I want her to feel better. I want to be the one who makes her smile. Makes her happy. Makes her forget what she’s suffered through.
“You didn’t make me do anything. It was an automatic reaction. My girl is hurt, I come running. My girl needs me, I’m there. And that’s what upsets me the most,” I say, emotion welling up, threatening to consume me.
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I failed you, El. That fucking tears me up inside, you know that? I had no idea what was going on, and it kills me that I was so far away.” I touch her hair, careful not to touch her face. I don’t know how much pain she’s in, and I don’t want to make it worse. “I’m down in Los Angeles, fucking oblivious, wrapped up in my own bullshit while some asshole is attacking you…”
I get choked up, and I can’t continue. Seriously, I’m going to fucking bawl like a baby, so I close my eyes, breathing deep. Trying to calm my riotous emotions, when she’s the one who’s been through hell and back.
Yet I feel like I’ve been through it with her. Fuck.
Tentative fingers stroke the top of my hand and I turn it palm up, interlocking our fingers together. “I’ll be okay, Jackson. Really. Don’t get so upset. It was scary. I can’t lie. I panicked, and it was truly the most terrifying moment of my entire life, but honestly? He wasn’t mad at me. He was just drunk and mad at his ex. The cops came to my room earlier and explained everything before I left the hospital. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind. He’s been threatening his ex since they broke up.”
“I’m not in the right frame of mind either.” I crack open my eyes to find her watching me. “If I got the chance, I’d kill him.”
Her expression is full of doubt. “You would not.”
“I would,” I say fiercely. “Anyone who lays a hand on you, doesn’t deserve to live.”
She squeezes my hand, saying nothing. Just smiles that patient smile at me while my emotions threaten to spill out all over the place.
So I let them.
“I’m in love with you, El. Took me a while to come around and realize this, but I am. You mean more to me than anything else in this world. I don’t give a shit about school or music or football, or anyone else. None of it matters if I can’t have you by my side,” I confess, my throat raw.
Fuck, saying those words feels scary. My confession leaves me vulnerable. I feel exposed. As if I tore into my guts and completely revealed myself, just for this girl. No hiding behind my charm or whatever the fuck else I used to get by. I’m just me, standing with my heart in my hands like a goddamned John Mayer song, offering it to Ellie.
The girl who gives me life. Gives me love. Gives me everything I could ever want.
I look at her. Really look at her, and see that there are tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. Damn it, I made her cry again.
“Ellie. Baby.” Agony fills my voice. “Why the tears?”
“You’re crying too,” she says, sniffing. “Don’t get all accusatory.”
I can’t help it, I laugh. Then wipe at my eyes, feeling the tears there. “You’re right.”
“I know.” She pauses. “I’m in love with you too, Jackson. I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you, I think.”
“You giving me some Eli Bennett bullshit right now?” I ask her, making her giggle. “He says the same thing about Ava.”
“Well, I feel that way about you, so yes. I’m giving you some Eli Bennett bullshit right now,” she says as she works to sit up straighter, trying to get closer to me I suppose, but she grimaces in pain.
I move toward her instead, my face in hers, trying to ignore the horrible black and purple bruising beneath her eyes and around her nose, but it’s hard to avoid. She looks terrible.
Beautiful.
More than anything, she looks like mine.
“I don’t deserve you,” I tell her. “I want to be a better man for you, Ellie.”
“You’re already a good man,” she says, reaching up to touch my cheek. “And you’re only going to get better.”
“With you be my side,” I add, turning my face so I can drop a kiss on her palm.
“Of course,” she says firmly. “I can’t believe I’m having the most romantic moment ever and I look like this.”
“You’re beautiful.”