Beg, Borrow, or Steal (When in Rome, #3)

by Sarah Adams

Hello, little honey bees. You glorious, sharp-edged, perfection seekers. You’ve been working so hard, holding everything together; come sit down with me for a while and take a load off.

I tend to speak my mind, and have it bite me in the ass too often,

As all good and unbearable perfectionists know, if you want something done right, you mostly have to do it yourself.

airing everyone’s dirty laundry with a bit of but it’s not my place to judge sprinkled on top just in case the good Lord is listening.

Everyone is dead. Dead, dead, dead.

Not because I’m protecting him, but because I’d rather do it to his face where he can react. It’s more fun that way.

He knows better than to argue with me when my mind is set on something.

Generally wary of people until they prove worthy of our trust.

I’m all too happy to voice my opinions.

In fact, I have to hold back ninety-eight percent of the time, and that two percent can st...

Everything was changing, no one needed me, and I needed…to just be okay.

He’s the one person in this entire world who doesn’t shrink from the sharpest words I could throw. He catches them between his fingers and lobs them right back.

Loneliness will make a person do scary things.

I don’t trust whatever is going on in that head of hers but I’m excited for it all the same.

Except for one problem: I forgot that I’m high maintenance.

When there’s nothing but gaping darkness, the word alone seems to pulse around me. It’s a salivating monster in every corner.

I bite my smile. “You’re a relentless pain in the ass.” “Thank you.”

And when she found me watching, she told me to find someone someday who will hug me when I’m sad and then help me look on the bright side of things when all I can see is the dark.

“Because I may be a lot of things, but I never want to be the kind of person who can’t apologize when I’m in the wrong.

“Just how often do you picture me, Jackson?” I guess a little of that flirtation from the road has lingered.

His smile is a feral thing. “More than either of us is comfortable with.”

You caught me just before I left to get all the stuff.”

a lie i have told & probably will again.

(My horns are looking dull. What polish do you usually use for yours?)

No one needs me. And when they don’t need me, they don’t come around anymore either because I am a utility sponge. I am useful. And if I’m no use to someone anymore, they throw me under the sink.

The darkness I keep running from opens up in front of me and offers to keep me warm for the next few days.

I’m afraid to. He’ll see how messy it is. How dark in some corners. Sometimes it even scares me in here. When I’m not moving, when I’m not busy, when I’m not needed, it’s so, so lonely.

And second, I wear pretty lingerie for me. Not men.”

The one who isn’t spiraling internally. The one who would do anything, sacrifice everything for them.

I am nothing if not blunt,

“Is anything in life actually safe?”

“Kiss my ass,” that gentlemanly mouth whispers back at me.

“Because you’re the only person I’m nothing but honest with.”

“I’ll be so careful with you, Emily,” he says, but I don’t have the heart to ask him if he means on the motorcycle or not.

I lean, you lean, got it, Goldie?”

And I’m not wearing a bra because this is my home, and I will not endure that torture device first thing in the morning.

AMEN

Coming back home alone is so much more preferable to always stressing and wondering if I’m going to be enough for someone or if I’m going to say too much, show too much of myself, and scare them away when I’m just getting comfortable.

“That seems selfish,” I breathe out. The curve of his mouth is a potent drug. “I love when a woman is selfish.”

Jack (8:15 AM): PS. You could never be a side character.

“But if you don’t want to hate her, fine. I’ll hate her enough for the both of us.”

I want to make up for every day of every year I spent fighting with her instead of loving her.

I laugh once. “I’m the oldest daughter, I’m not scared of anything.” I pause as memories hit me wave after wave. And for the first time in my life, I say them out loud. “Someone has to hold it together. Someone had to lift the blanket on her bed and let her sisters climb in when the thunder would shake the house. Someone had to assure them that her bed was the safest place in the world.” Even when my own hands were trembling. “I was always promising them that I would never go anywhere, and my door would always be open for them.”

“You are not alone, Emily. I would walk through my worst memories to get to you every single time.”

“I don’t want to be one of the guys. I want to be yours.”

You only told me tonight, years after knowing me, because you were finally comfortable and ready, but you’re demanding vulnerability from me when it best suits you.

“Good. Life can be a little shit sometimes. But shit also makes great fertilizer.”

“Grow from your experiences, don’t let them smother the light out of you.”

“Emily…when I told you I care for you, I mean it. It’s not that I care for some aspects of you, not that I care for you when you’re in a good mood…I care for you always. I want you, always. The good, the bad, and the in-between. I. Want. You. Sharp edges, hot tempered, fiercely protective, gooey heart…all of it. All of you.

Don’t let him be the most wonderful thing that never happened to you because you were scared to give it a try.

But I remind myself that I’m not a kid anymore. He has no power over me.

And when my fourth book comes out next year and you watch it top the charts—I want you to know that AJ Ranger did it without using your fucking name.”