Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 137176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Stop talking, JJ.
“Not just when I was a kid, either. Every time you’d come home, I was—”
Shut the fuck up, JJ.
“I was… hard,” I groaned because I had no idea what I’d been trying to say.
Cass was laughing now. A full-on, real laugh. The kind of laugh that had mesmerized me as a kid.
I gave him a hard shove. He only laughed harder. The sound made me not care what had caused it. If someone could just hand me the key that would let me unlock Cass’s laugh whenever I wanted, I’d never wish for anything else.
He finally straightened and attempted to bring his mirth under control. As much as I wanted to extend the moment, I couldn’t. I was too busy replaying his words in my head. The idea that I’d given Cass anything at such a young age was hard to believe in itself, but to have helped him change the course of his life—I couldn’t even make sense of that.
“JJ,” Cass said softly. When I looked at him, he leaned in and kissed me gently. It was short and sweet but just as soul-stealing as every other kiss we’d shared. “Thank you,” he whispered against my lips. There was no laughter in his voice, no amusement. He was thanking me for real. I didn’t know if it was because of what he’d seen in me as a kid or just being able to relive that memory and finally getting to laugh after what had probably been a really long time.
I reached up to close my fingers against the wrist of the hand he had pressed against my cheek. I managed a nod before I kissed him the same way he’d kissed me.
It wasn’t enough. No amount of kissing this man would ever be enough for me.
After that, neither of us spoke for a long time. It felt strangely comfortable, as though we’d been sitting on that log for a lifetime and neither of us were in any rush to leave it.
I was replaying our conversation in my head when something suddenly clicked in my brain. My stomach fell out as more things began to fall into place. It wasn’t a memory, though. Everything was from the present. Every word, every minuscule action. How had I missed them?
The sour taste of bile flooded my mouth.
There’s an explanation. There’s an explanation.
“JJ!” I heard Cass say sharply.
I was instantly catapulted back to the log we’d been sitting on. Cass was standing, though. He had his hand extended.
“What?” I asked stupidly.
“I asked if you wanted to keep walking or go back home?” he explained. I could already tell he was trying to get a read on me.
“Home,” I responded as lightly as I could. I might have managed to throw in a smile, but I wasn’t sure. I was too consumed with all the raw emotions that were tearing me apart inside.
I was in front of Cass as we walked along a narrow part of the trail, so I used that fact to my advantage.
“Cass.”
“Hmmm?” Cass responded. He still sounded relaxed and happy.
Content, even.
And I was about to blow it all to hell. I had no choice, though. He’d given me no choice.
“Truth,” I reminded him.
When he didn’t respond right away, I stopped and turned around. He was several feet away. If he had been content, that was gone. If he’d been happy, that was gone too. And he sure as shit wasn’t relaxed.
Cass tipped his head in a nod. He was responding to my reminder that he’d agreed to tell the truth to any question I asked.
My body was shaking violently, and I could feel the pain behind my eye building, but for once, I didn’t try to stop it. I wanted it to come. I wanted it to transport me back to five minutes earlier when it had been just me and the real Cass on that log.
The Cass I’d been in love with from the time I’d been old enough to understand what that meant.
“James Joyce,” I said.
Just like that, Cass’s entire body stiffened. Then he dropped his eyes and that was all it took.
CHAPTER 17
Cass
From the moment JJ reminded me about my promise to tell him the truth when he asked me a question, I knew that the peace I’d found on that log was gone.
JJ was gone.
My JJ.
“James Joyce,” he repeated, his voice hoarse. “How do you know about that?”
It was all I could do to raise my head and face JJ man to man. His expression and body language matched the despair in his voice.
“You told me,” I responded.
“I never told anyone about that. Not even Sully,” JJ choked out.
“Your mother wanted to name you James Joyce because he was her favorite author, so that was what your parents named you. After your mom died and you got older, you were afraid of other kids teasing you because your middle name was a girl’s. You started calling yourself JJ and told your dad and brother that you wanted a nickname like Sully had. Sully was short for Sullivan, so you wanted to be JJ. By the time you found out why you’d been given that name, people had already been calling you JJ for years. You felt like you’d betrayed your mother somehow.”