Page 96 of My Favorite Hero

“I paid for this food,” he grunted.

I shook my head. Thorne was back.

“Besides, I came over to get Miller and saw some chick flick playing on the screen and all three of you asleep. Snoring,” he added.

“I don’t snore.”

He held up his phone and hit play. He had a video of me and the animals. Miller snorted, Barney made funny little snuffing sounds, and I was snoring. Not loudly, but I was making an odd noise.

“Not very gentlemanly behavior, taping a lady snoring in her own home,” I sniffed haughtily.

He finished the piece of chicken he was eating and peered into the box, taking a sandwich and biting it.

“My house.”

I started to laugh. “I see your walk put you in a good mood.”

“I’m in a fine mood.”

“I’ll second that.”

We ate in silence for a moment.

“I’m sorry if I ruined our day,” I said quietly.

“You didn’t. It was a great day.”

I peeked at him. He stared down at the table.

“I’ve never told anyone what happened. Not a soul. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. To admit I wasn’t loved.” He looked up. “But telling you wasn’t hard. Saying the words freed them from my brain. Like a relief. I felt lighter letting them out. Letting the pain out.”

“Oh.”

“So, far from ruining anything, you made it better.”

“You didn’t come over.”

“I needed a little time. In fact, I went to bed, thinking I would get a good, solid night’s sleep in. But I had to give up.”

“Why?”

“Because I couldn’t sleep. You weren’t there,” he stated honestly. “So I came to get you, but you were out. And you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

His confession rocked me. I wasn’t sure what to say, how to respond. It felt too personal—too close. So I chose humor.

“So you decided to raid my kitchen and wait?”

“I was going to give you another fifteen minutes and wake you up. If your snoring didn’t do the trick.”

“Asshole,” I muttered.

He stood, sliding the box back into the fridge. Then he held out his hand. “Come to bed, Pixie. I’m tired.”

I let him lead me where he wanted me to go.

I wanted it too.

The next morning, I peered at Jesse over the rim of my coffee cup. I was wearing his shirt again, and he was bare-chested, his skin gleaming in the morning light.