AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Not that I was a tactile person myself, but with my guys, I absolutely was. They filled a hole in my life I hadn’t known I had. Reflecting on it, I might have been starved for affection. I was just glad I knew only the right kind of affection would fill the void.
“Jonah?” A woman stood as we stepped inside.
He stiffened, nodded his head, but continued taking us to the counter where several to go bags were lined up.
“Jonah.” The woman closed the ten-foot gap with just a few steps and tugged on his arm. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“That’s great for you.” He sneered and gave his name to the young Asian girl working the counter. As if this kind of thing occurred all the time in their tiny storefront, she completely ignored the scene the woman was trying to start.
“I just want you to know…” She sucked in a sharp breath, her murky brown eyes roving over Jonah’s face. “Are you okay? I’m not happy with the way we left things. I—”
“Jare. There was never any other way that was going to happen. You cared more about yourself and that waste of space loser than you did me. You never wanted me in the first place and didn’t hide that fact. Which is fine. I realize a kid thrust into someone’s life isn’t ideal for anyone. But the day I found out you knew my mother had died and didn’t tell me, that was the day you ceased to exist for me.” He picked up the bag the girl had scooted across the chipped worn counter and angled us back toward the entrance.
We didn’t rush to leave the restaurant, but we didn’t dawdle either. We walked out like his aunt meant nothing to him. And when I glanced back over my shoulder, the crushed look on her face said she knew she would never have any type of relationship with him.
She might have cared about him in her own way, but the way she showed it had been toxic. Unhealthy. Who knew what her reasons were for not telling Jonah about his mom, but from the way he held his head up and pulled his shoulders back, the reason wasn’t all that important.
Sometimes, the people who loved us were the ones who hurt us the worst. That was a life lesson I’d seen in so many movies and relationships in and around the church. Hell, I’d experienced it myself.
But the more important lesson, one often hidden behind soft words about forgiveness and second chances, was that just because a person loves you and you forgive them, doesn’t mean they’re good for you or good in your life. The lesson is knowing when to cut your losses and live for yourself.
I was proud of Jonah. Because at some point over the last few months, whether it was through building his relationship with Beck or settling into our own found family, he had come to that realization on his own.
“Man! That felt good.” Jonah was all brilliant smiles as he started the car back up and started the drive to their place. “I wasn’t ever going to search her out. Not after the way everything went down. But showing her she didn’t have any control over me and walking away…something just feels right in my chest.”
“That was closure. Sometimes we don’t think we need it, and you might not have, but it doesn’t hurt to have it.” I grinned back.
* * *
We didn’t even make a dent in the food and ended up putting most of it in the fridge. Once I shut the refrigerator door, I turned around to see Jonah shifting his weight from foot to foot behind me.
“Yes?” I asked. He was being slightly weird, and something was clearly on his mind.
“I want to show you something.” Whatever it was he wanted to show me, his mannerisms said he wasn’t sure he wanted to show me.
“Color me intrigued. What is it?”
“Come with me,” he said huskily as he grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him. Inside his room, he flipped the light on and shut the door and locked it.
I raised my eyebrows and he shot me a wry grin. “In the off-chance Beck comes home, I’d rather him not walk in on this particular moment. Don’t freak out, okay?” He raised his hands, palm out before he used one to unsnap his jeans.
Shocked, I flopped down on the edge of his bed, and watched as he unzipped and started to shove the pants down his thighs. Then he stood in front of me in a pair of boxer briefs and his green polo shirt. He wasn’t hard, so this wasn’t about sex.
Unashamedly, I let my hungry gaze train down his body.
Over the last couple months, anytime we made out, he’d always stop us. I had started to get a complex, but he’d press his hardness against me to let me know just how much he wanted me.
It had soothed some of my insecurities.
“Is that—” I bent forward to touch the front of his thigh. The leg of his boxer briefs covered the top of it, so I lifted my gaze, silently asking for permission. He nodded but pulled the material up and out of the way. A beautiful, colorful tattoo covered almost the entire front thigh, starting a few inches above the knee. It was just high enough no one would be able to see it unless he stripped down to his underwear.
I traced the edges of the gold looking glass. Bright blue, pink and purple splotches inside made a vibrant fog that half covered a black camera that was a replica of the one I worked with.
“Your silence is starting to scare me,” he croaked.
Sliding off the bed, I went to my knees in front of him to better examine the piece. This was for me. There was no other explanation. “It’s beautiful, Jonah,” I whispered.
He released a breath, and touched the side of my hair, slipping his fingers through the loose strands.
