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Clipped by Love

Page 103

   


Holy. Mother. Of. Fucking. Shit.
Is this real life?
“You’re drunk,” I breathe, but he’s already shaking his head.
“The hell I am,” he yells at me, his body trembling, but still his eyes are so full of love. Holding his hands up, he gives me an exasperated look. “Oh, I know, it isn’t in your plan. It isn’t controllable. But love isn’t controllable, Baylor! It’s hard, it hurts, and fucking hell, it’s not predictable! It isn’t a hockey game, it isn’t like controlling a puck with a stick. It’s real and it can knock you on your ass.”
“Jayden,” I say simply because I don’t know what else to say.
“I get it, you’re scared, but don’t you understand that I’m scared too? That I think at any moment you’ll give up because of your fears, and then I’ll be left with nothing. I’ll be alone because, after being with you, there is no one else. There can’t be. You’ve ruined me, and yes, I’m being dramatic because I don’t know how to get it through that beautiful head of yours that you are everything to me.”
My mouth is moving, but nothing is coming out. Holy shit on a cracker, what is going on here? Why am I so shocked by this? “Why?”
Why? Why did I say that?
“Why?!” he yells incredulously. “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you not understand the effect you have on me? The things you do to my heart and soul… I love you with every fiber of my being because you are amazing. Beautiful. And smart as a whip, Baylor. I love you.”
I sputter, unable to process this. “But we don’t know what’s gonna happen after the draft.”
“Who cares! I can tell you that I’m going to be with you.”
With my eyes wide, I stare down at the floor as I try to catch my breath. I’m choking on the words, that’s the only thing I can say. I don’t know what to do, how to tell him that this is too much. When I look up, his eyes are begging me to say them but I can’t. Why can’t I?
Before I can even say anything though, he shakes his head. “But I can see in your eyes you don’t. So go on, go back up there and fuck the whole damn house.”
“Don’t be like that!” I yell back because that’s uncalled for. “Don’t be a jerk because I’m not saying what you want.”
“It’s not that you aren’t saying what I want, it’s that you’re not saying anything,” he yells back, and I snap my mouth shut. “Give me something. Tell me what you’re feeling. Please!”
Shrugging my shoulders, I shake my head. “I don’t know. I want to love you. I do, but I am scared of the future.”
“Ugh!” he yells in frustration. “Fuck the future, Baylor. Live in the now, because no matter what, we’ll figure it out, together.”
“You don’t know that,” I counter, but he shakes his head.
“I don’t care. All I care about is hearing you say it to me; the rest will fall into place.”
But I shake my head because I just can’t do it. I can’t just throw caution to the wind and hope it works out. I need to know. Will we work? Choking on a sob, I whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” he asks, turning to me. “For what?”
“For not being what you want me to be.”
“But that’s the thing. You are what I want. I just want you to tell me what you’re feeling. I feel like I’m spewing my emotions at a wall.”
He kinda is. Quietly, I admit, “I don’t know if I can.”
“Try! You won’t even try,” he says, throwing his hands in the air. “I’m sitting here, my nose pressed to the fucking glass that you’ve surrounded your heart with, and I’m doing everything to bash it in. Am I even cracking the damn thing?”
“Yes,” I say, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Please don’t be mad.”
“Baylor, I’m not mad. I just want you to try. If we were on the ice and this were a game, you’d scream at me what you want. Please scream at me.”
“I want you!” I finally yell, letting out a breath. “I want you to love me, I do, and I want to love you. But what if it all comes crumbling down when we go into the draft?”
“Then it crumbles and we glue it back together,” he shouts, making me jump. “Stop saying we are going to fail. Believe in us. Believe in me.”
“I do,” I admit, meeting his gaze. Then I go to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my nose to his chin. “I do believe in you. I just don’t believe in me.”
Letting out a breath, he wraps his arms around my waist, hugging me to him. Allowing a tear to fall, I squeeze my eyes shut tight as he whispers, “Try, Baylor.”
“I am.”
“Then I can’t ask for more.”
“But you want more,” I say, pulling back to look at him.
“I do. I need to know I matter to you.”
Closing my eyes, I move my nose along his. “You do matter, Jayden. So damn much.”
“Good, because I love you,” he whispers. “And I don’t plan on stopping, so as soon as you want to join the party, that would be great.”
My heart swells in my chest as his words replay in my head over and over again. I’ve dreamed about someone saying those words to me and knowing they were true. My dreams could never live up to this moment. The way his heart feels against mine, his lips warm against my forehead as the words leave his mouth. But it isn’t just the sensations, it’s the way it makes me feel.
I feel complete.
Looking up at him, I nod. “I’m working on it.”
And I am.
But I need to work harder on it.
Before I lose him.
Jayden: Wish you were here.
Smiling, I lean back against the ottoman in my dad’s living room and type back.
Me: Me too.
Jayden: Come here.
Jayden: My brother came in, surprised his fiancée and us too. It will be fun.
Chewing on my lip, I look across the living room where Dad and Markus are shooting socks at the empty Christmas boxes.
Me: I don’t want to leave my dad.
Jayden: Bring him too.
Me: ’Cause that would go well. Dad, let’s go to Sinclair’s for Christmas.
Jayden: Yeah, make sure to throw in that my mom is making pie and he’ll be down.