Find Me (The Found Duet #2)(76)
Author: Laurelin Paige

He softened, coming toward me, his hands outstretched. “A baby isn’t going to ruin our lives.”

I brushed him away. I didn’t want compassion. I kept on, trying to get what I did want from him. “We’ll be tied to him. Forever. He’ll want visitation rights and to have a say in where we put the kid in school. He might even want to be in the delivery room.”

“Then we’ll deal with that.”

I stepped forward, ready to go to the worst place in order to provoke him. “He was inside me, JC.” I didn’t even flinch as I said it. “I let him put his cock inside me—inside the body that you say you own. Let him kiss my mouth and touch my breasts and stroke my pussy. And that doesn’t bother you?”

“Yes!” He exploded. At last. “It bothers me! Is that what you want?” He didn’t wait for me to respond, knowing that it was exactly what I wanted. “It makes me crazy with jealousy. He touched you in places that I thought no other man would be after me. And, yes,” his tone grew gruff, textured with contempt. “I hate him. I loathe him. I’d kill him if I could. Rip his balls out with my teeth and cut off his dick and then I’d fucking kill him.”

I winced ever so slightly, only because I’d never seen JC so passionate, not because I was actually scared that he’d hurt anyone.

“But if I did anything to him,” he continued, his volume lower but with just as much force, “I’d lose you. I’d be thrown in jail and where would that put me? Huh? Instead, I do the only thing I can—I love you. All of you. Every damn square inch. Every part of you he ever had, because I know, that whatever he thinks he feels for you, I love you better.” He jabbed a single finger into his chest for emphasis as he said the last part.

“So you want me to hate you?” His expression seemed baffled. “I can’t do that, Gwen. Because then he wins. And I won’t lose you again.”

I was speechless. And blown away.

Weakly, I sank down on the bench next to the window. JC slumped onto the bed across from me, apparently equally drained. His words had cut through me, slicing away preconceived notions and replacing them with understanding. He was upset about my time with Chandler—how could he not be? He was just handling it in his own way, in a productive way, turning his hatred into love. I should have known. I’d often sensed his resentment during sex when he got possessive and dominating. I’d also always been able to feel his love. They just weren’t separate as I’d always assumed—they were tied together, one dependent on the other.

And now I felt shitty for pushing him.

But I also was glad to know.

We sat quietly for several minutes, neither of us looking at each other, both of us processing the situation in its raw form. It felt like we were carrying an egg, each of us handling it with fragility, afraid that we would break it. Then finding out it had been hard-boiled the whole time.

This wasn’t going to break us. If we turned the pain into loving each other, we would only get stronger. It was a good lesson to learn.

“I was lucky to get you back,” JC said finally, softly. “I lost you to him for a moment. It could have been forever.”

My head shot up to look at him. He was completely genuine, and I understood something else now too. That every day while I wrestled with my doubts and concerns, JC did as well. His were much heavier to carry than mine, I realized. I was only afraid he would be happier with a ghost. He was afraid that I would be happier with a man who was still in my life.

Now possibly more than ever.

We still had so much to learn about each other. At least we already had love on our side. Or we did if I didn’t keep pushing it away.

“He didn’t ever have all of me,” I said as quietly and sincerely as he had. “He never had my heart.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know.”

Even if JC didn’t hold a grudge, I would always regret that I’d ever been with someone else when I’d still been in love with him. I’d never thought there could be lasting repercussions from it. Never stopped to consider, what if…

I raked my teeth along my lower lip. “If you can’t, do you mind if I hate myself?”

“Yes,” he said sternly. “I mind that a lot.”

I leaned back against the window and cast my eyes to the ceiling. Then I said the words that were the real heart of my pain, the source of my attack in the first place. “I can’t do this if it’s not yours, JC.” My voice cracked, and immediately he was kneeling in front of me.

He put both of his hands on top of mine. “You can. We can. Together we can do anything, and trust me, this is not the worst thing that could happen to us.”