Page 92 of Already Callin’ You Mine

“I’m not Cody.”

“I know—” I start, but Jace cuts me off, his voice tense.

“I’m not saying that I know what the future holds. But I am not him. I am not going to purposefully walk away from you, or Otis, with the intent of hurting you. I’m not going to do any of that shit he did. I am not that kind of guy.”

No…you aren’t. You are so much better. Too damn good for me…

My resolve starts to slip, letting me know I need to end this. I need to put the final nail in the coffin so I can start to move on.

“No, you’re not. And I don’t think you’d do it on purpose. But I’ve also seen a different side of you, Jace Hayes. I know what you’re capable of. I remember high school.”

It’s a low blow. We both know it. But it does what I need it to—it renders him speechless.

Walking over to the front door, I quietly open it, leaning against it as I hold it. The silence grows thick between us, the tension building like fresh dough left to rise. My breathing is slow and stuttered, my racing pulse not helping anything.

Slowly, deliberately, Jace makes his way toward the door, stopping directly in front of me. Holding my gaze, he lets out a long breath through his nostrils, letting his hurt show. All of it, fully on display. I want to kiss it away. Tell him I don’t really mean it.

Instead, I remain silent.

“We’re not done with this conversation.”

“Yes, we are.” I blink, still trying to maintain eye contact.

“No. We’re not. I mean it when I said I got you.” Leaning in, he softly presses his lips to my forehead. “I got you, Pres. Otis too. And I’m gonna show you.”

My breath hitches, and I don’t know if I want to hug him or hit him. Because only Jace Hayes can react to being dumped and kicked out of a house with a sweet, borderline romantic, refusal.

I actually think I might hate him for it.

Sidling out of the way, I slip behind him and gently push him outside. He goes, semi willingly, but mostly because I pushed, and then turns to face me. I don’t wait, swinging the door shut, letting the sound echo through my house.

Gasping, I sob, all those fissures finally working their way into one another, crumbling as I fall apart. This hurts. Way more than I thought. Significantly more than Cody.

Because Jace isn’t Cody.

“Mama, story?” Otis calls.

Right, real life.

Straightening up, I suck in a breath. Swiping at my eyes, I do everything I can not to give away the fact that I was crying. It’s story time, and story time doesn’t involve tears.

“On my way, baby.”