I rub at my lips, frustration building. Not at Jane, but at this situation. I didn’t want to do this here where there’s not an exit for her. Where she can’t run away into another room if she wants.
But I can’t wait.
I can’t spend the next however-long in this fucking cramped car with nothing but the sound of pelting snow and howling winds.
I just fucking can’t.
“Jane,” I say her name a little too loud. My ears ring. “We should talk.”
She hesitates for a long moment like she’s trapped in her brain. And then she says, “I agree.” She ties her frizzed hair to the side. “Give me a moment.” She shuts off the car and drops the keys in the cup holder. I watch as she crawls over the middle console.
I shift towards the door, giving her room.
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 am so incredibly 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 too hot 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. You are 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. It terrifies me to know that want inside of me could turn to need, and there are moments I feel myself suffocating under 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 me completely that you won’t want me or need me.”
She holds her body.
My eyes scald. “Because I love you completely, Jane, and I want and need you during the worst and best moments of my life.”
Her voice is a whisper. “You don’t have to placate me.”
“What I said is true.” I fight emotion that fists my lungs. “I fucking need you, honey. I’d be going out of my mind with guilt if I couldn’t turn to you. So many times I’ve thought about you, and you’ve made me feel good about myself.” I stop there, a rock lodged in my throat.
She has a hand to her mouth, overwhelmed.
Processing.
“I…” She swallows. “I’m still scared.”
I nod.
I gave her no reason not to be. Because I can’t fix this. A quiet moment passes. I’m unsure of where she’s mentally at.
“Can I touch you?” I ask.
“Yes.” She doesn’t hesitate.
I bridge the distance, my knee on the seat between her split thighs, and my other foot on the ground. I brace my hand to the door behind her shoulder.
Her breastbone rises and falls while I hover over her body. My right hand encases her face, my lips ghosting her lips as I whisper, “All I can promise is that I will love you and respect you, Jane. And I will never abuse your love or take advantage of what you offer me.”
Her tears wet my hand, and my eyes sear raw. She clutches my shirt with two fists. Slowly drawing me closer. We stare into each other. Frostbitten air trying to seep into the backseat, but together, we’re too volcanic to turn cold.
And we erupt.
Our lips meld in sensual, emotional force, and I hold her against my body while we dive deeper. My tongue slides against hers, warmth blazing me from inside out. She clenches her thighs around my waist, her fingers curling strands of my hair.
We’re tethered by something unexplainable, and I can’t let go.
Muscles coiled in taut bands, I’m on fire. I suck the nape of her neck, and her head tilts back, a high-pitched noise breaching her lips. She returns to kiss me like she can’t consume me fast enough, and we slow in heady, mind-spinning strokes. Our touch drawn out.
Magma.
I guide her back to the seat so she’s lying down beneath me, and we kiss and grind and with my forehead pressed to hers, she chokes out, “I want you back.”
Light explodes inside my chest. Fucking disorienting me, and with no doubt, I say, “You have me.”