He fiddled with the zipper on his jacket again, pulling it up and down in short, rasping increments. I resisted the urge to reach over and put my hand over his, to stop what had to be a nervous reaction.
Rasp.
Rasp.
Rasp.
And then he said, “I got scared.”
“What scared you?” I asked him softly.
“You did,” he said, and his voice sounded raw. He turned his head to look out the windshield at the brick wall in front of us. “Cash did.Idid. You can’t—you can’twantthings. If you want something, someone’ll wreck it. And I know it’s messed up to think that way, but also, it’s true. So.” He shrugged. “So that’s how it is.”
The words hung between us. I wanted to tell him that wasn’t how it was meant to be, at least not every time, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate me spouting some bullshit platitudes.
He played with his zipper again.
Rasp.
Rasp.
Rasp.
He caught me looking. “It’s Wilder’s. He loaned it to me. He’s a good guy. So is Danny. So Iknow, okay? I know there are decent people out there. I know that not everyone is just going to fuck you over. I know you’re not an asshole, but that doesn’t stopme from being scared.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line. It trembled. “I don’t know how to stop.”
This time I couldn’t keep from reaching across to him. I brushed my hand against his, and he let go of the zipper pull and gripped my hand.
“I’m sorry I broke up with you,” he said. “Or made you break up with me.”
I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry too.”
He swallowed. “I wish it had worked out different.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I mean, why can’t it?”
Chase turned his head to look at me again, his eyes wide and wet. “What?”
I squeezed his hand again. “Why can’t it?”
“You’d give me a second chance?” he asked, his voice full of doubt.
“I’d give both of us a fresh start,” I said. “If that’s what you wanted. But it’s up to you.”
Chase scrubbed the edge of his sleeve over his face and his throat bobbed. “What if we did, and I messed it up again?”
“What ifImessed it up?” I asked him. “People mess up, Chase. Everyone does. But I miss you being my boyfriend. It feels like it could be something good if we let it. If we tried, even if we’re scared.”
“You mean me, not you.” There was a hint of his usual sharpness in that. “You weren’t scared.”
“Chase, dating you was terrifying,” I said. “Ask me how many times I thought you were gonna murder me.”
That won a snort of laughter out of him. “Fuck you. I’m all talk.”
“Well, maybe I’m just easily intimidated. Or maybe I like the thrill. Dating you is like riding a roller coaster. Except there are no seat belts, and it’s also on fire.”
This time I got an actual laugh. “Asshole.”
I shrugged. “I’m still here lining up for another ride, though. If you’re willing to put up with me. So what do you say? A fresh start?”
