Dirty Thoughts - Megan Erickson Page 0,34

she moved her head, and he closed his eyes, relishing the heat of her body against his. She didn’t deny it, because she’d already told him how she felt. So that was that. Impasse.

He could have let it go, but Jenna’s presence always made him spill his guts. He needed her to understand. He needed her to believe why he felt this strongly. “Did I tell you Max got attacked and put in the hospital?”

She shifted around his body so she stood in front of him. “What?”

“Last year he was in college, some assholes were assaulting and robbing people. They had a gun when they got him, whipped him in the back of the head. He got away because he’s a fucking hero and called the police before collapsing.”

She gasped. “Oh my God.”

“He’s fine now. You saw him. He’s happy. Engaged. But I swear to God, that took five years off of my life when I got that phone call and then another ten when I saw him in that hospital with a bandage on his head.”

She wrapped her fingers around his forearm and squeezed. “I’m so sorry.”

“So I know it may seem stupid to you, or . . . I don’t know . . . immature or something. But I have rules for me. It’s how I’ve lived for the past ten years, and I know it’s what works.”

She opened her mouth, but he shook his head. “Wish I could change, but I just don’t think I can. Got enough people in my life right now that I worry about all the time. My dad and Max and Brent. I’m going to worry about you too now, even when this is over. I can’t help that, because you’re Jenna. But I can help putting myself into an early grave by taking on you and everything that would come with you.”

She frowned. “I don’t want you to change. And what do you mean, take me on? I’m not a project. You get back what you put into it. You think I wouldn’t worry and be responsible for you too?” Her voice softened. “A relationship is give-and-take. It’s not all on your shoulders.”

He looked away, unable to see the hurt on her face. He didn’t believe that. It’d been a long time since he’d felt like he was given anything. And that was fine; he wasn’t bitching about it. But he wasn’t throwing more of himself into anyone else either. He turned to walk back into the house.

“So that’s the end of the conversation?” Jenna asked, her voice steady and a little hard. “You’re just gonna walk away—”

He whirled to face her. “I don’t have anything left!” His voice came out louder than he meant it, and her head snapped like he’d slapped her. He took a deep breath and counted to ten before he spoke again, keeping his tone low. “I’m tapped out. Drained dry. I’m not who I was back when we were together. And I’m sorry for that. I truly am. Wish I could be more, and I wish I could do this with you, but I can’t.”

Her eyes blinked rapidly, but he saw no tears. She swallowed and lifted her chin. “I don’t believe that.”

“Well—”

“I don’t believe you’re done for life. I think you can be recharged. I think someone has to show you that she can put in as much as she takes out.”

He looked away.

“Is that how you think we were?” Her voice was soft, inquisitive. She wanted an honest answer. “Do you think I took and took from you?”

He stared out the window to the backyard and shook his head. “No, I think I took and took from you. Until you wised up and left me, like everyone knew you would.”

“Cal—”

He turned to her. “You’re back, and you’re still shining, and that’s the way it should be.”

“So why’d you come here tonight?”

He hesitated, and then gave the only answer that he could. “Because after seeing you in that restaurant, I couldn’t imagine being anywhere but here.” Her face softened, and he shook his head. “But I shouldn’t have. Selfish of me to—”

“I’m a big girl. I let you in that door. I could have said no.”

He rolled his jaw. “Yes, you could have.”

They both stared at each other, until she spoke again. “So that’s it?”

“Don’t know what else to say about it.”

She stopped talking then and looked at him with eyes a little sad, a little regretful. He wished he knew what she regretted.