“Don’t even think about saying he only did it because he’s looking out for my best interest.” “I wasn’t,” William replied. “I was going to agree with you. It was none of his bloody business.”

“How do you feel?” I asked, trying to bring my heart rate down. It wasn’t having any of it. “How’s your head?”“My head’s fine,” he said, winding his arms around my back. “It’s my goddamn heart that’s about ready to bust something.”

“Then what are you doing here, Luce?" he asked, his voice elevating. "You want time? You want space? Fine. I gave that to you. But then you keep throwing yourself back into my life whenever the hell you choose. No warning. No apology, No permanence. You show up at my front door and sneak out the back without so much as a goodbye," he continued, never taking his eyes off of me. "You couldn't take the up and down. The roller coaster was going to kill you. You know what I can't take? You in and back out of my life before I even knew you were there in the first place. You looking at me the way you are now and then able to turn your back and walk away five minutes later." His hands clenched over my cheek before he lowered it. "That is what will kill me. I can't live wondering if you're still mine to claim.”

“Luce," Jude said, unfurling the blanket cinched around me, grabbing my hands when he pulled them free, "you're my girl. The girl." To join the other emotions flashing over over his face, a trace of pain did as well. "When I look at Adriana, or any other girl for that matter, that's all I see. Some other girl who isn't my girl. I don't see them, Luce. I see you," he continued, his skin lining between his brows. "I've only ever seen you.”

“I wanted you to feel the rage boil in my blood when I found out you were going on a date...with him tonight," he cursed the word, "after being with me last night. I wanted you to feel the same pain I did. The goddamn same debilitating pain.”

“Lou didn't need to tell me, Luce," he said, looking between me and the field. "I don't need someone to tell me when my girl's in the stands. I could pick you out even if I was playing in the Superdome and you were tucked into the back row.”

“Hi, I’m Jude Ryder Jamieson,” he began, extending his hand. I took it, shaking it. He held onto it when I tried to pull it back. “My mom left when I was thirteen. My dad’s serving a life sentence for killing a young kid. I spent the last five years in a boys’ home being bullied, beat, and abused by the kids, the staff, and even the goddamn dog. I sold drugs. I did drugs. I got arrested. A lot. I screwed a lot of faceless women.” He paused, sucking in a breath. “And then I met one whose face I couldn’t forget. I fell in love with her. I hurt her because I fell in love with her and was afraid she was going to leave me the way everyone else had.” He lifted his other hand, cradling mine between his. “I still love her.”