Not My Romeo (The Game Changers 1)

Sitting on the steps, I blow out into the chilly March night and gaze up at the full moon. April is almost here. And spring.

The play is finally over. I close my eyes. God, I’m going to miss him.

“Figured I’d find you home.” Jack’s husky voice comes from the back door of the kitchen.

He sits next to me, easing his body down and gazing out at the faint outline of the rolling hills.

I don’t look at him, but I feel him glancing over at me, making me self-conscious. I dip my head so he can’t see my face.

The wind picks up, and I rub my arms. He gets up and heads back in the house before coming back with one of the jackets I keep on the peg by the kitchen door. He drapes it over my shoulders, his hands brushing at my hair before he takes the seat next to me, keeping a few inches between us.

A long exhalation comes from him. “I’m sorry, Elena. I freaked out over Marvin and assumed you were guilty. I was wrong.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him scrubbing a hand through his hair.

“I lost my head. Does that mean I’ve lost you too?”

I meet his gaze, seeing worry mingled with fear in his tawny eyes. “You pushed me away from you like it was nothing.”

His throat bobs. “It was pure unadulterated fear. Deep inside me, in a part I hadn’t acknowledged yet, I’d already given my heart away to you, only to hear that conversation and think everything was blowing up in my face. All my protective instincts flared up. To be made a fool of again? To believe that a woman loved me? It felt ridiculous. Women who love me usually end up hurting me in some way.”

“I’d never hurt you intentionally.”

“I know. And now I screwed us all up.”

I don’t want us to be screwed up. I want us to be . . .

He flashes a brief sad smile, sighing as he looks away. “I gave you my heart tonight in front of everyone. It felt fucking amazing.”

My stomach flutters.

“I’m also sorry that Lawrence came to see you and pissed you off.” Regret lingers in the tones of his voice. “I did so much wrong, and it’s my own damn fault for being . . . broken since the moment we met.”

I sigh. “He’s banned from the Daisy Public Library. Might put his face on a wanted poster.”

“In his defense, he really does put me first.”

I nod, circling back to something he said before. “You’re not broken, Jack. Everyone has baggage they bring to a relationship, but you have to take a leap of faith.”

He reaches in his front pants pocket and pulls out something and places something small and cold in my hand.

“What is this?” I hold it up in the light of the moon, taking in the metal object.

“My leap of faith. Key to my apartment. I had it made for you after I left Sophia, after she said I couldn’t trust you. I was just waiting for the right time to give it to you, to get my nerve up . . .” His voice softens. “I meant it as a symbol that I wanted more with you, but then I’d get nervous and not bring it up. I felt so unsure. I’ve never loved anyone. I’m stupid.” He sighs.

There’s a long silence as we stare at each other.

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

I lick my lips. “I think I’m having a revelation.”

“Yeah?” I see hope on his face.

He does love me. Oh, he told me onstage in front of everyone, but it wasn’t until this moment that I let the feeling sink in. Let myself believe it. A man like him, who doesn’t trust, was on the cusp of giving me a key, which to some may seem rather meaningless, but to him, it’s the equivalent of a declaration.

He sighs, reaching out to trace the curve of my face. “Will you forgive me, Elena?”

I gaze at him, at the intensity of him, at the man who’s been hurt so many times by people. And he’s never loved a girl.

“Forgive me for pushing you away. Forgive me for not going to Sunday lunches. Forgive me for being broken.”

Tears prick my eyes. “My nana used to say that broken people love the hardest because they appreciate the things that make their heart beat. Do I make your heart beat?”

He nods, his lashes fluttering as he comes closer, then pauses, looking uncertain. “God, Elena. I’m afraid you’re going to push me away. I know I’m not perfect, that I need to work on this, but I can’t let go of you. I spent two wretched nights without you. I never want to be this . . . sick again. I love you, Elena. So much. I don’t even know how to describe it.”