Page 114 of A Little Jaded
“How do you know about it?”
He doesn’t sound mad but wary? Yeah. I’d say it’s fitting. To be fair, I don’t blame him. The way I just…threw out a huge event in his life, which likely altered his own brain chemistry the same way it did Dylan’s.
“Finley told me a little while ago,” I explain. “Not in a gossipy way or anything. It kind of just…came up. And then, your mom mentioned how you’re always looking out for her, too, and…I don’t know. I guess everything clicked into place.”
“Hmm.” He gives me the side-eye as the trees whir past us. “Seems you were pretty chatty during the game.”
“Guess you could say so.”
“Anything you want to talk about with me?” he prods.
I bite the inside of my cheek, considering his question. The opening he’s gifted me. I could drop it. I could sweep it under the rug and pretend like everything’s fine—and it is—or I could open the wound. I could tell him what’s bothering me, hoping and praying it doesn’t blow up in my face.
The old me would’ve bottled it up. Would’ve shoved it aside. Part of me still wants to. The other part? It’s screaming at me to let him in. To be open and vulnerable even when it’s scary. Even when it feels irrational. Not the being vulnerable part, but the voicing my concerns out loud part. If you can even call my reservations a concern.
“Talk to me, Stormie,” he prods.
I force out, “Are you only interested in me because you want to save me?”
His eyes bulge like I’ve told him the earth is flat. “What?”
“Let me rephrase.” I lick my lips. “Have you always felt the need to be everyone’s hero?”
Flicking his blinker on, he merges onto the freeway, but I can tell he’s considering my question by the tiny flex of his jaw and the way his knuckles squeeze against the steering wheel. They're bruised and red and raw, thanks to his fight with Drake. I still can’t believe he was thrown out of the game because of it.
“Where is this coming from?” Ev finally asks.
I tear my attention from his battered hand and peer up at him again. “Your mom mentioned how well you take care of her and Finley and Dylan and…everyone else in your life,” I offer weakly.
“Is there a problem with wanting to protect the people I care about?”
“No, it’s just…it has to be exhausting, doesn’t it?” I whisper.
He pulls off at the next exit, and I swear my stomach flips inside out as he moves onto the side of the road and faces me fully.
“What are you getting at, Raine?”
Raine. Not Storm or Stormie.
Hello again, walls.
“I…I want you to know I don’t need your protection. I mean, I do,” I rush out, “ but…I don’t know. I guess, what I’m saying is…” I look down at my hands and fidget with my nails, picking at the cuticles. Clicking my thumbs over each other. It feels strange. Bringing this up. Giving him an out, almost. I’d never want him to take it, but the idea of him feeling backed into a corner or something only to wind up dating me because he doesn’t know how tonotbe backed into a corner feels…wrong.
“Tell me,” he pushes.
Staring at my hands, I whisper, “I don’t want you to be with me because you feel obligated to be. I don’t want you to think I’m…like I’m some scared little girl who has a boogeyman chasing after her, and the only way to keep him away is if we’re together or something. And I know it’s stupid. I know I literally hired you to keep the boogeyman away, but…I don’t know, ever since we slept together…” I blink the burn behind my eyes away and look up at him. “I need to make it clear that I don’t want to be an obligation.” My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I search for the right words, knowing I’ll never find them. “This is your official notice that you’re…relieved from duty, or…whatever.”
“Raine—”
“I’m serious,” I push. “If this is as real for you as it is for me, then I need to know you see me as more than a victim.”
“Raine.”
“Ev—”
“Raine,” he snaps. It’s sharper this time, and my mouth snaps shut when he grabs my chin and forces me to hold his gaze. “You’re not a victim. You were never a victim.”
“You said I was a victim,” I remind him. “When we first met.”