“You have the floor.” I held up a finger. “This one time.” Then it was my turn.
His lips pressed into a disapproving line before he sighed. “You’re so frustrating, you know? It’s Logan Kade, Taylor. What are you doing with him?”
“Feeling.”
Whatever he’d been about to say died in his throat. His mouth closed, and he gave me a wondering look. “What?”
I wasn’t going to bullshit this away. He deserved the truth. “I’m feeling with him. I’m alive again. I want to do things, like go up to the top of stupid roller coasters and look out over the city. I want to do things like that with him because they make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time.”
He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t care. I kept going.
“Yes, I’m having sex with him. Yes, I’m falling for him. And yes, I know he’s going to hurt me.”
But I was too far gone to care. Logan had already given me more than he could take away. A wave of thankfulness rose in me. “I lost my mom. My high school sweetheart—the guy I thought I was going to be with for the rest of my life—abandoned me in the worst possible way. My dad’s body is here, but not him. He went away, too. Logan Kade’s been the first one who made me feel something other than sadness, emptiness, and loneliness no one should ever have to feel.”
“Taylor.” Jason reached over the table and rested his hand on mine. “I’m so sorry. You never said anything.”
“Because I couldn’t.” I squeezed his hand. “I didn’t have the strength to talk about it, much less let myself feel any of that.”
“I knew it was bad, but I didn’t know…” He fell silent. He looked down to his plate. “I’m so sorry.”
I felt the familiar feeling of tears coming and coughed. A person could only cry so many times. “What are you going to do now?” I asked instead. “After last night.”
Jason withdrew his hand and straightened in his seat. An expression flashed over his face, but it was gone instantly. I couldn’t place it, but it left an uneasy feeling. I pushed that aside and waited for his response.
His voice was low and wary. “I don’t know.”
“Jason.”
“Honestly.” He looked up at me, his eyes unusually focused and clear.
I swallowed. That uneasy feeling bounced inside of me again. It wasn’t going away.
“Thank you for letting me come here last night,” he said, his voice raw. “I know Logan would’ve pounded on me if I’d stuck around, and he still will.” A warning flared in his eyes. “If he finds me, he’ll threaten me to stay away from you.”
“But you’re not going to do that.”
He stared at me.
A nervous feeling fluttered in my stomach. “Right?”
“Look...” He cleared his throat. Leaning forward, his hands gripped his silverware—a knife in one hand and a fork in the other. He started talking, but I couldn’t look away from his hands. His voice drifted in from a distance. His knuckles turned white. They were the only thing I could focus on. My nerves crawled up my throat. They were going to choke me.
“...okay?”
I looked up to him, tearing my gaze away from his hands. “What?”
“I’m going to make this right. With Rankin. I will. I promise.”
“Okay.”
“I really will. I mean it.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “I know you will.”
“So when your boyfriend wants to know where I am, you can tell him that: I’m going to make things right, and Rankin will never know your name. I promise.” He spoke with vehemence.
“Okay.” Jason loved me; he had since seventh grade. “You didn’t put us in that situation last night. It just happened that we were there. I know that. You’d never hurt me.”
“Never!” His hands squeezed the utensils again.
“I know.” I reached forward and eased the knife and fork out of his hands. “But these guys, I’m not so sure.” I cracked a grin. “They were my mom’s. I can’t let you harm the cutlery.”
He stared at his hands, as if he hadn’t realized he had the utensils in a death grip. A second later, he laughed. It was abrupt, as if he’d surprised himself with it, too. A second laugh, this one smoother, slid out and then a third. The last one finally sounded genuine, and some of my uneasiness uncoiled.
Good. I smiled back at him. Nothing to worry about, right? I wasn’t completely