For the next hour, Nick sat on the living room couch, taking turns staring at the unopened six-pack of slowly warming beer in front him and the hallway toward Jess' door. He had wanted to feel safe, separate himself from the way Jess scattered his senses. But now he would prefer that to feeling like this. Waiting for her to come out of her room, come to her senses, and dump him.
Finally, he heard her door open. As she walked slowly into the living room, Nick stood up, but could not manage to look at her. He heard her take a long breath and he braced himself.
"Nick," she whispered. The pain in her voice drew his gaze up to meet hers. From the smudges of mascara under her big, blue eyes, Nick could tell she had been crying. His insides clenched, knowing he'd been the cause.
"Jess, I'm so sor…"
"You're right, she said, quietly cutting him off. "You're right. I am a cheater."
Nick blinked hard. "Jess, no! You are not a cheater. I kissed you. I am cheateree, or a cheaterator. Anyway, it was me." He pulled his hand through his hair. "Look, I saw you laughing with Mr. Floppy Hair and I just got mad…."
"Nick," she repeated with quiet determination, and he stopped. He knew she had a point to make. "I am a cheater, but only because it was you," she said. He frowned, and she continued, "You just don't get that everything is different because it is you, and I mean that in a good way." He continued to stare at her, uncertainty clouding him. "If it was anyone else who had kissed me, I would have laughed, or shoved him away." She put her hand to her hips and smiled. "I woulda slapped him Mae West-style across his keester." Nick smiled despite himself.
"But it was you," she said simply.
He looked at Jess for a moment, unsure what to do. She stepped into his arms and gave him a light kiss across his lips.
"Jess, you do know that a keester is not a face, right?" he asked.
"Whatever, Nick!" Jess yelled and grabbed him by the drawstrings of his hoodie. "I would not cheat on you. You are the only one I want to kiss. The only way I would cheat on you is if your lips went fluttering off your face and I kissed the flappety lips of you!"
Nick laughed lightly. "Flappety lips?"
Jess rolled her eyes again. "Shut up and kiss me, Miller."
He complied, pulling her close. Nick let the sweet and flowery smell of her intoxicate him as he lifted her chin and covered her soft lips with his own. There was nothing like kissing Jess. She was warmth and light. His hand slid down her throat, and he eased her closer to him, deepening the kiss.
When he finally managed to pull himself away, he sighed. "I'm sorry, Jess. I don't know why I can't just let good stuff happen," he laughed without a trace of humor. "I'm a mess, I guess."
Jess smiled, the same smile that made his insides tighten, a smile just for him. "I know you, Nick Miller," she said. "I know your grumpiness, your stubbornness and your temper. You never finish anything you start, and you talk yourself out of starting things most of the time."
He shrugged, unable to argue.
She pulled him closer. "You are also a kind, caring, funny person who makes me feel more like myself than anyone I have ever known. And I love every broken piece of you."
Nick froze. The fear slammed into him full force with an iron grip that willed him to flee, or at least breakdance backward, away from Jess. He could feel himself slipping toward that imaginary chasm, and everything in him told him to step back. But Nick looked into Jess' endless, blue eyes, and this time he decided to fight back. This was Jess. She was worth fighting for.
Nick lightly traced the line of her chin with his thumbs, looked back into her eyes and whispered, "I love you, too."
He pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling the last of his carefully built inner shield shatter around him. As Nick found her lips again, he imagined himself stepping off the cliff. He was falling, faster and farther than he ever imagined possible. But holding her, he knew. Jess would be the one to catch him.