Jason (Blue Halo Book 2)

Courtney only made it to the reception area before a hand was on her arm, tugging her to a stop.

“Courtney—”

“Don’t!” She spun around, shoving at his chest. He didn’t move. Not an inch. “Don’t touch me. Don’t come near me.” She tugged her arm again. He retained his hold on it.

She tugged harder. Every second she remained where she was, the crack in her chest widened. The familiar pain and hurt and betrayal of those before him swelled, flooding her system and stealing her breath.

Tears tried to dampen her eyes but she blinked rapidly, forcing them back. She would not let the tears escape in front of him. She would not let him see her drown.

“Please…” His voice was quiet, pleading, but she refused to listen.

Gritting her teeth, she forced deep breaths in and out at even intervals. “Let me go, Jason.” She was proud of herself that each word was as steely as the last. No tears. No trembling.

Aidan came up behind him, a hand going to Jason’s shoulder. “Let her go, man.”

Slowly, his fingers released her.

She took off again, moving out of the reception area and down the stairs. Her stomach twisted and turned the entire way down, the steps in front of her blurring.

She’d barely reached the street when those same familiar fingers wrapped around her arm again.

She spun around, this time putting more force into her shove against his chest. Yet again, he didn’t move. She was powerless.

Powerless to push him away. Powerless to keep him. And completely defenseless.

“Don’t. Touch me.” She swallowed a sob, her chest burning. Clinging to the anger and using it like a shield to hold back the sadness. The devastation. “How could you?”

“Courtney, just let me—”

“No! You don’t get to hold another woman, look at her like you’re about to kiss her, and then ask me to listen while you explain. I’ve done that before. I’ve been there more than once. It never ends well for me. So just… stop. Let me go.”

She blinked furiously.

Do not cry, Courtney. Do not break. She needed to remain whole at least for the moment.

When he continued to hold her, his fingers like a manacle around her wrist, she looked up at his face—and saw all of it. Hurt. Torment. Indecision on what to do next.

But she also saw other things. She saw the moments that were good. Visions of his lips pressed against hers. His arm wrapped around her waist, holding her.

The pain in her chest rippled, expanding.

Aidan pushed outside just as Jason’s hand dropped away. An odd combination of loss and victory crawled through her, touching her soul.

She took off again. Moving her feet as fast as they’d take her without actually running. Footsteps sounded behind her. Faint, but there.

She blinked repeatedly, trying to rid her head of that image. The one of Jason holding Amy. Of his lips mere inches from hers.

Her heart wanted to wipe it from her memory… her mind wouldn’t let her.

How could this have happened? Again? She’d lived this nightmare before, only this time it felt worse. Jason meant more than all the others combined. He was more.

Another pang to the chest.

How was it possible that she’d woken up feeling like the most adored and secure person in the world, cocooned in the arms of the man she loved, only to end the day feeling like her insides had been pulled from her chest and stomped on?

And yes, she loved him. She’d loved him for a while, but the words had never made it out… and now they never would.

She turned a corner, finally giving in and glancing back. But it wasn’t Jason she saw. It was Aidan. And even though she’d just told Jason to stop, demanded the man let her go, not seeing him follow made it all worse. Made the weight on her heart ten times heavier.

She moved her feet faster, grabbing on to the anger with both hands, keeping it front and center.

She was smart and kind and hardworking. She was damn deserving of love. She should be enough. And if a man couldn’t see that, it wasn’t on her, it was on him.

When she reached her apartment building, she was almost proud of herself for not letting a single tear slip down her cheek. It was only when she made it to the fourth floor and saw Jason standing at her door that the anger wavered. The cloud of hurt and sadness tried to thread its way to the forefront.

Her eyes flickered to the stairs. She could walk away. Maybe go back to The Grind? Or to Grace’s?

She gave herself a mental shake. No. This was her home. And she would not be run off. If he wanted to talk, then he could talk. But that did not mean he would be granted forgiveness.

A muscle ticked in Jason’s jaw. His hands were clenched so tightly his short nails bit into his palms.

He’d wanted to tell her right there in the office that it hadn’t been what it looked like. That he hadn’t put his arm around Amy in some attempt to hold the woman or draw her in for a kiss.

But he’d seen how close Courtney had been to losing it. The anger was a mask. A thin shield to protect her from the pain. The pain that was rooted so deeply thanks to men before him.

He’d also seen something else. Something he couldn’t quite identify but had made his chest ache. Like she’d expected this to happen again.

Expected him to hurt her.

He’d decided right there and then that this was a private conversation. One between him and her. And he would not leave until she heard him. Believed what he said.

At the sight of her stepping into the hall, he pushed off the wall, straightening. His entire body sung with awareness, his eyes not lowering from hers. He saw the anger. The uncertainty. The heartache that flashed for only a second before it was hidden.

For a moment, she stopped, her gaze flicking to the stairs then back at him.

Don’t do it, honey. Hear me out.

Her chest rose and fell with one deep breath, then she moved forward. Even though her expression was steely, he didn’t miss the tremble in her fingers as they worked the key into the door. She left it open.

Good. At least she hadn’t tried slamming it in his face. That’s what he’d been expecting. Closing the door behind him, he flicked the lock.

Courtney disappeared into her bedroom while Jason went to the living room and waited. A few minutes later, she stepped out in leggings and a baggy shirt.

His gaze followed every step she took. Her silence was loud as she went straight to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it at the tap. She took a sip before placing the almost full glass into the sink.

Jason took slow steps toward her. He’d only made it to the island before Courtney spun around, holding up a hand. “Don’t.”

His feet halted, his muscles tensing. “Don’t what, sweetheart?”

She moved to the opposite end of the island. It sat between them like a boulder. That was her intention, though, wasn’t it?

“You know what,” she said. “Don’t come closer.”

He tilted his head. “Why?”

She swallowed, her heartbeat thrumming through the quiet, loud and clear. “Because if you touch me, I’ll forget. And I can’t do that.”

Forgetting didn’t sound so bad to Jason. Hell, all he wanted to do was wish the entire afternoon away, both in memory and reality.

He took a small step forward. “Courtney—”

“Don’t, Jason.” She swallowed hard, stepping in the opposite direction, keeping the island firmly between them. “I mean it.”

“I wasn’t going to kiss her. And if she had tried, I wouldn’t have allowed it,” he said quietly.

Her mouth opened, then quickly shut, jaw locking. He tracked her every move, including the way her trembling fingers latched onto the island, like she was relying on it to keep her upright.

“You were holding her. Her eyes were on your mouth. If I’d been a second later—”

“You would have seen me stepping back.” He inched closer. She didn’t move this time. Whether it was because she was distracted or she believed him, he wasn’t sure.

There was something new in her eyes now. Yearning.

To believe him?

A few seconds ticked by, then she gave a small shake of her head. “Why was your arm around her waist?”

“A drink tipped onto the carpet, and we were cleaning it up.” An accident that he was starting to believe was very intentional. Another inch closer. “When she went to stand, she stumbled. I grabbed her to stop her from hitting the floor.”

When her silence stretched, he continued to move forward. Small steps that closed the gap between them. Soon, she stood less than a foot away. So close that if he reached out, he’d be touching her.

His hand itched to reach out.

Silence followed. He could just about hear her mind ticking, turning his words over and deciding whether to take them as truths.

Do it, honey. Believe me. Trust me.

Her knuckles whitened further, her hands now clenching the island so hard it was like she was trying to crush the thing.

He took another chance. Stepped behind her. He touched her hips lightly, holding her, cherishing. Then he lowered his head, his voice softening. “I would never cheat on you, Courtney. That would be like intentionally breaking the most precious thing in my life. Us.”

He heard the slight shift in her breathing. The stutter of her heart.

“I need you to believe me, Courtney. I need you.” He nuzzled her hair, feeling the soft shudder up her spine. “I will protect what we have with my life.”

Some of the white on her knuckles lessened. Slowly, she turned, looking up into his eyes. Searching. “Really?”

The second her gaze met his, some of the air that had been stuck in his chest released. He lowered his head, touching his forehead to hers. “Really, sweetheart. I would never, ever intentionally hurt you.”

His quiet statement had her eyes closing. Slowly, she reached up, cupping his cheeks, holding him. The tension that had been eating away at his gut since she’d stepped into his office finally eased.

“I thought you were going to kiss her. I’ve seen it before,” she said softly. “I think part of me was even waiting for something like this to happen. For the world to tell me that I wasn’t enough. Again.”

He lifted her, depositing her onto the island before holding her close. “You are so much more than enough. You are so much more than any man could even begin to deserve. Especially me.”

The pain, the stress, the uncertainty. It all eased from her face. Like she’d been needing someone to speak those words to her for a long time.