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“I’m on the pill, in case you were wondering.” “I’ve had a vasectomy, in case you were wondering.” My head pivots toward him. “Because you were tired of counting sperm?” He smirks. “Exactly.” My lips twist for a few seconds. “But I do have genital herpes.” “I have crabs,” he says, glancing at me with a serious expression.
“I’m going to listen to your heart until you feel the need to make me think you don’t have one.” Fitz doesn’t respond with words. He rests one hand on my back and the other on my butt. My person.
“And when you’re inside me, I want to burrow my way under your skin, squeeze between your ribs, and hug that beating organ in your chest.” Her lips brush along my scruffy jaw. “I want to feel your pain. And I want to take it away.”
Jaymes Andrews is the best mistake I’ve ever made. And if I had it to do over, I wouldn’t change a thing.
I kiss her, but not because I’m a normal person. I kiss her because she makes it impossible not to kiss her.
I want to tell her, so she can fix the broken pieces of my life. That’s what she does; she makes everything better. But not this. She won’t understand my grief, my fears, my need to control what’s left of my life. When she reaches for the door handle, I hug her back to my chest, pinning her arms to her side. With my lips at her ear, I whisper, “I don’t pretend they’re dead. They are dead. They’re all dead.”
“I want to feel you deep inside of me.” I tease his skin just under the hem of his shirt. “And even then, it will never be enough for me.”
“I will have a life, and it will be phenomenal. I will find him, and he will be mine. And to do that, I have to let you go.” My gaze climbs up his chest to his face—his oh-so-heartbreaking face. “But I’m okay with you never letting me go. I hope you think back to this moment when your life feels lonely. And if you only remember one thing, let it be this. On a random Wednesday, the world’s most fascinating woman stopped by your work and offered you sex. But you turned her down.”
“How much longer do you think you’ll jump?” Gib, one of the rookies, asks when we’re on the plane. I squint out the window, holding my helmet in my lap. “Roughly until I die, give or take a few days.” Or lose my mind over some girl.
So my question is . . . are you feeling good about the distance? Is it enough?” Enough? When she moves to California, it won’t be enough. If she moves back to Florida, it won’t be enough. As long as she’s on this earth, the distance between us will never be enough for me not to feel her, not to want her.
A woman’s heart isn’t merely complicated; it’s the reason humanity still exists. We are the nurturers, the peacemakers. We know when silence is more profound than any spoken word. And we know that pain is not love’s enemy; it’s the existential foundation that keeps humanity rooted in this world. It’s the sole motivation to do better, get better, and be better.
“That’s because the air quality there is awful.” “Then why do you want to visit?” “Because I’m worried you left your heart in Missoula.”
“Do you love her?” “Yes.”
“None of this makes sense,” he says. “Not taking four days instead of the required two. Not booking a flight to San Bernardino while my fellow jumpers are managing fires. Not introducing you to my grandmother. Not this need to kiss you when I have nothing to offer but someone else’s version of friendship. None of it makes sense.” He blows out a long breath. “Yet here I am. Fumbling my words and wallowing around outside my comfort zone because I made you my person, and you don’t fit in my life, but my life no longer fits me without you.”
“When I purchased the plane ticket, I was coming here for you.” He lifts his gaze to mine. “When you entered the restaurant, I knew I was here for me.” I lied. I wanted him to say that, but I didn’t know it until two seconds ago. That’s the thing with love; it’s untimely, unannounced, and underestimated. It’s not a choice. It’s a state of being.
enough. The problem is, I’m not normal, so I’d love you too much.”
“Don’t love me like a martyr,” she whispers thickly, strangled with emotion. “Love me like a hero. Jump without looking back.” Her eyes pinch shut, releasing more tears while she inhales shakily. “Fight for me. Save us.”
“All because a crazy man started a fire to kill a fucking bear.” My. Heart. Stops.
I knew it. I KNEWWWW this was gonna connect oh my GOD
Fitz says he loves me in silent but humongous, heart-wrenching ways.
