her down,” I whisper.
Jaxi leans forward and kisses Rosie’s cheek. “Good night, sweetheart.”
Rosie doesn’t flinch.
I toss Jaxi a wink and head down the hall and into Rosie’s room. I flip on the night-light on the dresser. It casts a muted glow over all of the mermaid decorations that Mom bought for her. It’s perfect.
I pause and take in the sight and realize how amazing my mother really is. She raised five boys, yet she knew exactly what this little girl needed. She didn’t miss a single thing. It was as if Rosie was hers, and she went above and beyond to make her comfortable.
There’s a message in that, I’m sure. It’s Mom’s style. I’m just not quite sure what it is yet.
Mom is getting an extra hug the next time I see her.
Gently, I place Rosie in her bed and cover her up. I find her Glo Worm buried under a stack of books and tuck it in next to her.
“Night,” I whisper as I back out of the room. I close the door softly.
My body is on alert as if there’s more to do. I just don’t know what it is.
I turn around, and my gaze is snatched up by Jaxi. She’s standing in the middle of my bedroom with an unreadable look on her pretty face.
“Hey,” I say, walking across the hall and into my room too. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
There’s a hesitation in her eyes that sits just behind a partially constructed wall that I’m sure was built to keep me out.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I just …” She presses her thumb into her elbow. “We are a lot to deal with, aren’t we?”
“That’s subjective.”
She sighs. “Boone, I’m going to be honest with you.”
“I hope you would.”
She forces a swallow. “I want you to know that it takes everything inside me to have the guts to do this.”
A bolt of uncertainty crashes through me. I have no idea where this is going.
I take her hand and lead her to the bed. We sit next to each other on the mattress.
My heart races as I watch her war over what to say.
She lifts her chin and looks me in the eye. The confidence that I was first so attracted to settles on her face. It’s a façade, though, because I know her enough now to see the fear that is bleeding just behind it.
“I like you,” she says.
“I think it’s obvious that I like you too.”
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’m trying to balance all of this in a way that is healthy for everyone involved. I respect you and appreciate you so much. But I also …” She looks down, as her cheeks pink. “I also fight my attraction to you every day. And when you touch me and let me cry against you, I feel … I feel something between us that scares the crap out of me.”
I lift her chin with the tip of my finger. “Why do you fight it?”
“Because all of this is a … it’s a lot. And you didn’t ask for any of it.”
“And you did?”
“No. But it’s my responsibility. I agreed to take it on.”
I furrow my brow. “I did too, Jaxi. I signed up too. No one put a gun to my head. And, quite frankly, I think I’m doing a damn good job. If I do say so myself.”
She laughs softly and shifts her weight on the bed.
“I have this way of failing people, Boone. I don’t do it intentionally. And I don’t even know if it’s failing people or if it’s just that there’s something about me that makes things fall apart.”
“I have a hard time believing that.”
She shrugs. “Then don’t believe it, but it’s true.”
I move on the bed, turning so that I can see her straight on. She’s watching me with a wariness—a wariness about my reaction to the fact she thinks she’s tainted or some shit—that hurts my heart.
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“I know my stepfather’s alcoholism was not my fault. I know that. But along with the scars that were inflicted on my body—the one on the top of my head or this one,” she says, touching a faint line on her thigh, “there are other bruises that you can’t see with your naked eye.”
The feistiness that I usually see in her hazel eyes is gone, and I hate what’s taken up shop in its place. It’s a nasty uncertainty that I want to obliterate along with whomever hurt her like