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“Hey.” Timothy taps my shoulder and when I turn, he punches me right in the pec. Not hard, but not light either. “That’s my sister.”
I rub my chest. “—for both of us. It’s what we agreed on.”
“Yeah, well, you’re both lying to yourselves and each other.” Timothy grumbles before falling silent. It doesn’t last. “If you hurt her—” He punches me again, harder this time.
“Ow, fuckingstop. No one is getting hurt.” I turn my back on him. The distance between Jessie and me today has to prove as much. She doesn’t care about me beyond what I can do to her body. And my feelings…when have they ever mattered? I can shove it down deep. Forget her. “Jessie lives in New York, I’m going back to LA. She’ll move on, I’ll move on.”
Timothy snorts. “You’re pathetic. Just own up to your damn feelings and tell her you love her.”
I grab the tenderizer and point it at him. “I care for her, but I don’t love her. We have chemistry, but that’s it.”
Timothy keeps his big mouth shut, for once. I can feel his eyes on me as I go back to work, his gaze concerned. Seconds tick by. A minute. He’s going to open his mouth and I’m going to lose my shit and we both know it’s inevitable, even if neither of us wants to do this.
Thiswas exactly the reason I never should have touched Jessie in the first place. I don’t want to fight with Timothy.
Celia breezes into the kitchen. “Nic, honey, it’s been so lovely having you back under this roof, and I was thinking, if you and Jessie aren’t ready for you to move into her place, you’re more than welcome to stay here—” she freezes, staring at the steak in horror. “Oh, no. What happened?”
It’s fucking tartare.
“Mom,” Timothy says, a slight warning in his voice as he shakes his head and attempts to subtly draw his hand across his throat.
Celia stares at him for a moment, then turns her confused look to me.
“I’m not moving home,” I say through gritted teeth.
She frowns. “Jessie’s moving to LA?”
Of course not and I have to take a deep breath before I say something I’ll regret.
“That’s it!” Timothy startles me as he slaps the counter. “I’m going to find Liam and we’re going to build a ramp. We’ll need some rope and someone to drive my truck—think Liam can reach the pedals yet? And I need my old snowboard. I’m jumping Jessie’s tiny-ass rental car in twenty minutes.”
He runs out of the kitchen like an excited toddler on a mission while Celia and I stare after him.
“Oh, hell no,” she says, following, shouting for Mina.
The entire house erupts into absolute chaos, and if I weren’t a wreck on the inside, I’d laugh at whatever the hell makes Timothy thinkthisis the way to save me from a conversation I don’t want to have with his mom.
Instead, reality sets in. This fling has raised expectations in Timothy and Celia, probably in the whole family. It was one thing, before it happened, to say they’ll get over it when it ends. It’s another thing to patiently explain over and over again that Jessie and I don’t have a future.
To have to tell them it’s over.
At least I won’t be breaking Jessie’s heart. If I did, I’d never be able to come back—the guilt would eat me alive. The Foleys are the only family I have and losing them would leave me alone in the world.
Except I want her to be heartbroken. I want her to hate me and curse me when she sees me in the tabloids with other women. Because there will be other women, even though I’ll never marry one of them. The thought of causing her pain makes my chest hurt, but the idea of her indifference is worse. I want what we have to mean something and god this is fucked up. I should want her to be happy, to meet someone and settle down with him, and—I don’t.
Could Timothy be right?
I have feelings for her. Strong ones. When we’re together, she fills every corner of my being. Since the first time we hooked up, I’ve craved her with an unexpected, inexplicable intensity. I don’t want this to end, but I don’t see a way forward. We don’t fit into each other’s lives and trying to force it could cost me everyone important to me. It has to end, and keeping those feelings out of it is the only way to end it cleanly.
Do I love her?
Does it matter?
I’m glaring at the meat like it can give me some goddamn answers when Timothy slips back into the kitchen. “Jessie’s leaving.”
Chapter thirty
Jessie
