Page 41 of Jesse

But people can change, right?

I sure did. I don’t even recognize myself right now.

“Emma,” he says, once the distance between us is closed. He tentatively places a hand on my hip. Grips it.

And when I don’t push him away, he places the other one on my other hip. Tugs me towards him.

Am I crazy? Is he coming on to me?

Surely not. After what we did? No.

“Emma,” he says again. “I’m sorry I left you back in Key West. I explained this to you before I even knew it was you. I didn’t have time to think it through, and I was high back then. I couldn’t think it through. But I thought about you for so long afterward. You were my one regret. The only real regret I’ve ever had with a woman. And if I could go back in time I would’ve just talked to you that night. Built something real first. So that when the moment came and I had to leave, you’d know something was wrong. And it wasn’t you, it really was me.”

I realize I’m holding my breath and let it out. “Really?” I say. Because I can’t help myself. When I fell for him, I really fell for him. And I never got back up.

“Really,” he says, leaning into my neck.

His lips are so soft. So tender, a chill runs up my spine and makes me shudder and suck in a breath.

“Like that?” he asks, nibbling on my ear.

“Mmm,” I manage to moan.

“Because I do,” he whispers. “I like it a lot. I’d like to nibble you all over.”

Jesus Christ. I feel like a teenager again. My stomach is tied up in knots and there’s a heat between my legs that’s been missing action for so long now, I almost can’t control myself.

But then I get a hold of myself and pull away.

“What?” he asks.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” he asks, leaning in again.

But both my hands immediately come up to his chest and push him back. “Why are you doing this?”

“Uh… because I like you.”

“I drugged you. I had you kidnapped. That was me. That was my plan. I did that. So what the hell are you doing?’

“For fuck’s sake, Emma. I just told you I’ve been missing you all these years and tonight we reconnected and I felt that all over again. Why can’t you just accept that I like you?”

“See points above,” I snap. “You’re doing it again, aren’t you?’

“Doing what?”

“Playing me!” I say. It comes out a little shriek-y.

“OK,” he says, pulling away, removing his hands from my hips so he can hold them up in the air like he’s surrendering. “Let me spell it out for you. We,” he says, pointing first to himself, then to me, “had a little connection back in the day. Do you agree? Or not?”

“I only know what I felt. I have no idea what you felt.”

“Listen,” he says, rubbing his temple. “I’m telling you right now what I felt. Either you believe me or you don’t. But”—he holds up a hand when I open my mouth to protest—“if you don’t believe me, then that’s on you. OK? Not me. I didn’t know who you were at the Tastee-Freez. But I did tell you, several times, that you felt familiar. Remember that?”

I nod. Because it’s true. He did.

“And that was before you pulled your little stunt. So what’s it gonna be? You wanna do this? Or walk away?”