I’d been worried all night about other guys putting moves on her, but I should have been worried about myself. Mr. Gibson had been right: I was a virus. I didn’t mean to spread my sickness, but I simply couldn’t help it. I’d infected my two best friends in the world that night, and before the sun had risen the next morning, I was on the phone with Jesse explaining what had happened. Of course that did nothing but further alienate me from both of them. I turned into the even-harder shell of a person I’d been until Josie had catapulted back into my life.
History was pretty much repeating itself. I’d moved in on her when she’d been with someone else, giving no thought to what was best for her—only what was best for me. Given the way she looked at me and the intention in her touch, I’d practically convinced her that I was what was best for her, too. But I wasn’t what was best for her. How could I be when the only roof I had over my head was the cab of my old truck? How could I be what was best for her when I didn’t even know what was best for myself? How could I love her the way she deserved to be loved when my parents hadn’t shown me an ounce of it?
The answer to those and the other questions streaming through my head was simple—I couldn’t. That answer made me throw off the covers, jump out of bed, and pull my duffle bag out of the closet. I had to go. It would be hard for her, but unlike me, Josie would recover. She’d dry her eyes one morning and wake up to find the sun a little brighter and her future more hopeful without me in it. She’d live the life I’d always wanted for her. It just wouldn’t be with me.
Stuffing the first thing in my bag was the hardest. Once I got past that, the rest went in quickly. I’d made up my mind. The sooner I was out of there, the easier it would be for both of us to move on. Or in my case, pretend to move on. I was sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on my boots when the doorknob twisted. I froze, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t get my heart to follow suit. I needed my heart frozen to say good-bye to Josie. I needed it frozen to make it out that front door and leave her behind. But the instant that door opened and she slipped inside, I knew my fight to freeze anything was over.
She had a playful smile on, and then she saw the full duffle on the bed and the boots in my hand. All playfulness fell from her face, along with the smile. “Where the hell are you going?”
I closed my eyes to keep from having to look into her eyes. “I don’t know. I’m just going.”
“Is this because of something my dad said to you?”
I shook my head once. “No.”
“Is this because of what happened earlier? Are you feeling guilty because I’ve got a little bruise on my face?” Josie was whispering but just barely. If the conversation got any more heated, and I knew it would, she would wake up the whole house soon.
“I’m going because I have to go.”
“No, you don’t,” she snapped.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Yes, I do. You know it, and now I finally do, too.”
“No, I damn well don’t know that, and you don’t either, Black. So do me a favor and stop playing the martyr.” Her voice wobbled over a few words, but she still sounded more pissed off than anything else.
“Joze, I’m going.” Grabbing a boot, I started sliding my foot into it before she flew across the room, grabbed it, and tossed it into the corner.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
What I wouldn’t have given to have a heart made out of ice so I wouldn’t have to feel the throbbing deep in my chest from the desperate look on her face or the tears about to release from her eyes. I wanted to be a shell of a man. I wanted to be the person I’d always let everyone assume I was. I sprung up and threw my hands behind my head to keep from pulling her close. “Fine, Joze. Fine. Give me one goddamned good reason why I shouldn’t go now. Why I shouldn’t leave now instead of later because you know I’ve got to leave someday. I can’t stay here and pretend you and me are going to live happily ever after. So tell me, how much longer do you want to live this temporary fairy tale? How much longer do you want to keep convincing yourself that you want me for the rest of your life? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t walk out that door now.”
“Because I love you.” That time, her voice didn’t waver. In fact, those might have been the strongest words I’d ever heard her say.
I collapsed on the bed, dropping my face into my hands. My whole life I’d waited to hear those words from her, and their timing couldn’t have been worse. “No, Josie, you can’t. Don’t love me. You get to choose who you love, so please”—I grabbed her hands and kept my head bowed into them—“please don’t waste it on me.”
“Don’t tell me who to love, Garth Black. And don’t you dare tell me it’s a waste to give it to you.” Josie kneeled beside me. I knew she was waiting for me to say something. Anything, probably, but other than good-bye, there was nothing else to say. “I just told you I love you.”
“No.” I shook my head, keeping it buried in my hands. “Please, Josie, just please stop.”
“I love you,” she repeated.
Those words hit me hard. Mostly because of the person saying them, but also because they were the first time I’d ever heard them. The first time those three words had been applied to me. Someone loved me. Not just anyone—Josie loved me. Fuck. What I wouldn’t have done to be the man deserving of that love. I would have given anything . . . but I had nothing to give. I couldn’t produce a diamond when I was made of shit. “You don’t love me. You can’t.”
“I can and I do.” She inhaled slowly. “Some part of me has always loved you.”
Hearing the exact things I’d wanted to hear for so long, moments before I was going to walk out that door and leave Josie behind, was becoming physically painful. “When you and Jesse were together?”
“Yes. It might not have been the kind I feel for you now, but I loved you.”
I shook my head into my hands. Yesterday, I would have killed to hear the things she was saying, but right then, those words were killing me. Because I had to leave.
“When you were mean to me when Jesse and I first got together and you said some hurtful things, I loved you then. And when you dated all of my friends, leaving a trail of broken hearts in your wake, avoiding me like I was one exception to the who-meets-Garth-Black’s-belt-notch-standard, I loved you then, too.”
All I could do was keep shaking my head. “And what about when you did become one of the girls to crawl into bed with me? What about when you woke up alone the next morning to not so much as a note or a good-bye? What about the months I said horrible things to one of the people I cared about most because I was taking out my anger on her? My anger at failing her, my anger at ruining a good relationship she had with a good man, my anger for failing at everything. What then, Joze?” I couldn’t holler the words like I needed to, and somehow, their quietness was ten times more piercing.
“I wanted to hate you after that. I tried so damn hard it hurt.” Josie paused. Maybe it was because she needed to wipe away a tear or maybe she was simply at a loss, but I couldn’t look at her to find out. One look and my resolve to leave would be gone. Josie had a way of upending my whole world in one moment. “But even then, I still loved you. I realized that if I couldn’t find some way to weed out the love I had for you after that, it wouldn’t go away. Ever.”
“No, Joze . . .”
“Garth Black, I love you.” Josie slid onto my lap and slowing pulled my hands from my face. Once she had, her eyes met mine. If I hadn’t been about to break down already, I was then. “And I know you love me too.”
“Josie—”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me right now. I know it’s hard for you . . . I know it’s hard hearing the words.” Lifting the hem of her nightgown, Josie pulled it up and over her head. She wasn’t wearing anything beneath it. “Just show me you do. Show me you love me, and we’ll work on the telling part later.”