23. Jones

CHAPTER 23

Jones

A s we lay in my bed tangled up in each other's arms I can feel Mia slipping away from me. Even after an incredible day spent with her at Bikes and Beers. And even after I fucked her so hard she screamed my name like I was a famous rockstar until her voice cracked.

I'm going to lose her. Again.

It's a harsh reality that no matter how much I convinced myself the outcome would be different this time, it's not. During the months leading up to now, Mia and I have been inseparable. I changed my plans, and my routine, to make room for her. How does she not see that?

She buries her face in my neck and releases a raspy moan. The intoxicating sound reverberates through me, turning me on in an instant. There's this deep, guttural craving to hold onto her. Somehow I'm delusional enough to believe that if I do that, if I grab on tight, she won't disappear.

I knead my fingers into the soft, warm skin on her back and kiss her head. "This is nice," I whisper, not even sure she's fully awake.

"It is," she agrees, releasing a long sigh.

"I could wake up like this every day and never grow tired of it."

She stiffens in my arms. It's slight and if I wasn't already wary of her actions, I might not even notice it. But I am. And I did.

"I love you, Jones," she rasps against my neck.

I tense. "Don't do that," my words come out harsher than I planned. "Don't fucking minimize my words."

"I'm not," she answers meekly.

"That's bullshit, Mia. You know what I mean. I want to wake up like this every day, with you. And you didn't agree."

She rears back slightly but doesn't look at me. It's like she can't look at me.

And it kills me.

"What do you want from me?"

I loosen my grip on her and roll over to my back. "I want you to agree with me. I want you to tell me you want to be with me. For good. Here, with me. You can't just keep telling me you love me. I know you love me, Mia. But that's not enough. I need more."

She pushes up onto her elbow and leans her head against her hand, peering down at me. Her hair falls, cascading across her bare breasts that are now exposed. She's breathtaking. But it's a distraction I can't afford, and I have to drag my attention away and pin it to the ceiling.

"I told you when we started…this, I was leaving at the end of summer. I told you I couldn't make you any promises."

"But that was before," I bite out, my chest aching as my heart pounds harder. "I guess I'm the dumbass who thought things had changed since the beginning of summer."

She sits up and my gaze travels down the curve of her spine to her adorable ass. I'm desperate to end this conversation. Almost as much as I was to start it. I want to grab those perfect butt cheeks in my hands and bring her down on top of me. To lower her onto my already throbbing cock and fill her until she's fully satisfied. Then maybe she'd be convinced that we're meant to be together.

But then I catch sight of her shoulders shaking.

Oh shit.

"Things have changed, Jones, but you can't expect me to just change my whole life for you. I've done it before, I can't do it again."

I sit up in bed but don't touch her. I know Mia enough to know when to comfort her and when to keep my hands to myself. But it doesn't mean it's not killing me to not reach for her.

Releasing a breath, I say, "Listen, I don't want to sound like a dick here, but you didn't change your life for me. You might have done it because of me, but I didn't ask you to leave. I didn't ask to be abandoned when I needed you most. But you left. This is where you left me. So don't fucking come at me with your bullshit of having to start your life over."

"Jones," she says my name on a sob.

It forces a lump to lodge in my throat, but I push through. "I hate to point out the obvious, but I had to start my life over too."

"I know you did. I get that?—"

"Do you?" I bark.

"I do."

"Ya could've fucking fooled me." I toss off the blankets and throw my legs over the side of the bed.

We sit quietly like this for a few moments.

"You made a new life. I made a new life. Maybe we were just kidding ourselves thinking we could actually make a life together." Her voice sounds small in the quiet room.

"Well, you can't make a life with someone who has been fixing to leave again since the second she fucking got here," I snap, and push off the bed.

"That's not fair," she cries.

I stop at the foot of the bed, my brain battling with my heart and everything in between. Lowering my tone, I say, "Peaches, this is real life. It's not meant to be fair. But we pick the person we choose to survive it with. And if you're lucky, the two of you can turn survival into a good fucking time. Most days. And on the hard days, you hold each other and don't let go."

Tears stream down her cheeks and she licks her lips.

"I pick you. I've always picked you."

"Jones," my name rattles from her chest.

"I can't really spell out my intentions any more than that." I snatch a T-shirt and a pair of jeans from my drawer and lift my gaze to her. "It's your turn now, beauty. The ball is in your court." I slip out of my room, my heart in my throat, and leave her crying on my bed.

Rosie

You're an ass.

Me

Not in the mood for your shit today.

Rosie

I don't give a fuck. I told you not to hurt my girl.

Me

You need to check your receipts because it's your girl who's doing the hurting.

Rosie

Then why was she the one crying her eyeballs out at my café today instead of your pansy-ass?

Me

Because real men don't cry.

Rosie

That checks because I just saw you cry last week.

"Toss me a beer," Maverick commands after stepping into my garage.

"What the fuck? Get it yourself. I'm not a bartender in here," I bark out.

"Damn, Cammie warned me you were in a mood, but you don't have to be such a prick. Especially not to your best friend."

I glower at Maverick from where my head is shoved underneath the hood of my truck. He shuffles toward the small fridge in the corner of the garage and snatches a beer.

"What's wrong with the truck now?" Maverick asks after sucking down a drink.

"Not sure. It's making a ticking sound."

"You sure you're not just tinkering around out here so you can avoid what's going on in there?" he points toward the door with the beer can in his hand.

I shake my head and exhale a whistled breath.

He tosses me a beer. "Guess your "not-so-secret" secret is safe with me. But I should warn you, if you don't go into the bar and at least show your face, Cammie will come out here and check on you herself."

"Can't you just go back in there and tell her I'm fine."

"I could…"

I narrow my eyes at him and adjust the ballcap on my head. "Don't be an ass."

He glares back. "You don't be an ass."

"You're such a dillhole."

"Takes one to know one," he fires back.

I glare at him and his ridiculousness.

"I can do this all night."

I take a swig of my beer. "You know I can't go in there."

Maverick leans against the back counter. "Well, you can't avoid her forever."

"What day is it?"

Frowning, he replies, "Sunday."

"So not forever. Only for three more days. She leaves Wednesday." I force a faux cheesy ass grin.

Inside though, it feels like there's a hole in my stomach. Thinking about Mia leaving again makes me nauseous. I can't decide what's worse; her leaving the first time without knowing, or her leaving this time, knowing and I still can't stop her.

"You can put on a good front for everyone else, but I know you. If you let her go again, it's going to tear you apart."

"Hey," I raise my voice, and throw up my hand, pointing a finger at him. "This is on her. I told her how I feel. I can't make her stay, Maverick. So don't give me that." My eyes water without warning. "I already know it's going to destroy me."

He looks at me with pity and I can't stand it. Maverick has seen me at my worst. He's picked me up, carried me, and he's pushed me through. And we don't say it out loud, but we both know he's going to have to do it all over again.