CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Elijah
I sat there waiting to wake up, knowing this had to be some crazy-ass dream or alternate universe I’d been living in the past few weeks, but also trying to pretend the sting of disappointment didn’t burn through me.
The way he pulled away made one thing clear: This stupid thing I was experiencing? These feelings? He planned to ignore them. He was going to tell me he wasn’t feelin’ this, feelin’ me. Not gonna lie, that hurt, and more than just a sting—like this ache that went deep, a constant throb.
But then this was Shaw and me, so again, I was waiting to wake up and find out this was all some twisted game, that none of it had happened.
Intertwined with those things was the truth of my feelings for Danny. Or maybe my lack of feelings? It was still hard to work through—how I could have thought I felt one way about him, and it had either changed, or I really hadn’t known my own feelings. And maybe I didn’t know them now either; not with Danny or with Shaw.
“Hey…I’ve got a funny joke,” he said, breaking through my chaotic thoughts.
“Is it the one about the guy who thought he was better than everyone else, the one who thought he had his shit together, only to realize he didn’t, that he had no fucking clue what he even felt?”
Shaw sighed. “You don’t think you’re better than everyone else. You don’t understand that you’re putting pressure on yourself—what you think you’re supposed to want or how you’re supposed to act. But that’s not what I was going to say. It’s actually the joke about the guy who gives advice on sex, dating, and love, claiming he doesn’t believe in love for himself, when really, it’s that he got his heart wrecked seven years ago and he’s been a coward ever since.”
I gasped, then turned to look at him. Shaw’s head was angled down, his eyes toward his lap as he drew circles on his jeans with the tip of his index finger. The room felt a little echoey, or maybe that was in my own ears, because I knew this moment was big. There was no going back from it. Like he did when he told me about his parents, Shaw was going to let me in, show me a part of him he shielded from the world. “What happened?”
“Shit, E.” He dropped his head back against the couch and looked at the ceiling, tension rolling off him in waves. It was so heavy, so thick, it almost strangled me, so I knew how hard it had to be on him.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want, but I’m here. You’ve helped me through a lot, so yeah, I’m here.” Then, then I moved closer to him, kept my legs tucked against my body but side by side with his, Shaw’s arm along mine. If I stretched my legs forward, they’d be touching his.
“It’s stupid. Teenager shit. I should be over it by now. Anonymous me would have a field day with real me if I messaged myself…which would be weird.” He chuckled.
“There’s no should with feelings. They just are, and we have to learn how to deal with that.”
“Wow, are you sure you shouldn’t be the one giving advice online instead of me?”
“You’re stalling.”
He nudged me with his arm. “Leave it to you to always call me out on my shit. It’s both infuriating and refreshing.”
Not gonna lie, there was a little spark of…something in my chest at Shaw calling me refreshing.
“So yeah, the shit I told you about my parents? That went on my whole life. They were never physically abusive to each other, but they were always fighting, yelling. Then they were madly in love, and then they hated each other again. It never stopped. God, it got so fucking exhausting to hear, ya know? It used to screw with my head, especially when I was younger. I thought that was what love was—either heaven or hell, an obsession.”
“Damn…I’m sorry.” I couldn’t imagine living like that. My parents were so great. Reaching over, I put my hand on his thigh in support. The muscles in Shaw’s leg tightened, but then relaxed against my palm.
“It is what it is. Anyway, there was this guy, Richie, who lived next door. We grew up playing basketball in each other’s driveways and hide-and-seek with the neighbor kids. You know how it goes. Typical suburban upbringing. Richie was my best friend. We did everything together, and when my parents would fight, I’d sneak over to his place, day or night, and I’d sleep over or spend the day there. He was the only one who knew what my parents were like.”
“Sounds like it’s a good thing you had him.”