn’t kidnap you.”
“Does anyone else know I’m here?”
“Your father.”
“Cassie?”
He shook his head.
“It’s getting late, Jacob.” I pushed aside my half-eaten dinner. “I want to rest.”
“My bed is clean. Fresh sheets and blankets. I can help you shower if you want.”
I laughed coldly. “You’re not helping me shower, and I’m definitely not sleeping in your bed.”
“I’d take the spare,” he grumbled. “If you can’t stand the thought of sharing with me.”
“I can’t stay in this house. Call Cassie and ask if I can stay with her. My father won’t be much longer, I’m sure.”
He shot to his feet, snatching my dinner plate and carrying both into the kitchen. They clattered as he tossed them into the sink. “I know I deserve your temper, Hope, but fuck it’s hard to keep mine in check and not start a fight with you.”
I swivelled around to face him.
He stood with both hands braced on either side of the sink. His shoulders bunched and lips thin, his muscles taut and ready to battle.
I did my best to stay calm. “I’m not trying to draw you into a fight.”
“Then stop giving me the silent treatment.”
“The indifferent treatment, don’t you mean?” I pinned him with a deliberate stare. “Doesn’t feel nice, does it? To have someone you care about just shut you out. No anger. No connection. Nothing but coldness. How are you supposed to fight with coldness? You can’t.”
“So you’re giving me a dose of my own medicine, is that it?” He stalked toward me, fists by his sides.
I scrambled upright, grabbing my crutches and shuffling backward. “I’m not doing anything. I’m merely waiting until I can leave.”
“We need to talk.”
“We talked enough at the hospital.”
“We didn’t even begin.” He came closer.
I moved toward the corridor and the bedrooms, hopping backward gingerly. My cast clunked on the hardwood floor as I navigated the space. “I don’t want to do this again, Jacob.”
“I told you I’m in love with you. I expected some resistance but not a flat-out refusal to accept.”
“Then you have no idea how much you truly hurt me.”
He sighed with torment etching him. “I’m beginning to see that now.”
“Good.”
His eyes narrowed on mine. “What can I do to make you believe I’m in love with you?”