Jase’s mood hadn’t improved much when he arrived to music. He’d said hi to Calla, smiled at me, and then stared straight ahead, like he was engrossed in what our professor was droning on about. Which was such BS, because I didn’t think one person in the entire class had any idea what was going on.
And that smile of his—it had been so tight and never reached his steely gaze. The smile was all wrong. It was fake. It reminded me of Dr. Morgan’s smile. It reminded me of the police officers’ as they’d ushered me out of their offices.
My palms were sweaty, causing the grip on my pen to slip. I’d scribbled maybe two or three lines during the entire class. After saying good-bye to Calla, I crutched my way to where Jase had parked. He’d taken my bag as usual, putting it on the floor by my feet to make it easier for me to grab.
Not seeing a familiar pink box, I bit down on my lip as I watched him make his way around the front of the Jeep. With the gray toboggan hat pulled low, only the ends of his hair peeked out from underneath it. He hoisted himself up, closing the door behind him. The hard set of his jaw caused my stomach to flop.
My mouth was dry as he backed out and hit the main road leading to east campus. Riddled with anxiety and uncertainty, I used the entire time while he searched for a parking spot near the Byrd Center to work up the nerve to speak.
Hands clasped tightly together, I swallowed hard. “Is everything okay?”
Jase turned off the engine and pulled the keys out. Sitting back, he lifted his free hand and smoothed it over the toboggan. My muscles seized up as the seconds ticked by in tense silence.
“No,” he said finally, voice so low I thought I heard him incorrectly. “Everything is not okay.”
I opened my mouth, but anything I was about to say died on the tip of my tongue when he looked at me. Oh, this was going to be bad. Very bad. I seized up, muscles rigid.
“I don’t know how to say this.” He pressed his lips together while a burn picked up in the back of my throat. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” I croaked out. Because he couldn’t be sorry for what happened between us. Absolutely no way.
He looked away, tilting his head to the side. “This is just too much.”
I blinked slowly, feeling like I missed the beginning half of this conversation. “What is?”
“This,” he stated with force, raising his hands. “All of this is too much—you and me.”
My nails were leaving little indents in my palms from how tightly I was clenching my hands. “I . . . I don’t understand.” Those words sounded weak and pathetic to my own ears, and the blood drained from my face. “What’s going on?”
“It’s too much.” He closed his eyes, features pinched and strained. “It’s too much too soon.”
“What? Us? We’re moving too fast?” He thought so because we’d had sex? That seemed wildly out of character for someone with his reputation. I got that he wanted to do things right, and last night had been right. “We can slow down if that’s what you think we need—”
“I can’t do this,” he interrupted, opening his eyes. “It’s too serious and I thought I was ready for that, but I’m not.”
He thought he wasn’t ready? What in the hell was holding him back? I knew about Jack and how it would impact a future with—it occurred to me then as I took my next breath. This wasn’t about Jack or us. This was about Jack’s mother.
“This is about her, isn’t it? You’re—”
“I’m not talking about her,” he snapped, and something cracked in my chest, a deep fissure that spread throughout, cleaving me in two as he spoke. “I don’t want anything serious. Not with Jack being so young, and I need to focus on graduating, getting a job, and helping raise Jack.”
“And none of that includes me?”
His clouded gaze met mine for an instant. “It doesn’t. It can’t. Because I can’t go through . . .” His jaw locked down as he gave a quick jerk of his head. “I’m sorry. Please know I never meant to hurt you. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. You have to believe that.”
My chest rose sharply, and it felt like he’d reached inside me and crushed my lungs into a crumpled-up wad of paper. The burn in my chest increased, building behind my eyes. I tried to calm down, but that hurting was raw and real.
“And I know I’ve hurt you and I’m so fucking sorry for that.” He glanced at me quickly, and he tensed. The crack deepened. “I’ll still pick you up for school and get you to your classes,” he rushed on as I stared at him. “So I don’t want you to worry about that.”
I reared back, pressing against the door as what he was saying finally sunk through the shock. The seat—the floor—dropped out from underneath me. I blinked back hot, stinging tears. “Just to make sure I understand this. You don’t want to be my boyfriend, but you want to be my chauffeur?”
Jase’s brows furrowed together. “I want to be your friend, Tess. Not your chauffeur.”
Sucking in a shallow breath, I turned my attention to the front of the car. My thoughts raced as my stomach continued to do gymnastics. My skin tingled and felt tight.