He swallowed, unable to say it, now. His hands curled to fists on his thighs.
“It’s not working anymore with us, is it, baby?”
“I don’t – it isn’t–” He stopped. Took another breath. Thought,no. He couldn’t keep stuttering and dodging around it. He’d come here to talk, and he couldn’t let himself shake apart like he had the last time they’d skirted around this subject. No skirting tonight, even if the guilt left him sick, even if sweat prickled his skin beneath his clothes. It was time to step up and be a man about this.
He exhaled slowly, and met her gaze head-on. She studied him with kindness, and understanding, but no sadness. She didn’t look on the verge of heartbreak.
“Jazz, I love you.”
Her brows jumped, expression blanking with shock. She hadn’t expected that.
To be honest, he hadn’t either. But it was the truth, of a sort. “You’re a good person. A kind person. And you’ve been really, really good with me, even when I don’t deserve it.”
Her head tilted, smile returning, the soft, sad one. “You deserve it.”
He shook his head, but pressed on. “We’ve been through a lot, you and me. And it’s been really fun. I mean –really fun.”
She chuckled.
“I do love you. I care about you, and I want you to be safe, and happy. To have the things you want.” He sighed. “But I’m not – shit, this sounds so fucking cliché.”
“It does, doesn’t it? I’ll say it: you’re not in love with me.”
He winced, but nodded.
“Hey, I’m not in love with you either, baby boy.” Her gaze dropped to his lap. “Parts of you, sure.”
“Jazz,” he protested, a startled laugh bubbling out of him.
She scooted closer again, and her hand shifted up to sit on his shoulder, her smile impossibly fond. “You are the cutest damn thing, and you fuck like a dream. But, honey, it’s like I said before: we both knew this wasn’t going to be a permanent arrangement. We could keep doing what we’re doing, and it would berealfun, no doubt. But you won’t be happy.”
“I want to be happy,” he said, leaning into her touch. “I can’t help thinking it’s insulting and ugly as hell to tell you I haven’t been happy.”
“Have you been unhappy because of me?”
“God, no.”
She shrugged. “I know it’s not my fault. It’s not about what you do have, but what you don’t have.”
He sighed, smiling back at her. “You’re taking this really well.”
“I’ve seen it coming for a long time, baby boy. Don’t worry about me.” She leaned in, and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial volume. “So who is she?”
“What?”
“Carter Steven Michaels” – okay, how did she know his middle name? – “you’ve been perfectly content to be not content at all, and then, bam, you wanna have the big talk.” Her grin was teasing. “So I think you met somebody.”
“Jazz,” he protested.
“Nobody? Nobody at all?” An innocent eyelash flutter. “Not even that cute little thing you went to high school with?”
A droplet of sweat trickled down his back, tickling unpleasantly. “Ava’s married. ToMercy.”
“No, not her.” She flicked his shoulder with her fingertips. “Her friend. That little tiny one. Didn’t she just come back into town? I saw her with Ava at Dartmoor one day.”
He resisted the urge to fidget, but barely. “She’s nottiny.”
“She’s so tiny, and it’s so her.” She laughed, but it wasn’t mean, nor mocking. She sounded delighted, almost, if that was possible. “She’s cute! And you two go way back. It makes sense. She’s club friendly, right?”
