Be with Me (37 page)

She was right, but there was nothing about her words that looked like she even convinced herself, and my stomach twisted even further. I just needed to ask him. And I would the first chance I had. I’d ask him if he was okay and he’d tell me everything was fine and I’d just feel stupid afterward for making a big deal out of nothing.

Jase’s mood hadn’t improved much when he arrived to music. He’d said hi to Calla, smiled at me, and then stared straight ahead, like he was engrossed in what our professor was droning on about. Which was such BS, because I didn’t think one person in the entire class had any idea what was going on.

And that smile of his—it had been so tight and never reached his steely gaze. The smile was all wrong. It was fake. It reminded me of Dr. Morgan’s smile. It reminded me of the police officers’ as they’d ushered me out of their offices.

My palms were sweaty, causing the grip on my pen to slip. I’d scribbled maybe two or three lines during the entire class. After saying good-bye to Calla, I crutched my way to where Jase had parked. He’d taken my bag as usual, putting it on the floor by my feet to make it easier for me to grab.

Not seeing a familiar pink box, I bit down on my lip as I watched him make his way around the front of the Jeep. With the gray toboggan hat pulled low, only the ends of his hair peeked out from underneath it. He hoisted himself up, closing the door behind him. The hard set of his jaw caused my stomach to flop.

My mouth was dry as he backed out and hit the main road leading to east campus. Riddled with anxiety and uncertainty, I used the entire time while he searched for a parking spot near the Byrd Center to work up the nerve to speak.

Hands clasped tightly together, I swallowed hard. “Is everything okay?”

Jase turned off the engine and pulled the keys out. Sitting back, he lifted his free hand and smoothed it over the toboggan. My muscles seized up as the seconds ticked by in tense silence.

“No,” he said finally, voice so low I thought I heard him incorrectly. “Everything is not okay.”

I opened my mouth, but anything I was about to say died on the tip of my tongue when he looked at me. Oh, this was going to be bad. Very bad. I seized up, muscles rigid.

“I don’t know how to say this.” He pressed his lips together while a burn picked up in the back of my throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” I croaked out. Because he couldn’t be sorry for what happened between us. Absolutely no way.

He looked away, tilting his head to the side. “This is just too much.”

I blinked slowly, feeling like I missed the beginning half of this conversation. “What is?”

“This,” he stated with force, raising his hands. “All of this is too much—you and me.”

My nails were leaving little indents in my palms from how tightly I was clenching my hands. “I . . . I don’t understand.” Those words sounded weak and pathetic to my own ears, and the blood drained from my face. “What’s going on?”

“It’s too much.” He closed his eyes, features pinched and strained. “It’s too much too soon.”

“What? Us? We’re moving too fast?” He thought so because we’d had sex? That seemed wildly out of character for someone with his reputation. I got that he wanted to do things right, and last night had been
right
. “We can slow down if that’s what you think we need—”

“I can’t do this,” he interrupted, opening his eyes. “It’s too serious and I thought I was ready for that, but I’m not.”

He thought he wasn’t ready? What in the hell was holding him back? I knew about Jack and how it would impact a future with—it occurred to me then as I took my next breath. This wasn’t about Jack or us. This was about Jack’s
mother
.

“This is about her, isn’t it? You’re—”

“I’m not talking about her,” he snapped, and something cracked in my chest, a deep fissure that spread throughout, cleaving me in two as he spoke. “I don’t want anything serious. Not with Jack being so young, and I need to focus on graduating, getting a job, and helping raise Jack.”

“And none of that includes me?”

His clouded gaze met mine for an instant. “It doesn’t. It can’t. Because I can’t go through . . .” His jaw locked down as he gave a quick jerk of his head. “I’m sorry. Please know I never meant to hurt you. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. You have to believe that.”

My chest rose sharply, and it felt like he’d reached inside me and crushed my lungs into a crumpled-up wad of paper. The burn in my chest increased, building behind my eyes. I tried to calm down, but that hurting was raw and real.

“And I know I’ve hurt you and I’m so fucking sorry for that.” He glanced at me quickly, and he tensed. The crack deepened. “I’ll still pick you up for school and get you to your classes,” he rushed on as I stared at him. “So I don’t want you to worry about that.”

I reared back, pressing against the door as what he was saying finally sunk through the shock. The seat—the floor—dropped out from underneath me. I blinked back hot, stinging tears. “Just to make sure I understand this. You don’t want to be my boyfriend, but you want to be my chauffeur?”

Jase’s brows furrowed together. “I want to be your friend, Tess. Not your chauffeur.”

Sucking in a shallow breath, I turned my attention to the front of the car. My thoughts raced as my stomach continued to do gymnastics. My skin tingled and felt tight.

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop saying that!” A tear rolled down my cheek, and I roughly wiped it away. “Just stop apologizing, because that makes this so much worse.”

He said nothing as he nodded his acquisition.

My hands shook as I reached for my bag. Numbly, I picked up my bag and reached for the door. He didn’t try to stop me as I slid out awkwardly, but he looked like he was about to get out to hand over the crutches.

“Don’t,” I said, voice hoarse. “I don’t want your help.”

Jase stilled in his seat, nostrils flared. “But I want to help you, Tess. I want us to—”

“To be friends?” I choked on my laugh. “Are you serious?”

He looked completely serious.

And that made this so much more screwed up to even think about, and it summed up just how shallow the depth of his feelings was for me. “We can’t be friends.
I
can’t be friends with you, because I
love
you, and you’ve
hurt
me.”

He flinched, and I got no satisfaction out of it. I tugged my crutches free, the motion unsettling me and I stumbled back, dropping my book bag.

“Tess!” He opened the door. “Goddamnit, let me help you.”

Cursing under my breath and through a sheen of tears, I picked it up and slugged it over my shoulder. He was standing in front of me by then, holding my crutches.

I snatched them away from him, shaking. “I wish you had decided that this was too much for you
before
we told my brother we were together.” My voice gave out to a strangled sob as I backed away. “I wish you would’ve figured this out
before
we made love.”

Jase jerked back, his lips parted.

I turned from him and without looking back, I started away from the Jeep. Not toward the Den, because I couldn’t face Cam and Avery. Slamming the crutches into the ground, I focused on a bench near Knutti. I needed to keep it together and I needed to keep calm. Losing it in public would just add to my humiliation.

Oh God, Cam was going to flip out. He was going to—the rubber end of the left crutch snapped off, nearly sending me to the sidewalk.

Frustrated and feeling a thousand other emotions, I evened out my weight on my legs and took the crutches, shoving them into a nearby trash bin. They stuck out like legs, and a couple of people walking by passed me weird looks as I limped across the street, toward an empty bench.

My knee was already throbbing as I sat down, but I didn’t care, because it was nothing compared to the feeling inside me. I dug my elbows into my thighs, resting my head against my palms, and squeezed my eyes shut against the rush of blinding tears.

What happened?

Jase had been so perfect this weekend and last night . . . last night had been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. We hadn’t screwed. We hadn’t fucked. We’d made love. It had been the perfect, the right moment, but . . .

Oh God, was I such a fool that I initiated it? That I had taken words uttered in the moment of heat and passion as being the real thing.

I’d never felt more young or stupid than I did in that moment. In two weeks I’d be nineteen, but I suddenly felt too young and too old.

A cold wind whipped up through the walkway, stirring my hair around me. I shivered, but I barely felt the chilly October air. I curled my fingers in, tangling them with my hair. Tears soaked my lashes and my arms trembled.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but I was losing my hold on myself. There was no way I was going to make it through my afternoon classes. Digging out my cell, I sent a text to Calla, begging her to pick me up and take me to my dorm. When she responded that she was on her way, I told her where I was and slipped the cell back into my bag.

Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly as I let my teary gaze drift over the lawn. I stiffened when I saw Erik standing under the small, bare tree near the sidewalk.

He was staring right back at me.

A fine shiver skated down my spine as he pushed away from the tree, crossing the distance between us with long-legged paces. He was the last person I wanted to deal with, especially considering what I suspected.

As he grew closer, I could see he looked just as bad as I did but for very different reasons. His usually styled hair was a mess, and his face was pale. “You told the police that I was with Debbie before she . . . before she died.”

Blinking several times, I leaned back and tried to sort out my thoughts enough to hold a conversation I so didn’t want to have. “I told them about the pink scarf and—”

“I wasn’t there. She broke up with me as I’m sure you know and were fucking thrilled about.” He bent at the waist, getting right up in my face. So close that I could see the fine lines around the corners of his eyes. “And you told them that I hit her. You know that’s not true.”

Disbelief rocketed through me. Shit on a bull, I knew that was true!

“So if you know what’s good for you,” he said, “keep your fucking mouth shut.”

Twenty-five

W
hat a dick!” Calla clutched a carton of ice cream we’d found in the fridge. “Fuck guys. Seriously. Fuck them and not in a good way.”

My eyes were blurry and puffy as I watched her pace. There was a lot about Jase that Calla didn’t know and I wouldn’t tell her out of respect for his privacy. As much as he hurt me, I wasn’t about to announce to the world that he had a son and was most likely still very much in love with the mother of his child.

Because wasn’t that what this was really about? He hadn’t been ready for something serious, and I knew so very little about this girl, where she lived, if she was in some way still in the picture, or how long the two had been split. Knowing that his heart quite likely belonged to someone else made me feel all the more foolish. The first time he’d refused to talk about her should’ve been warning enough, and yet, I ignored it.

“Yeah, fuck ’em,” I whispered.

She stopped in front of me, holding out the ice cream. “More?”

I shook my head, clutching the pillow to my too full stomach.

Sighing, she plopped down next to me. “I’m so sorry, Teresa. This is the last thing you need right now—your knee, Debbie, and crazy-pants Erik.”

“I guess it could be worse,” I murmured, thinking about how I was never going to be able to sleep in that bed again. I knew it would still carry his scent and I couldn’t bear that. Run out of my dorm and my bed, I was about to become close friends with this couch.

Calla gave me a quizzical look. “I’m pretty sure you’ve eaten a shit sandwich this last week or so.”

That much was true, but Debbie still had it worse than me. At least I was alive. Closing my eyes, I rubbed my aching brow. “I don’t think I’m ever going to have sex again.”