“Is that a bad thing?” I ask, swinging beside her, still trying to catch my breath.
“Yeah. My parents won’t let me work.”
“How old are you again? You’re not underage or anything, right?”
Jenna giggles. “I’m twenty-one. Damn. Is it that obvious I live under my parents?”
“Well, yeah. You’re twenty-one and listen to almost everything they say. Don’t you have thoughts of your own?”
She quiets. “Unfortunately, my thoughts are usually drowned out by others.”
“Ah.” I look over at her. She’s staring straight ahead to where the slide and sandbox are. She’s doing that thing again. “You do that a lot, the thing with your cheek.”
Jenna looks at me. “Oh.” She pulls her hand away from the side of her face. “Bad habit. I, uh, chew the inside of my cheek when I’m overthinking, or nervous.”
“Are you nervous now? Do I make you nervous?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m not nervous now.”
“But I do…make you nervous?”
“A little,” she confesses. “I mean I don’t think you would harm me or anything. It’s just…I like you and that makes me nervous. That’s all.”
“You’re right, I wouldn’t harm you,” I say. “I like you too. A lot.” I smile.
“Why?”
I shrug. “I’m curious about what goes on in that beautiful mind of yours.”
Jenna rips her stare away, the corner of her lips twisting down into a frown. “Trust me, there’s nothing beautiful hidden inside my mind. Nothing worth telling and nothing worth knowing.”
“I disagree.”
She blows out a long, heavy breath, as if fighting back an urge to argue with me. “Well, let’s just agree to disagree, shall we?”
“Okay.” I don’t push her. “So how was your date?” I had to fucking ask. It’s been killing me the past hour.
She chuckles. “My lunch date with my father didn’t go as well as I’d planned.”
“With your father, eh?” I can’t lie; this news makes my ears ring with happiness. “That bad?”
“Here’s the thing: I’m close with my father. I have a bad relationship with my mother, ‘mommy issues’ you could say. What I thought was going to be a great lunch with my dad turned into a lecture about my relationship with my mother. So yeah, that bad.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Thanks.”
I wet my lips, hesitant to ask this next question, but decide to go for the plunge anyway. “That morning I found you by the street corner in your pajamas, was that about your mother too?”
“Yeah. Something like that,” she whispers.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I’d rather not. Thoughts about my mother put me in a bad place. I don’t want to go there, especially not right now.” Jenna looks over, a delicate smile etched along her beautiful, pale face. “I’m having a good time. I don’t want it to be ruined.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“Huh?”
Fuck.
Did I just say that out loud? Yeah, I did. Oh screw it; I might as well own up to it. “You’re beautiful, Jenna. I’m a man and I’m not afraid to admit when I’m lucky enough to look at someone as beautiful as you.”
She doesn’t say anything, just stares back at me, her expression unreadable. Did I cross a boundary here? Should I not have said anything?
My mouth has gone dry. Logan thinks I’m beautiful. Great. Just great. Exactly what I don’t need. He’s a great guy; I can really tell.
You know how there’s that one person who stumbles into your life and you instantly have a connection with them? Someone who’s a genuinely good person. Someone you just know you can build a great bond with, and it doesn’t have to be in a romantic way either. It can be with someone you have no attraction to whatsoever, you just instantly recognize something in them and they in you. Like in another realm, in another life, you were meant to be together in some way. Whether with a mother, daughter, sibling, best friend, or romantic partner, it’s a strong, unexplainable connection between two individuals.
That’s how I feel with Logan. But instead of being platonic, the attraction between us is undeniable, which makes it that much more difficult to ignore. The pull, the tug, the electric current charging the air between us… It’s constant. And I don’t need it. Not now, maybe not ever.
“Logan,” I start.
“Wait. Don’t say anything. I get it. I just wanted you to know you’re beautiful. I wanted you to hear it for yourself. I understand you just want to be friends. I understand this isn’t a date, and I understand you don’t care to ever go on one with me.”
“That’s not true. It’s just…” I sigh and shake my head. This is so frustrating. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Yeah. I want you to be.”
“I’m not exactly dating material.” I laugh at how ridiculous I sound. “It’s me. Seriously, it’s not you.”
“Oh no, not the good ole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ spiel. I’m kind of shocked, Jersey. Usually that talk comes after people have started dating. You just like being ahead of the game?” He chuckles.
I don’t find it funny. “It’s not a spiel—I’m serious. And it’s not just you—it’s anyone. I’m not dating material for anyone. I’m—God, this is so hard to say.”
“Then don’t say it. I get it.”
“No, you don’t.” I shake my head, fiddling with my fingers as a way to distract my thoughts. How would he look at me if I told him the truth? Could he handle it? “I have issues, Logan. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. Just plain old emotional issues.” I settle for that because he’s not ready to know about me and I’m not ready to tell him.
“I can handle issues, Jenna.”
My head twists to look up at him, and I smile softly. It’s nice for him to say that, but I know the truth. “Not my issues. Just trust me on that.”
Gripping the chains of the swing, he stomps his foot to the ground and pushes, slightly lifting his feet and leaning back to gain momentum. “You know, if this were a date, I’d feed you this long line of cliché bullshit about how everyone has issues and there’s someone out there, regardless of what you may think, who can handle anything you’re dealing with—because maybe that person needs you just as much as you need them. And then, my cliché bullshit would probably touch you somehow, make you feel some type of emotional connection with me, and possibly make you swoon, which would only allow me to go in for the kill and kiss you. But like I said, that’s if this were a date. Since it’s not, you’re not so lucky.”