“Like what?” Despite who this man was and what he’d done to me, it broke my heart to know he’d endured such a thing and from someone he should’ve been able to trust.
He seemed to hedge, but finally his eyes flickered to mine, and I was transported back to those afternoons when we would be together on a blanket under one of those magnificent oak trees, or on that small boat, cruising up and down the river. Sometimes, we would just walk hand in hand around the high school track, and the two of us would talk.
I’d once upon a time thought he was just another dumb jock, but he was surprisingly intelligent. He was also very torn between living in his older brother’s shadow and being his own man. He loved football, and he was so athletically gifted. He’d been the perfect boyfriend, patient and understanding of my upbringing. I hadn’t wanted to have sex until I was married and since I had already stupidly planned out our entire lives in my head, I eventually chucked my morals at the door and surrendered.
He had looked at me that night a lot like he was looking at me now. When we’d been on the dance floor in each other’s arms, I had gazed into his eyes and I knew it was the night I wanted to be his in every sense of the word.
I finally pulled my gaze away, because I had been there and done that, and instead of a lousy T-shirt, I’d gotten something much worse. A broken heart.
Finally, he responded, “I’ve sensed something wasn’t right with me for years, but after our fight at CHG Seaport, I went to Seattle and was determined to find out why I am the way I am.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I know you think I’m just a manwhore. Hell, half of the country does, but there was more than any of you could see. I don’t just enjoy sex and have it as often as possible, but there is something inside of me driving me to do that. Once I connected what happened with my step aunt to the uncontrollable urges I’ve always had, it started to make sense. There is something psychologically messed up in my head. I was recently diagnosed with sex addiction, and before you ask, it is a legitimate thing.”
I was dumbfounded. Was a sex addict almost like a drug addict? If he got treatment for it, would he not want sex anymore? I had so many questions and didn’t know where to start first. “So, that’s why you’re horny all the time,” I blurted out.
He chuckled, then his face grew grim. “It was more than that. Despite what you might believe, I don’t feel like having sex all the time. This addiction, however, has teeth and claws and won’t let me go. I’m obsessed with the act of climaxing, even at times when I gain no satisfaction from it.”
“Are you serious?” I had heard of people being addicted to all kinds of things, and I supposed one could be to sex. It just sounded so convenient right now, though.
“It started before we even met. Once I hit thirteen, that was when things first happened with my step aunt. After about the second or third summer, I came back and began acting on my urges. I started having sex with all these different girls and the more I fucked, the more I needed it. I had worked my way through half the school it seemed, and then I was dared to do the impossible.”
“Me,” I stated sullenly, and those old feelings of anger and regret came rushing to the surface.
“Yes. I’m not proud of it now, but at the time, I was honestly shocked you even gave me the time of the day. I mean, you were quiet and introverted, but so beautiful. I knew of your family even before you told me about them, and it made everything seem more forbidden, which only amped up my desire to do more. When Kristopher also managed to get together with the girl he’d been dared to, I knew I had to up the ante.”
“So, you got bonus points for fucking me.” Now, it was more anger rushing through my bloodstream, racing like liquid fire in my veins. “I suppose you should thank me for being so impressionable. I—”
“It started off like that,” he spat out, then took a deep breath. “I had to work harder to get you to drop your guard, and when you did, a funny thing happened.”
“You got to deflower a virgin. How amusing.” I got up onto my feet, and looked toward the locked door. If only I had thought to bring my phone with me earlier.
Jonas rose to his feet as well. “It wasn’t what I meant. What I was about to say before you cut me off was that I ended up dropping mine, too. In fact, to this day, I have never shared with anyone else the things I’m sharing with you. Not then, and not now.”
I had tears rolling down my cheeks. That day at school had been so devastating to me and my psyche. “W-why, though?”
“Because I care about you,” he finally said, closing the distance between us.
His arms wrapped around me, but I remained stoic. I didn’t even know how to respond to that. Or maybe I did. Spinning in his arms, I reached up and slapped him. I think it stunned him more than anything, because he blinked a few times and shook his head. I actually hoped his ears and everything else was ringing.
“You don’t get to tell me that right now and expect me to—”
“I don’t expect anything,” he cut me off. The handprint on his cheek filled me with remorse. What the hell was I doing? “What the fuck was that for, though?” He evidently had the same question as me.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured and then reached up to touch his reddened cheek. “You don’t know how badly things ended for me after your little game.”
He’d never understand how it felt being ostracized from your family and labeled sick and crazy. He also never knew what it was like to keep a child secret for fear he would use her to hurt you. I was still in his arms, so I surrendered by dropping my head against his chest.
“I told you before that I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know for everything. I never meant for that video to see the light of the day. I would’ve rather lost the dare than to have hurt you. I need you to understand that, Kenzie.”
I let out a sob, and it was followed by another and then another until finally I was clutching his arms and crying against his chest. Jonas let me get it all out, and when I finally dared to look at him, he lowered his mouth to mine. The kiss was soft and so agonizingly poignant considering our current predicament. He’d come all the way to Phoenix for me, but why. Needing to know, I pulled away. “Why are you here? I mean, you couldn’t have come all this way just to tell me what you did.”
He smiled at me, and it wasn’t the arrogant kind that irked me to no end. Instead, it was the boyish sort of one he used to flash at me when we’d first started dating. “I actually came to tell you something else, too.”
Was it about the restaurant? Or something else altogether? I glanced up at him expecting an answer, and when he finally spoke, I was glad he was holding me upright.
“I came to tell you that I love you, Kenzie.”