“I’m fine—”
“Don’t. Just don’t,” I practically snapped. “Give me a little more credit than that. I know when the person I love most in the world is struggling with something. I mean, shit, I used to be the reigning queen of struggling through life. Don’t treat me like I can be appeased with a I’m fine or that I’m happy to play ignorant and accept what you want me to believe. I’m not that person, Jesse. I’m the person who’s willing to walk through hell with you because I know the way. I’m the person who will be with you the whole way until you come out on the other side. Got it?” I hadn’t been expecting that impassioned speech to just pour from me, but apparently I’d been bottling it up. It actually felt like a relief to get it out.
Jesse sighed. “Rowen, I can’t—”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both,” he admitted with another sigh.
I shook my head. “And who does that sound like? Who does that remind you of? Because it sure as hell reminds me of a certain someone sitting beside you who didn’t want to open up to anybody last summer. Who did everything she could to push people away.” I nudged Jesse and squeezed his hand. “Until another certain someone said too bad, got her to open up, and wouldn’t let her push him away.”
“What are you saying, Rowen? I got a little confused with all of the certain someones.” Jesse managed a small smile.
“I’m saying it’s time for me to repay the favor, buddy. So be prepared.”
Jesse’s arm went around my neck, and he pulled me close. Pressing his lips to my forehead, he kept them there for a few breaths. “I just fell a little more in love with you.”
“That was the whole point.”
We sat like that for a few minutes. Silent and still, content just to be near one another. Then I heard Jesse’s stomach grumble. Actually, I felt it, too.
“Holy . . . Either you swallowed an angry gnome or your stomach is staging a revolt.” I patted his stomach. “When did you eat last?”
“Um . . . six this morning. Maybe seven?”
“Jesse Walker! You need to take better care of yourself. You’re a growing boy, you know.” Grabbing my lunch bag, I upended its contents onto the table. “Here. Eat.” I pulled out my peanut butter sandwich and handed it to him, ready to hold him down and force feed him if necessary.
Then, because life was too short and those kinds of moments were too few, I smashed the sandwich into his mouth like we’d just cut into our wedding cake and I was that bride.
Jesse’s eyes went wide with surprise, but it didn’t take him long to catch up. He was used to those random moments of crazy from me. Grabbing my wrist, Jesse moved it away from his face toward mine.
“No, Jesse. Don’t you dare!” I laughed, trying to dodge the smashed peanut butter sandwich. Just as I was certain I was going to take it in the face, he let go of my wrist. Instead of peanut butter, his lips covered my mouth. Because Jesse Walker was that kind of groom.
Although, since his mouth was covered with peanut butter, I suppose he still got a bit of payback. When Jesse’s mouth left mine, I held out the mangled sandwich. “Eat your dinner, Casanova.”
Jesse laughed, took the sandwich half, and devoured it in two bites. “I guess I was hungrier than I thought.”
“I better save the Cheetos for Mar, just in case she shows up tonight.”
Jesse stopped chewing the carrot he’d just popped in his mouth. His face froze up again.
“What’s up?” I asked, dropping my hand on his forearm. “Bad carrot?”
He gave his head a swift shake, clearing his face a bit. “Something like that.”
“Don’t eat any more of those little bastard carrots then,” I teased, exchanging the baggie of carrots for an apple.
Jesse forced out a laugh, but it was strained. “So . . . Mar? That’s her name?” He paused, looking like he’d just bitten into something sour. “This is the homeless lady who’s been giving you so much self, life, and relationship advice?”
“Hey, she might not have a fancy degree, but you can’t frame a real-life experience certificate. I don’t agree with everything she says, but she makes some valid points.” I’d mentioned Mar to Jesse a few times over the past month. He hadn’t been thrilled that I was hanging with a homeless lady and, even though he’d never outright said it, I knew he was concerned that I was taking her advice to heart. Especially when it came to the relationship advice she was always so eager to shell out.
“Valid points about what? Settling down too young? Not being tied down to anything or anyone? Moving to Tahiti and selling coconut juice from a beachside trailer?” Jesse’s mouth curved up on one side before biting into the apple.
“Okay, every point but that last one was totally whack. Because, really, everyone knows you haven’t lived until you’ve sold overpriced, water-downed coconut juice to wealthy tourists from a sweltering tin-can of a trailer.”
“Everyone knows that,” Jesse said around a bite of apple.
“Mar is mad smart.”
“Have you talked to Mar about us?”
“A little, not too much.” Mar knew I had a boyfriend, but I kept the specifics to myself—I hadn’t even told her his name. But that didn’t keep her from making assumptions about us and doling out words of wisdom based on those assumptions. Jesse nodded, working something out in his head. “What? Tell me.”
Jesse set down the apple and twisted toward me. “I don’t know. It just seems weird that you’re talking about us with a woman you know next to nothing about.”
My eyebrows came together. “Why?”
“Some things you need to keep protected, you know? Some things you don’t share with just anybody. You choose the people in your life you open up to about the sacred things because those are the people truly invested and concerned about your life. Anyone you run into will be eager to give you advice, but are they really taking your best interests into consideration? Or are they simply letting their own experiences and biases mold the advice they give you?”
I let all of that digest before replying. “Shouldn’t they? I mean, aren’t we all shaped by our experiences and biases?”
“Yes, of course, and someone who truly knows and loves you will give you advice, but it will be after taking you into consideration, not themselves.”
Well, crap. That made a whole lot of sense. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve given this so much thought.”
“I give everything a whole lot of thought. Especially when it’s related to you and me.”
“I’m such an under-thinking slacker,” I muttered, tearing a corner off one of Jesse’s maple bars. The non-bacon corner.
“No, you’re not. I’m just a paranoid over-thinker.”
“Maybe just a little.” I pinched the air in front of him, making him laugh.
“Come here.” He kissed me softly, barely a peck, but it felt so damn good. “Just be careful who you open up to. That’s all I’m saying. In fact, that’s what I should have just said instead of giving you a five-minute presentation.”
“Wait, are you now telling me to not open up so much? Is this the same guy who, not even a year ago, was hounding me for two months straight about opening up and letting people in?”
Jesse gave me a Give me a break look. “I’m saying there are extremes on either end of the opening up spectrum. Being at the so-open-your-brains-are-going-to-fall-out spot is just as unhealthy as opening up for no one, not even yourself.”
I pulled another piece of maple bar and popped it into my mouth, giving Jesse’s words some thought. I saw his point—I always did—but I couldn’t get completely on board with it. I talked about Jesse with friends and acquaintances because he played such an important role in my life. What could I do if those people took it upon themselves to offer their two cents worth? Stuff a sock in their mouths? Clamp my hands over my ears and walk away? No. People liked to give advice; that was human nature. As the saying went, Opinions are like a**holes; everyone’s got one. So what if someone offered me some misguided advice? I didn’t have to listen and let it affect my relationship with Jesse.
I hadn’t been doing that . . .
Or had I?
Everything became a bit blurred the longer I thought about it, so I decided to shelve it and come back to it later. Too much thinking, not enough kissing.
“It seems I’m destined to be unhealthy no matter what I do. I think I need help,” I teased, though only partly so. Everyone needed a little, or in my case, a lot, of help to get through life.
“That’s what I’m here for. I’m here to help you when and if you need it.”
I twisted in the booth to make sure I was looking at him straight on. “You know that goes both ways right? I’m here to help you when and if you need it. And maybe even if you won’t admit you need help, I’ll do it anyways because I’m all pushy like that.” My words made Jesse’s forehead wrinkle, as I’d expected they would. I should have just leaned in and kissed him. Kissed the living breath out of him. Kissed him until he forgot who he was and where he was.
I should have, but the moment passed us by when the door jingled open again.
“That would have been one hell of a kiss,” Jesse said, his eyes dropping to my mouth.
“Probably the kiss to end all kisses.” I played along. “Eat your bacon maple bars and I’ll go help the customers, and then maybe we can pick up right where we almost left off.” I winked as I slid out of the booth.
Jesse groaned in torture.
I laughed and glanced at the customer heading toward us. “Hey, you’re early.”
“I’d say I’m too late,” Mar replied, inspecting the empty baggies on the table. From the looks of it, she’d had a shower. Well, and from the smell of it, too. A woman’s shelter nearby opened up once a week to offer showers, lunch, and an activity to the homeless in the city. I’d looked it up and told Mar about it, and she’d been going for the past few weeks. I think the weekly showers were the only reason Sid allowed her in the shop.
“Don’t worry. We saved you some. And this is great timing because I really wanted you to meet someone.”
“Who? The boy I’ve been warning you against settling down with? Sure, I’ll meet him. I’ll tell him to get lost unless he wants to see your future ruined.”
My mouth opened in shock. Mar had said some odd things in my weeks of knowing her, but never anything quite so cruel. Jesse, who was back to working on the apple, went rail stiff in the booth. Obviously her words had shocked him as much as they had me.
“Um . . . maybe you should leave, Mar?” I didn’t want to manhandle her out, but I would if she didn’t leave.
“No. Why doesn’t he?”
I glanced at Jesse, who was slowly twisting in his seat. When his eyes locked on Mar, his entire face fell and went ash white. His hands curled into fists and it looked like he’d stopped breathing. He didn’t just look like he was staring at a ghost . . . he looked like he was staring at the devil.