“No,” I sigh, wishing the Rebels could give me more, but they haven’t found anything yet. Jesse said it’s going to take some time. I just wish time would move quicker.
“How’s Jesse been?” she asks, knowing about the late night calls and random lunch chats with Jesse.
“Same, still messages, calls me a few times, but haven’t seen him since I called him out at the hospital,” I answer as the doorbell rings.
“What the fuck is his problem. Do you think he’s still pissed?” Pissed at what? It’s the same question I have asked myself the last two weeks. Maybe I overstepped some line, but I don’t think it’s that. I think he’s running scared. The night Holly had Xzavier, I wasn’t sure if I would hear from him, but sure enough, once ten o’clock hit, a message came through.
“Bell, can you get the door?” Ava calls out from the bathroom after it rings a second time.
“I gotta go. Someone’s at the door.” I say goodbye to Lissy, shut my journal and place it back into my bedside table. Taking the steps two at a time, I get to the door as it rings for a third time.
“I’m here. Hold on,” I complain as I pull the door open.
“Bell.”
“Jesse? What?” I nearly fall down on my ass when I see Jesse standing there. “W-what are you doing here?” I stutter, stepping out onto the porch and closing the door behind me. He doesn’t respond, just stays quiet with a blank face. Void of any emotion. I haven’t seen him in weeks, and now seeing him again, makes my heart beat out of sync. Like I told Lissy, I know it all comes back to the night I called him out after Holly had Xzavier, but I don’t want to ask. I knew the night in the elevator that I was pushing him a little, but I didn’t think he would pull back from me. Yeah, the text messages continued between us, but the closeness hasn’t been the same.
“Jesse?” I reach out for him. The touch jolts him, the connection bringing him back to himself.
“Bell,” he says, before bending and placing his lips to mine. My stance falters, stepping back as his weight pushes me against the closed door.
It all happens so fast, one minute he’s looking lost, the next his mouth is on mine. I don’t fight him, my lips following his movement as our tongues dance against each other. It’s different from the kiss we had weeks ago, the one I haven’t been able to stop thinking about, when I told him it would be a bad idea. This kiss is raw and audacious. Even if I wanted to stop, I don’t think I could. His weight pushes against me, pinning me further into the door, as his hand searches for my wrist, and brings it up over my head. Holding it suspended.
On any given day, I would be freaking out a man just showed up unannounced and accosted me against my parents’ front door, but because it’s Jesse, I’m not freaking out. For some reason, I know this is what Jesse needs, hell, maybe even what I need. The urge to touch him grows as our tongues duel in an erotic battle of submission. Pulling my free hand from behind me, I reach up to grab his neck bringing him closer to me.
“Don’t touch,” he says against my lips. His voice and the command shock me back into the moment. He doesn’t want me to touch him?
“Stop,” I say when he reaches for my hand.
“Bell, I need you,” he groans, but reality has set in and I know this isn’t right. I’m not going to give him anything if he won’t give me a piece of himself.
“Jesse, step back,” I request, but he doesn’t move. “Jesse, I really need you to move back,” I try again with more force. He lets out a shaky breath before releasing my hand and stepping back.
“Fuck,” he shouts, turning and kicking at the porch swing.
Jesus, what is happening here?
“Jesse, what’s going on?" My hands move to the tops of my arms, holding myself in anticipation of what he’s about to say.
“I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.” He looks up, and for a second, it’s as if I’m staring into the eyes of my father. Eyes that know sorrow. Whatever he’s processing is not good and the scary thing is I don’t know if I can help him.
“Do you want to talk?” I ask eventually, giving in to him and the affliction he’s fighting.
“I don’t want to talk,” he says, rubbing his face.
“Then why did you come here, Jesse? Why did you come to me?” I grow frustrated. We talk every day. We haven’t labeled anything, but what does he want from me?
“I don’t know, Bell. I don’t fucking know anything anymore.” He sits in the same swing he just kicked and I have to hold myself back from going to him. If he needs to talk, I can do that, just not here. Not when my parents could come home soon.
“Let me grab my jacket and shoes,” I say, giving him all the control again, an effect of having Jesse kiss me.
“Okay.” He stands and takes a deep breath.
“Will you wait for me?" I ask when he starts walking back to his bike.
“Yeah,” he answers without turning back.
“Because if you leave when I’m inside, I’ll be angry,” I warn, trying not to show my vulnerability.
I wait until he agrees and I turn and open the front door. I lock up behind me and go in search of my shoes and a jacket.
“Who’s that?” my sister asks when I get to my room.
“Ummm,” I panic. Shit I forgot Ava is nosey. She was probably spying on me.
“How’s Jesse been?” she asks, knowing about the late night calls and random lunch chats with Jesse.
“Same, still messages, calls me a few times, but haven’t seen him since I called him out at the hospital,” I answer as the doorbell rings.
“What the fuck is his problem. Do you think he’s still pissed?” Pissed at what? It’s the same question I have asked myself the last two weeks. Maybe I overstepped some line, but I don’t think it’s that. I think he’s running scared. The night Holly had Xzavier, I wasn’t sure if I would hear from him, but sure enough, once ten o’clock hit, a message came through.
“Bell, can you get the door?” Ava calls out from the bathroom after it rings a second time.
“I gotta go. Someone’s at the door.” I say goodbye to Lissy, shut my journal and place it back into my bedside table. Taking the steps two at a time, I get to the door as it rings for a third time.
“I’m here. Hold on,” I complain as I pull the door open.
“Bell.”
“Jesse? What?” I nearly fall down on my ass when I see Jesse standing there. “W-what are you doing here?” I stutter, stepping out onto the porch and closing the door behind me. He doesn’t respond, just stays quiet with a blank face. Void of any emotion. I haven’t seen him in weeks, and now seeing him again, makes my heart beat out of sync. Like I told Lissy, I know it all comes back to the night I called him out after Holly had Xzavier, but I don’t want to ask. I knew the night in the elevator that I was pushing him a little, but I didn’t think he would pull back from me. Yeah, the text messages continued between us, but the closeness hasn’t been the same.
“Jesse?” I reach out for him. The touch jolts him, the connection bringing him back to himself.
“Bell,” he says, before bending and placing his lips to mine. My stance falters, stepping back as his weight pushes me against the closed door.
It all happens so fast, one minute he’s looking lost, the next his mouth is on mine. I don’t fight him, my lips following his movement as our tongues dance against each other. It’s different from the kiss we had weeks ago, the one I haven’t been able to stop thinking about, when I told him it would be a bad idea. This kiss is raw and audacious. Even if I wanted to stop, I don’t think I could. His weight pushes against me, pinning me further into the door, as his hand searches for my wrist, and brings it up over my head. Holding it suspended.
On any given day, I would be freaking out a man just showed up unannounced and accosted me against my parents’ front door, but because it’s Jesse, I’m not freaking out. For some reason, I know this is what Jesse needs, hell, maybe even what I need. The urge to touch him grows as our tongues duel in an erotic battle of submission. Pulling my free hand from behind me, I reach up to grab his neck bringing him closer to me.
“Don’t touch,” he says against my lips. His voice and the command shock me back into the moment. He doesn’t want me to touch him?
“Stop,” I say when he reaches for my hand.
“Bell, I need you,” he groans, but reality has set in and I know this isn’t right. I’m not going to give him anything if he won’t give me a piece of himself.
“Jesse, step back,” I request, but he doesn’t move. “Jesse, I really need you to move back,” I try again with more force. He lets out a shaky breath before releasing my hand and stepping back.
“Fuck,” he shouts, turning and kicking at the porch swing.
Jesus, what is happening here?
“Jesse, what’s going on?" My hands move to the tops of my arms, holding myself in anticipation of what he’s about to say.
“I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.” He looks up, and for a second, it’s as if I’m staring into the eyes of my father. Eyes that know sorrow. Whatever he’s processing is not good and the scary thing is I don’t know if I can help him.
“Do you want to talk?” I ask eventually, giving in to him and the affliction he’s fighting.
“I don’t want to talk,” he says, rubbing his face.
“Then why did you come here, Jesse? Why did you come to me?” I grow frustrated. We talk every day. We haven’t labeled anything, but what does he want from me?
“I don’t know, Bell. I don’t fucking know anything anymore.” He sits in the same swing he just kicked and I have to hold myself back from going to him. If he needs to talk, I can do that, just not here. Not when my parents could come home soon.
“Let me grab my jacket and shoes,” I say, giving him all the control again, an effect of having Jesse kiss me.
“Okay.” He stands and takes a deep breath.
“Will you wait for me?" I ask when he starts walking back to his bike.
“Yeah,” he answers without turning back.
“Because if you leave when I’m inside, I’ll be angry,” I warn, trying not to show my vulnerability.
I wait until he agrees and I turn and open the front door. I lock up behind me and go in search of my shoes and a jacket.
“Who’s that?” my sister asks when I get to my room.
“Ummm,” I panic. Shit I forgot Ava is nosey. She was probably spying on me.
