Selfish Love

A beat passed, just a heartbeat, but a beat nonetheless. There was an inevitability to the way his hand relaxed, to the loosening of his fingers and the twisting of his wrist so he could clasp my hand.

"I dunno why she didn't want me." There was no question who "she" was. His voice was gravelly, covering a brokenness that I knew he'd live with forever. "Wasn't worth it, I guess."

I squeezed his hand. "You were. You are. I don't know why or even how anyone could not want you around, Jimbo. I mean, sure, you've completely ruined my life, but at least my daughter will be a damn good drummer."

It made him laugh, which was the intention. And it made him look up, which wasn't necessarily intended, but wasn't unintended either.

But it also made his eyes meet mine, and that made him pause. Another heartbeat passed, and then another, and then he kissed me.

And that was not intended. Not at all.

And the fact that it wasn't unwelcome, well... that was a problem.

For that first heartbeat, I didn't react. I froze in my uncertainty, my mind swirling blank. His breath was warm and his lips were soft, enticingly sweet in a way that sent a rush of electricity through me, and I closed my eyes.

On the second heartbeat, I kissed him back and he took it as a sign. His other hand left his lap and found the side of my face, calloused fingertips touching my skin and grounding me, confirming that it was happening, that it was all too real. I let the feel of him wash over me, that moment of yes, that sensation of something that felt so right, so real, so needed.

And so wrong.

Oh God, was it so, so wrong.

That didn't stop me from selfishly indulging in him for one more heartbeat. It didn't stop me from parting my lips for him or letting my tongue touch his. He deepened the kiss and I let him, I encouraged him, I almost lost myself completely and threw myself at him.

Almost.

"No," I breathed.

"Hmm?" he asked.

I grimaced, my eyes still closed. "Jimmy, no. Stop."

His hand fell away from my face and the spot where his lips had been was suddenly cold and empty. He was still close; too close, closer than he should have been and farther than I truly wanted him, but he stopped. I opened my eyes to see dark ones looking back at me, hungry but hesitant, almost innocent in their confusion.

"Kels?" he asked.

The innocent confusion was what made the guilt truly surge. I remembered wearing an expression like that, once upon a time. I remembered that feeling far, far too well.

What the fuck was I thinking?

"I can't do this to you," I whispered.

Confusion turned to a haughty sort of indignation. "You're not doing anything to me. I'm the one who kissed you."

I shook my head. "I shouldn't have let you."

"Why?" he demanded.

"You're not thinking clearly. It was a heated conversation and--"

"And I've been thinking about this for months. Years, actually, but I've wanted to do something about it for months." He sat back, his face earnest and stubborn. "You think I haven't thought this through? Give me a reason we shouldn't be together. Any reason."

I gaped at him, then laughed dryly. "Fine. I'm too old for you."

He'd obviously played this conversation over in his head because he answered before I even finished speaking. "You're not that much older than me."

"If you honestly think that, you're too young for me."

He shook his head. "It's an excuse and you know it. The age gap between Alex and Em is longer than I've been alive. This is nothing compared to that."

"You're not Em," I said. "And I'm not Alex. Not to mention Em's my best friend. She'd lose it."

"She'd understand. I mean, she slept with my boss and kept doing it after she found out he ruined my career."

"It's a bit different when you're my best friend's brother!"

He shook his head. "She wants what's best for us. She wants us both to be happy. We could be happy together.

"It's different. Friends don't do that to each other. And you need a girl your own age."

"You don't know what I need. Or what I want."

"You've spent all night telling me what you want." My voice caught painfully. "I'm a single mom with an eight-year-old. You want to be on the road, playing music, writing songs, travelling the world. Those lifestyles do not mesh."

That seemed to catch him off guard. "I'd make it work."

"You shouldn't have to. You shouldn'twant to. I'm past that point in my life. You deserve someone who can have those experiences with you."

"And what if I'd rather be here? With you. And Baylee. And--"

"You're twenty-one. You say that now, but--"

"Don't talk down to me like I'm a child. You're not that much older than me."

"I'm old enough to recognize that you're acting like a child," I said before I could stop myself.

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. I had won, it seemed, even though it didn't feel like much of a victory. A lump settled in the base of my throat.

"You... you should probably go."

I watched his throat flex as he swallowed back his anger. Quietly, he stood and started towards the door. I hesitated, then for some God-forsaken reason, I followed him.

"I know where the door is," he said coldly. "I don't need an escort."

The sass of this boy. I wanted to snap at him, but the retort faded as he turned and I caught sight of his face. He was scowling, sort of, but it wasn't his trademark scowl. The moodiness was there, but it was trying to hide the genuine pain in his eyes.

Pain I'd put there.

And that fucking killed me.

"I'm sorry," I said.

He chuckled, though he clearly didn't find it funny. "For what? You don't want me. I get it."

I bristled at that. "That's not--"

"Just say it," he said, his voice harsh. "That's what it's all about, okay? We can talk around it, you can give me every reason under the sun why it was a mistake and all that shit, but I know, okay? Just say you don't want me."

I tried to. The problem was, I couldn't lie to him.

"I can't," I said.

Annoyance flashed in his eyes. "For fucks' sake, Kels--"

But he didn't get a chance to finish. I took a step forward, grabbing the front of his shirt. His expression changed, his mouth still half-open with frustrated words still poised to fall from it.

And I kissed him.

Before a heartbeat could even pass, I was pressed against him. His shock melted, dissolving away like strands of spun sugar in the rain. A low noise rumbled in his throat as he kissed me back, something heady and deep that I felt surge through me.

I wanted that kiss to last. I wanted to be selfish more than any other time in my life.

But I couldn't.

"I can't want you," I said against his lips. "It has nothing to do with 'don't'."

My eyes were closed, so I couldn't see his face, but I felt the shift between us. He finally understood, I think, or at the very least, he resigned himself to understanding. Instead of pulling away from him like I should have, I let him wrap his arms around me and steal one more kiss, a lingering, yearning kiss that wanted to be so much more.

Then he did what I couldn't: he let go and stepped away, eyes meeting mine as we both processed the moment.

"Are things gonna be weird between us now?" he asked.

I smiled, then nudged his arm playfully. "Things have always been weird between us. We're a couple of weirdos. That's our thing."

It made him smile, which was the intention, but there was still worry behind it.

"Yeah, but is it going to make things awkward?"

I smiled back as reassuringly as I could.

"Only if we let it, Jimbo."

Nine

We let it make things awkward.

I mean, of course we did.

Maybe if I hadn't been stupid enough to kiss him again, we could have salvaged something. If I'd let him walk away thinking I didn't want him, it would have broken his heart, but with time maybe it would have been okay.

But I made my choice. To paraphrase one Ms. Taylor Swift, I played a stupid game, and I won a stupid prize.

Still, I did the best I could to make it look like things weren't weird between me and Jimmy, which apparently wasn't very good at all.

"Are things weird between you and Jimmy?" Em asked me outright.

We were sitting on the floor of her kitchen, surrounded by half-packed cardboard boxes and piles of miscellaneous kitchenware that Em was sorting into piles of "Keep," "Give Away," and "I Don't Fucking Know, Put It Over There And I'll Decide In A Bit." Despite my attempts to convince her that she didn't need to put anything in the Keep pile since Alex had his own kitchen filled with his own miscellaneous kitchenware that was arguably better quality than hers, Em had insisted she wanted to bring her own things.

Part of me was convinced it was because she was panicking, since now that the fundraiser concert was over and Christmas was looming on the horizon, the move was real and happening and terrifying. And by part, I mean the part that was literally all of me because it was so damn obvious. The problem was that I'd been working constantly and had barely had time to see Em, so all those real and terrifying thoughts she was having were going unchecked until there was no way for me to talk her through them.

That was how I ended up sitting on the kitchen floor helping her pack instead of working, even though it was Daniel's Saturday with Baylee.

"Please, Kelsie," she'd begged. "Can't your boss give you just one Saturday off? I need your help and this way we can focus on it. I'll get Jimmy to watch Leia and Pepper and we can knock out a bunch of packing all at once."

I'd done the math in my head quickly and decided that I could still afford the Taylor Swift tickets even if "my boss" gave me one Saturday off, so of course I'd agreed.

Though I was somewhat regretting that as she turned the conversation to her brother.

"Weird?" I repeated. "Why would you think things are weird?"

She examined the slightly deformed plastic bowl she was holding before handing it to me. "This one's a Keep. And I don't know, it just seems like you're both sort of 'proper' towards each other, if that makes sense."

"Not even a little bit," I said, even though it totally did.

She laughed and grabbed another bowl, this one smaller than the first one. "Maybe it's just me."

"Probably that," I agreed.

"Keep," she said, handing me the smaller bowl. "Or maybe it's Jimmy that's weird right now."

I put the bowl in the Give Away pile. "Weird? How?"

She shrugged. "He seems kind of... I don't know. Not depressed, just... resigned. Alex said he started noticing it after the concert so I thought maybe he wasn't sure what to do with all his extra time or something, but it hasn't gone away."

Concerned guilt surged through me. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

Except I totally had.

I had seen Jimmy at the concert, but unlike all the other times I'd seen him after That Night, we didn't talk to each other because we couldn't and not because we were avoiding each other. When he wasn't running around catering to Big Mike's every whim, he was on stage, and when he wasn't doing either of those things, he was watching the show with a sense of accomplishment and pride that made him glow.

Not that I noticed the way he was glowing or how good he looked when he smiled the way he was or the careful carelessness he'd styled himself with, his lean body complimented by the dark jeans and well-fitted t-shirt and... well, like I said. I didn't notice.

Not even a little bit.

In any case, he was there and he was busy, so I didn't have to force myself to pretend like things weren't weird between us. That was good, because I was focused on Baylee, who was walking on sunshine somewhere near cloud nine for pretty much the entire day.

She wasn't on stage long; just for the set with the Poplin Family Jug Band, but that was more than enough time for me to see what I had dreaded seeing.

"She loves it, doesn't she?" Em had asked.

I watched Baylee's blonde hair bounce to the beat as she played her tambourine, skinny hips swaying in time to the music. If I thought Jimmy had been glowing, Baylee was the embodiment of light. Her face shone with joyful exuberance as she played and I knew.

I just fucking knew.

"Looks like it," I replied as evenly as I could.

Knowing me as well as she did, Em caught the thickness in my voice. Hiding as much as I was from her, she mistook it for one of those emotional Mom moments where I was overcome by pride and excitement and astonishment at how fast my little girl was growing up rather than a moment of worry and fear and a sense of abject failure knowing I couldn't foster Baylee's passion the way I wanted to.

Jimmy, on the other hand, seemed to figure it out from his place across the room. As Em wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulder, his eyes met mine, dark and deep and understanding.

I don't know what he was trying to say with that look, but it was more comforting than Em's half-hug. Hating myself, I smiled back at him thankfully, then tore my eyes away and watched my daughter live her best life on that stage.

All too soon, it was over. I met Baylee at the side of the stage, catching her as she hurled herself into my arms.

"Mom, did you see it?!" she asked breathlessly. "Did you see me play?!"

"I saw, sweetie." It took some effort, but I managed to lift her into the air as I hugged her, and she squealed with delight. "You did so good. I'm so proud of you."

"Quick, look here!" Em said, and I turned and smiled in time for her to snap a picture. Behind her, I saw Jimmy watching us, but by the time I put Baylee back down and looked in his direction again, he was onstage, guitar slung low as Leia played yet another set.

She was onstage for most of the concert. I wasn't sure whether it was funny or sad; I don't think anyone was fooled by the fact that she wasn't quite a child prodigy. I mean, she was okay, but she was a kid. Instead of giving her the space to learn, they'd pushed her onto a stage to perform long before she was ready. And instead of giving her room to make mistakes, Jimmy was playing along to each and every song, so poor Leia thought all the cheers and hollers and hoots were because she was doing so well when it was all a charade.

It seemed unfair to me. I mean, my personal feelings on the whole situation aside, Leia did work her ass off learning to play guitar. But I'd seen the nerves on her face the very first time she'd performed. She hadn't been ready, and instead of letting her discover the skills and confidence she needed, they were lying to her. Like, what was the point? I still wasn't sure about the whole drum lessons thing for Baylee, but if I was going to suffer through listening to her practice, it wasn't going to be for nothing.

But it wasn't my place to tell Em that, so Baylee and I watched the rest of the concert together, and I tried not to think about how good kissing Jimmy had felt every time I looked at him.

When the concert was done, Alex took everyone out to eat. I caught Jimmy's eye once or twice, but each time he happened to start towards me, I noticed someone else in the room that I'd been meaning to talk to and was gone before he reached the place I'd been standing.

And I was pretty sure that it was that, above all the other things, that twisted him into the subdued version of himself.

"I thought maybe it was a girl," Em said, breaking me out of my thoughts in the worst possible way.

"Like he's seeing someone?" I asked.

"Or was seeing someone and it didn't work out." She shrugged and handed me another bowl. "Give Away. Or maybe he actually is pissed about me moving in with Alex."

"I don't think it's about you," I said. "Have you, um, asked him about it?"

"Yep."

"Like, about you moving?"

"Yeah, and about why he's acting so weird." She shrugged again. "He said he's not and that it's none of my business. God, it was like having a flashback to when he was a teenager. I'm dreading when Leia goes through that phase."

"Tell me about it," I said, relieved that Jimmy hadn't told Em anything about us.

"What about us?" she asked.

I raised an eyebrow. "What about us what?"

"Are things weird between you and me?"

"I... what?" I asked.

She put down the bowl she was holding and studied me. "Well, I thought you were avoiding me for a bit."

I swallowed hard. That was sort of true, but it had mostly been because I'd gone through a few days of all-consuming paranoia that she would figure out I kissed her brother. Then, since I was trying to avoid Jimmy, there'd been a time or two or more than I could count that I'd come up with some excuse not to hang out if I knew he'd be around.

"Things are crazy at work right now," I said. "There were some quality issues with our new line of stress-relief candles spontaneously igniting so we had to do a recall and, you know, with the holidays coming up it's just... it's a lot."

"Right," she said, unconvinced.

"Em, come on." I picked up a beat-up looking wooden spoon and added it to the Give Away pile. "You were busy with the concert planning stuff and getting ready to move and raising your kid and sucking your boyfriend's dick, probably." She couldn't hold back a laugh and I smirked at her. "This time of year is always busy for me at work, and then I was also driving Baylee to, like, rehearsals and performances and shit with the Poplins."

"That's no excuse," she said sternly, moving the spoon from the Give Away pile to the I Don't Fucking Know pile. "How busy could you have been? You didn't even have any dicks to suck."

I feigned offense. "Bitch."

She laughed again, though the smile faded quickly. "Maybe I'm just worried."

"About what?"

She looked up at me, eyebrows furrowed. "You're my best friend. I don't want that to change because we're moving. I thought maybe you were avoiding me because it would make it easier when we leave."

"That's not true at all," I said, which was the truth because it wasn't why I was avoiding her. "If it was, d'you really think I'd come here and help you pack?" And give up an entire day of pay that I could be using for Christmas presents, I thought, but didn't add that part out loud.

She spotted the bowl I'd put in the Give Away pile and moved it to the Keep pile. "'Help' me pack is questionable."

"Not my fault I suck at packing. I warned you."

"You did not."

"Not my fault you didn't think to ask me if I was any good at packing."

I had to admit spending the day with her was nice, despite the active role I was taking in making my life more difficult. It had been a while since Em and I had spent time together, just the two of us, no kids and no dog and no Alex or Mike or Jimmy or whoever else happened to be around.

At the same time, it was almost strange, simply because it felt like it had been so long since we'd just hung out. I thought it was me, at first, knowing I was hiding something from her like kissing Jimmy, but as the day wore on, I started to think maybe Em was right.

I didn't know which of us was most responsible for it, but maybe things were kind of weird between the two of us.

In any case, neither of us acknowledged it. I did my best to hide the nagging feeling as the day wore on, laughing and talking as we finished packing up the kitchen and moved on to the living room, which went much faster. In fact, it went so quickly that instead of ordering pizza for dinner like Em planned, she suggested going out to an actual restaurant.

"My treat," she'd insisted, though based on the cost of the place she'd suggested, I assumed it was actually Alex's treat. Part of my pride wanted to decline, but the place she wanted to go was renowned for their seafood and I fucking loved shellfish, so I swallowed that pride along with enough shrimp to start a unique ocean ecosystem in my stomach.