Desertion
Page 21
“Jesse, I want to find my sister. Don’t make me do something I’m not ready for,” I reply, revealing my insecurities.
“I know. Which is why I can’t do this. I shouldn’t have used this against you. I’m sorry for putting this on you, Bell.” He slides out of the booth and stands.
“What? Where are you going?” I ask, panicked when my last chance of finding Paige is slipping away.
“I’m leaving. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll do what I can to help you find Paige. We don’t have to do this.”
“Wait.” The word falls over my lips before I know what I’m saying. He stops when my hand reaches up to his. “I don’t understand,” I stumble a little. What is it with him? I feel like he’s so hot and cold and I’m left dealing with the after effects and can’t catch up.
“You’re a good girl, Bell. I shouldn’t have asked you here.” He shakes his head. “You should go.”
“What if I don’t want to go?” Why I’m asking I don’t know, but my body refuses to get up and leave. Jesse has just given me an out, but the thought of cutting the date short disappoints me.
“You should want to go,” he whispers and I know he’s right, but tonight has been a night of firsts. This is the first time I’m listening to my heart, not my head.
“Why?” I ask, not understanding why he went through all this trouble to get me on a date and not even ten minutes into said date, he’s ready to leave.
“Believe me when I tell you I don’t want to leave, but I should,” he continues, not making sense to me.
“I’d very much like you to stay.” He doesn’t say anything nor does he move to come back to the booth, so I push a little more.
“Please.”
“If you insist, sweetheart.” He slides back in and the butterflies that have been swarming since I agreed to this date flutter and take flight again. I know a man like Jesse Carter is bad news, but I’ve come this far. Why give up so soon?
Nine JESSE
“Oh, my God.” Bell laughs at my stupid joke and I can’t help but laugh along with her. I’ve never wanted to make anyone laugh as much as I do with Bell. It’s been a few hours; we’ve eaten, talked, laughed and I even shared a few stories of my past.
“Do you take anything seriously?” she asks and I stop smiling to weigh her question.
“I spent a long time being serious, Bell.” She stops smiling this time and sits a little straighter.
“I can imagine it must have been hard for you, Jesse,” she says, looking up at me, and for a minute, I worry she can see past it all—the façade I put on for the world—but I know I’m over thinking it . Fuck, I’m not that person anymore. Some might say it would be impossible to call me serious. My father would say I’ve never taken anything seriously in my life, but it’s not the truth. When you’ve lived a life like mine, serious becomes you. I, for one, know what it’s like to stare death in the face, all those past disappointments, past pains, past losses, it all becomes meaningless. You become thankful for the goodness around, you become grateful for the second chances and you see everything in a different light.
“There’s a time and a place for serious, sweetheart,” I say, not prepared to get into it with her tonight. Our date, if you would call it that, has been anything but serious, and now is not the time to head down that path.
“You’re a puzzle, Jesse. You really are.” She takes a sip of her soda and I hold back my smile. When we ordered, I expected her to order some fancy chick drink, but she informed me she doesn’t drink alcohol. I don’t know why it pleases me, but it does. Maybe because she is just different from what I’m used to. It might make me a hypocrite but I don’t give a fuck. Dealing with someone who drinks and changes under the influence gets under my skin.
“You trying to figure me out, Bell?” I bounce my brows and just like that, a blush spreads across her cheeks. I’m walking a dangerous line teasing and playing with her like this, but I can’t help it. I tried to walk away, tried to spare her the pain and heartbreak I would eventually bring to her, but when she reached out her hand and touched me, I knew I was fucked. What is it about her? I know I’ll never be what she needs, but it’s not stopping me from getting what I need.
“I should get going.” She ignores my flirting and reaches for her phone.
“Don’t run away. I’ll behave, promise,” I half beg. If only the boys could see me now. Begging a woman to stay so we can talk more. I’m just not ready for her to leave me right now. I need to know more about her and what it is that draws me to her.
“You, behave?” She snorts and I burst out laughing.
“You’re a snorter,” I accuse and watch her eyes bug out of her head. Jesus, she’s cute.
“I am not!” she scoffs but I can tell she agrees. “I really should get going. My mom will freak out if I’m too late,” she says as she types into her phone. I look down at my watch and see it’s half past twelve.
“You have a curfew?” I don’t know if she’s joking, or if she is just trying to get out of our date early. I know she is a little younger than me, but at twenty-three, you would think she shouldn’t have to worry about her parents.
“Not really.” She tips her head sideways. It’s only a small gesture, but something changes in her eyes, like she’s lost in a memory and can’t find her way out. “My mom kind of freaks out if I’m out too late. Ever since Paige never came home, she’d been different.”
“I know. Which is why I can’t do this. I shouldn’t have used this against you. I’m sorry for putting this on you, Bell.” He slides out of the booth and stands.
“What? Where are you going?” I ask, panicked when my last chance of finding Paige is slipping away.
“I’m leaving. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll do what I can to help you find Paige. We don’t have to do this.”
“Wait.” The word falls over my lips before I know what I’m saying. He stops when my hand reaches up to his. “I don’t understand,” I stumble a little. What is it with him? I feel like he’s so hot and cold and I’m left dealing with the after effects and can’t catch up.
“You’re a good girl, Bell. I shouldn’t have asked you here.” He shakes his head. “You should go.”
“What if I don’t want to go?” Why I’m asking I don’t know, but my body refuses to get up and leave. Jesse has just given me an out, but the thought of cutting the date short disappoints me.
“You should want to go,” he whispers and I know he’s right, but tonight has been a night of firsts. This is the first time I’m listening to my heart, not my head.
“Why?” I ask, not understanding why he went through all this trouble to get me on a date and not even ten minutes into said date, he’s ready to leave.
“Believe me when I tell you I don’t want to leave, but I should,” he continues, not making sense to me.
“I’d very much like you to stay.” He doesn’t say anything nor does he move to come back to the booth, so I push a little more.
“Please.”
“If you insist, sweetheart.” He slides back in and the butterflies that have been swarming since I agreed to this date flutter and take flight again. I know a man like Jesse Carter is bad news, but I’ve come this far. Why give up so soon?
Nine JESSE
“Oh, my God.” Bell laughs at my stupid joke and I can’t help but laugh along with her. I’ve never wanted to make anyone laugh as much as I do with Bell. It’s been a few hours; we’ve eaten, talked, laughed and I even shared a few stories of my past.
“Do you take anything seriously?” she asks and I stop smiling to weigh her question.
“I spent a long time being serious, Bell.” She stops smiling this time and sits a little straighter.
“I can imagine it must have been hard for you, Jesse,” she says, looking up at me, and for a minute, I worry she can see past it all—the façade I put on for the world—but I know I’m over thinking it . Fuck, I’m not that person anymore. Some might say it would be impossible to call me serious. My father would say I’ve never taken anything seriously in my life, but it’s not the truth. When you’ve lived a life like mine, serious becomes you. I, for one, know what it’s like to stare death in the face, all those past disappointments, past pains, past losses, it all becomes meaningless. You become thankful for the goodness around, you become grateful for the second chances and you see everything in a different light.
“There’s a time and a place for serious, sweetheart,” I say, not prepared to get into it with her tonight. Our date, if you would call it that, has been anything but serious, and now is not the time to head down that path.
“You’re a puzzle, Jesse. You really are.” She takes a sip of her soda and I hold back my smile. When we ordered, I expected her to order some fancy chick drink, but she informed me she doesn’t drink alcohol. I don’t know why it pleases me, but it does. Maybe because she is just different from what I’m used to. It might make me a hypocrite but I don’t give a fuck. Dealing with someone who drinks and changes under the influence gets under my skin.
“You trying to figure me out, Bell?” I bounce my brows and just like that, a blush spreads across her cheeks. I’m walking a dangerous line teasing and playing with her like this, but I can’t help it. I tried to walk away, tried to spare her the pain and heartbreak I would eventually bring to her, but when she reached out her hand and touched me, I knew I was fucked. What is it about her? I know I’ll never be what she needs, but it’s not stopping me from getting what I need.
“I should get going.” She ignores my flirting and reaches for her phone.
“Don’t run away. I’ll behave, promise,” I half beg. If only the boys could see me now. Begging a woman to stay so we can talk more. I’m just not ready for her to leave me right now. I need to know more about her and what it is that draws me to her.
“You, behave?” She snorts and I burst out laughing.
“You’re a snorter,” I accuse and watch her eyes bug out of her head. Jesus, she’s cute.
“I am not!” she scoffs but I can tell she agrees. “I really should get going. My mom will freak out if I’m too late,” she says as she types into her phone. I look down at my watch and see it’s half past twelve.
“You have a curfew?” I don’t know if she’s joking, or if she is just trying to get out of our date early. I know she is a little younger than me, but at twenty-three, you would think she shouldn’t have to worry about her parents.
“Not really.” She tips her head sideways. It’s only a small gesture, but something changes in her eyes, like she’s lost in a memory and can’t find her way out. “My mom kind of freaks out if I’m out too late. Ever since Paige never came home, she’d been different.”
