Be with Me (Wait for You #2)(90)

“It’s too much.” He closed his eyes, features pinched and strained. “It’s too much too soon.”

“What? Us? We’re moving too fast?” He thought so because we’d had sex? That seemed wildly out of character for someone with his reputation. I got that he wanted to do things right, and last night had been right. “We can slow down if that’s what you think we need—-”

“I can’t do this,” he interrupted, opening his eyes. “It’s too serious and I thought I was ready for that, but I’m not.”

He thought he wasn’t ready? What in the hell was holding him back? I knew about Jack and how it would impact a future with—-it occurred to me then as I took my next breath. This wasn’t about Jack or us. This was about Jack’s mother.

“This is about her, isn’t it? You’re—-”

“I’m not talking about her,” he snapped, and something cracked in my chest, a deep fissure that spread throughout, cleaving me in two as he spoke. “I don’t want anything serious. Not with Jack being so young, and I need to focus on graduating, getting a job, and helping raise Jack.”

“And none of that includes me?”

His clouded gaze met mine for an instant. “It doesn’t. It can’t. Because I can’t go through . . .” His jaw locked down as he gave a quick jerk of his head. “I’m sorry. Please know I never meant to hurt you. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. You have to believe that.”

My chest rose sharply, and it felt like he’d reached inside me and crushed my lungs into a crumbled--up wad of paper. The burn in my chest increased, building behind my eyes. I tried to calm down, but that hurting was raw and real.

“And I know I’ve hurt you and I’m so f*cking sorry for that.” He glanced at me quickly, and he tensed. The crack deepened. “I’ll still pick you up for school and get you to your classes,” he rushed on as I stared at him. “So I don’t want you to worry about that.”

I reared back, pressing against the door as what he was saying finally sunk through the shock. The seat—-the floor—-dropped out from underneath me. I blinked back hot, stinging tears. “Just to make sure I understand this. You don’t want to be my boyfriend, but you want to be my chauffeur?”

Jase’s brows furrowed together. “I want to be your friend, Tess. Not your chauffeur.”

Sucking in a shallow breath, I turned my attention to the front of the car. My thoughts raced as my stomach continued to do gymnastics. My skin tingled and felt tight.

“I’m sorry—-”

“Stop saying that!” A tear rolled down my cheek, and I roughly wiped it away. “Just stop apologizing, because that makes this so much worse.”

He said nothing as he nodded his acquisition.

My hands shook as I reached for my bag. Numbly, I picked up my bag and reached for the door. He didn’t try to stop me as I slid out awkwardly, but he looked like he was about to get out to hand over the crutches.

“Don’t,” I said, voice hoarse. “I don’t want your help.”

Jase stilled in his seat, nostrils flared. “But I want to help you, Tess. I want us to—-”

“To be friends?” I choked on my laugh. “Are you serious?”

He looked completely serious.

And that made this so much more screwed up to even think about, and it summed up just how shallow the depth of his feelings was for me. “We can’t be friends. I can’t be friends with you, because I love you, and you’ve hurt me.”

He flinched, and I got no satisfaction out of it. I tugged my crutches free, the motion unsettling me and I stumbled back, dropping my book bag.

“Tess!” He opened the door. “Goddamnit, let me help you.”

Cursing under my breath and through a sheen of tears, I picked it up and slugged it over my shoulder. He was standing in front of me by then, holding my crutches.

I snatched them away from him, shaking. “I wish you had decided that this was too much for you before we told my brother we were together.” My voice gave out to a strangled sob as I backed away. “I wish you would’ve figured this out before we made love.”

Jase jerked back, his lips parted.

I turned from him and without looking back, I started away from the Jeep. Not toward the Den, because I couldn’t face Cam and Avery. Slamming the crutches into the ground, I focused on a bench near Knutti. I needed to keep it together and I needed to keep calm. Losing it in public would just add to my humiliation.

Oh God, Cam was going to flip out. He was going to—-the rubber end of the left crutch snapped off, nearly sending me to the sidewalk.

Frustrated and feeling a thousand other emotions, I evened out my weight on my legs and took the crutches, shoving them into a nearby trash bin. They stuck out like legs, and a -couple of -people walking by passed me weird looks as I limped across the street, toward an empty bench.

My knee was already throbbing as I sat down, but I didn’t care, because it was nothing compared to the feeling inside me. I dug my elbows into my thighs, resting my head against my palms, and squeezed my eyes shut against the rush of blinding tears.

What happened?

Jase had been so perfect this weekend and last night . . . last night had been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. We hadn’t screwed. We hadn’t f*cked. We’d made love. It had been the perfect, the right moment, but . . .