Page 94 of One Wrong Step
The sun is beating down, and my shirt is sticking to my body. And now I need another shower. “I’m going to turn the truck on. To get some air.”
There’s a smirk on his face, but I turn on the truck and crank up the air conditioner. He stares at me, not saying anything. It’s unnerving.
“You should go back inside, Vivian.”
“In a minute.” He studies his Pride-themed nails. I’m not sure why since they’re perfect. “I’m busy.”
“Doing what? Checking your nails?”
He smiles. “I’m having an epiphany.”
“Is that so?” I turn to face him. He’s still looking down. The dark strands of his hair hang in his face. I want to brush them back, but if I touch him, I won’t want to stop. “Are you going to enlighten me?”
The look in his eyes is more serious than I expected. “It’s about you. Still want to hear it?”
No. Definitely not. “Sure.”
“You, Jonah Baker, are the most protective person I think I’ve ever met. You’ll go scorched-earth on anyone you think is being mistreated. And for someone you really care about? You’re a beast.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“An observation. With no judgment attached.”
I laugh. “That would be a first.”
“Rude.”
I smile, and it feels good, like this isn’t all hopeless. “Why do I think there’s more to this revelation?”
“Because you know me?” His eyes twinkle. Then his smile fades. “The thing I’ve noticed is that you fight for everyone?—”
“Not everyone.”
“Not everyone. Those who deserve it?” He looks at me to see if he’s got it right. And I nod. Close enough. “The one person you fail to defend over and over…” His eyes catch mine. “Is yourself. Why is that?”
I shrug. Not wanting to get into it. “You tell me. It’s your epiphany.”
“I think you gave me the answer. You only help those who deserve your protection. Which means…” His attention is one hundred percent on me, and now I wish it wasn’t. “You don’t think you deserve it. You don’t think you’re worthy of protection.” His voice gets softer. “Maybe even love.”
“Well, this is fun. I love being psychoanalyzed first thing in the morning.” I reach for the door, and Vivian puts his hand on my arm.
“That’s not what I’m trying to do, Jonah. Look at me.”
I meet his beautiful dark eyes. He takes my hand and threads our fingers together. “I just want to let you know that you’re wrong. Absolutely, completely wrong.”
I laugh. “Thanks?”
“You’ve told me multiple times that my dad is an asshole?—”
“He is an asshole.”
“I’m not disagreeing. But your mom—the way she treated you. Still treats you—It’s probably best if I don’t meet her face-to-face.”
I want to argue, but I can’t. “That’s fair.”
He takes my hands. “What I’m saying with way too many words is that you, Jonah, are worth fighting for. You deserve to be loved.” He squeezes my hands. “We both have parents who fucked with our heads. The things they did…said, it distorted everything. Every thought. Every relationship. I didn’t even realize I wasn’t seeing things clearly until I saw them through your eyes.” He shrugs one shoulder. “I’m grateful. And I want to be able to do that for you.”
“Viv.” I’m not sure what to do with this. Crying and begging both seem like terrible ideas. “Thank you. I mean it.”
He drops my hands. “I shouldn’t have lied to you. Even by omission. I’m sorry.”
“Come here.”
He bites his lips, and that’s when I realize it sounded like a command. I start to tell him it was a request, but he’s already in my lap. And fuck, this is so much easier on a bench seat.
I give in to this need to touch his face. I brush his bangs back and kiss him. “We’re good, Vivian. I promise. Now, go kill that interview.”
He nods, and our next kiss is more passionate. It’s only been one night since we were together, but it feels so much longer. “Go.” This time, the command is intentional. “And when you’re done, I’ll give you your reward.”
