Here we go. More questions. But somehow, I don't mind as much as I should.
"Yeah."
"When was your last relationship?"
I'm quiet for a moment, thinking about Sarah. About how that ended. "Seven years ago. Right after I came back from my last tour."
"What happened?"
"She tried. I'll give her that." I stare up at the ceiling, at the wooden beams. "She waited for me while I was deployed. Wrote letters. Sent care packages. All the things you're supposed to do. But when I came back, I wasn't the same person who left."
Jade's hand stills on my chest. "PTSD?"
"Yeah. Nightmares, hypervigilance, the whole package. She tried to help, tried to be patient, but eventually—" I pause. "Eventually she realized I wasn't going to go back to being who I was. And she couldn't love who I'd become."
"I'm sorry," Jade says softly.
"Don't be. She made the right call. I wasn't good for her. Wasn't good for anyone."
"And you still believe that? That you're not good for anyone?"
I look down at her. Her blue eyes are serious, searching mine.
"I don't know what I believe anymore," I admit. "A week ago, I would've said yes. Absolutely. But now—"
"Now?"
"Now you're here. And I'm trying to figure out what the hell that means."
She shifts, propping herself up on one elbow so she can look at me properly. "What do you want it to mean?"
That's the question, isn't it?
"I don't know," I say honestly. "I haven't thought beyond today. Beyond this."
"Okay. So, let's start there." She's still tracing patterns on my chest, and it's distracting in the best way. "Do you want me to leave? Pretend this didn't happen?"
"No."
The word comes out faster than I intended, more certain.
"Do you want to see me again? After today?"
"Yes."
"Do you want this to be just sex, or something more?"
I'm quiet for a long moment, really thinking about it. Because this is where it gets complicated. Where I have to decide if I'm willing to risk this, risk her, risk the isolation I've built.
"What do you want?" I ask instead.
She smiles slightly. "I asked first."
"Jade—"
"I want something more," she says, not letting me deflect. "I like you, Eli. I know we barely know each other. I know you've got walls a mile high and I've got my own shit I'm dealing with. But I like you. I like the way you are with Ridge. I like that you taught me how to cook eggs. I like that you opened up to me, even when it was hard. And I really, really like the way you just fucked me."
I almost smile at that last part.