“You’re being crazy,” Jacob says.

“No. I'm being the opposite of crazy. I'm being realistic.” I notice Jacob’s standing dangerously close to my favorite books, my teaching plans, and my important documents.  

“You’re just going to run away, even though things may not turn out the way you’re afraid they would?”

“What makes you think I don’t know what’s going to happen?” I’m seriously getting annoyed here. Where does Jacob get off acting like he knows everything? What does he know about how girls like me survive anyway?

“Well, I don’t see a crystal ball anywhere,” he says.

“Ha-ha. I know what happens when people know I’m a stripper, okay? They treat me different.”

I’m glad I prepared a plan in case something like this happens. I’ve been hoarding cash and moving supplies, and now all that hard work is paying off. Moving is going to be a piece of cake.

“Were. You were a stripper. You're not one anymore.”

“You think that matters to the people I’m talking about? That shows just how much you know.” I roll my eyes. “You know that thing that happens when people learn you were in the military, and they thank you for your service and treat you extra nice? You were a Navy SEAL in the past, but people still do that, don't they?”

The lines on Jacob’s forehead deepen and his muscles become tense, but he says nothing. How dare he tell me how people are going to react when he obviously has no clue what he's talking about?

“You know I’m right. It doesn't matter if it's all in the past to you. People are still going to judge you for it.” I tear my gaze away from my books and cardboard boxes to look Jacob in the eyes.

I’m just being honest. I’m just being real. Surely, he can see that. I'm not trying to start an argument.

Jacob crouches down on the floor and starts moving my stuff out of the way.

“Hey! Don't do that!” I swat Jacob's hands away. “I know it doesn't look like it, but I have a system, okay?”

Jacob rests his elbows on his thighs and sighs.”You're being rash. You're in shock. Give it a couple of days, a couple of weeks. You’ll see.”

“You still don't get it, do you? I’ve given this a lot of thought. I started building my whole life here in Ashbourne under the assumption that I’d have to move sooner or later--probably sooner. I thought about what I’d do if something like this was to happen.”

“Really?” Jacob cocks his head and raises his eyebrow.

He levels his piercing gaze at me, making my heart jump in my chest. The corners of his lips curl up to form a cocky smirk. Jesus, I wish I could tell him to stop looking at me like that. It'll only make it hard for me to stick to my original plan and leave him behind.

“You're telling me,” Jacob says, “you're telling me that you've thought about what you’d do if your neighbor turned out to be crazy and tried to peel off your face just because you used to be a stripper? Somehow I doubt that.”

“Don't be such a smart-ass. You know what I mean. I’ve always had a plan for when people would inevitably find out about my past.” My voice is soft, but that's only because I'm trying to suppress the anger that's threatening to boil over.

“I just think you're being rash,” he says. “You weren't talking like that this morning.”

“I was also drugged out of my mind this morning.”

Again, Jacob sweeps my things away to make space for himself right in front of me.

“I said don't do that!” I shout. I can't keep my anger at a simmer anymore. Jacob's pushed me far enough.

“It doesn't matter because you're not moving,” he says calmly, his voice deep and decisive. He really thinks he can order me around about something this important. We're not in the middle of one of our bedroom games right now.

“Do you think it's about you? Is that it?” I almost can't recognize the voice that comes out of my mouth. It's shaky, high-pitched, and uncontrollably rushed.

A little voice warns me I’m about to say something I’d regret, but it's too late. I'm past the point of no return.I'm not going to mince my words. This is going to get ugly.

“It's not you, it's me. Is that what you need to hear? This is not about you. This is about me. My life, my career,” I say.

“It's not that I want to ghost you again. Oh yeah. I know how much of a big deal it still is to you that I left without saying goodbye three fucking years ago, because my mom had a terminal illness.

“Well, Jacob, I’m sorry for hurting your delicate feelings. That wasn't my intention. I had no idea it was going to cause anything like that, because what I did was totally normal for one-night stands. You're the abnormal one for getting so obsessed with it.

“Maybe that's why you're such a manly man during sex. Not because you're actually into that kind of stuff, but because you need to regain some kind of control to balance things out, to make yourself feel like the man again.”

I’m almost panting from the effort of getting all those words out. I feel sick immediately. My hands turn cold.

What have I done? Jacob has been nothing but a reliable rock to me. All he did was disagree with my decision to leave town.

Jacob stares at me like he can see right into my soul. He's frowning and gritting his teeth. He takes a deep breath, then another, keeping his gaze firmly locked on mine.

It feels almost physically painful. I continue to hold Jacob's gaze out of sheer stubbornness, but I wince for a split second and I know he sees it. The moment feels like it lasts forever, but it's probably just a few seconds in reality.

“You know, I say fucking ugly things too sometimes when I’m pissed off. And then I’m too proud to admit it once I’ve gotten all that anger out of my system,” Jacob says.

“If you think you know me—”

“Listen to me,” Jacob cuts me off, his tone telling me he means business. “I let you speak before, so now it's my turn.”

I raise my eyebrows and stare at him in open defiance. Sure, I’ll be quiet and listen, but I don't have to like it.

“We're both stressed out—you more than me, understandably. I'm going to forget you ever said any of those things. If you still feel that way tomorrow, you can tell me again what you really think about me. You’ll still be here tomorrow at least, right?”

“Yeah.”

“When are you leaving?”

“As soon as Max recovers. I'm still waiting to hear from the vet.”

“Okay, so I have at least one day and one night to make you stay. I know I can fix this. I found out about Steve and Caine all on my own, remember? I have my ways.”

“Stop trying to change—”

“That's assuming you prefer to stay here. I just think you may miss Tony and Bertha and your students if you were to leave.”

I give Jacob an annoyed look for cutting me off again, but he's right.

I’ve been struggling with the fact that I keep having to reinvent my life, building my social circle from scratch each time. It gets lonely. So lonely it makes my chest hurt sometimes.

To be honest, I was just starting to forget what that crippling loneliness feels like, now that I have a busy life here in Ashbourne. Having Jacob with me helps big time, although I don't feel like admitting that to him.

What's the point, when I'm probably never going to see him again?

“If you prefer to leave Ashbourne, then I’m coming with you,” Jacob says.

I glare at him. “What game are you playing? I thought you had some business in town.”

“Yeah, well, the business may be moving elsewhere.” Jacob smiles and gives me a meaningful look. He reaches for my fingers, pulls them close, and kisses the back of my hand. He says, “I love you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow when I’m done working on things.”

As Jacob stands up to leave, I stay still as a statue. I sit on the floor with my mouth agape, my things scattered all around me. I rack my brain for something to say, but nothing comes up.

My first thought is to tell him he doesn't have to say that just because he feels bad for me, but that feels like the wrong thing to say.

My second thought is his bare back looks damn hot. I can see the swell of his shoulder blades, the vertical line of his spine, the two little depression in his lower back. I have to stop myself from going after him and tracing the lines of his body with my fingers.

Then I remind myself of the wound on the other side of his torso. I’ve already caused Jacob enough trouble. People are always going to figure out who I really am, so trouble is always going to follow me. Jacob doesn't have to deal with that.

I’m not going to lie and say that Jacob's just wasting his feelings on me. When he said those three little words, I felt it right in my heart, a mixture of so many different emotions I couldn't even begin to sort them out.

Damn it. I’ve caught feelings, haven't I?