The Inheritance Games Chapter Rewrites

A Forever Kind of Love (Ch. 71 of THL)

I waited for Jameson to ask me about the postcards. I waited for him to flirt with me, to touch me, to Jameson Hawthorne the answer out of me. But all he did was hand me a club.

I lined up the shot. Part of me wanted him to come stand behind me, wanted his arms to wrap around mine. Jameson on the roof. Grayson in the maze. My mind was a mess. I was a mess.

I dropped the club.

"My mother was Kaylie Rooney's sister," I said. And so it began. It was hard to put into words everything I'd learned, but I managed. The more I said, the easier it was to see Jameson thinking.

The more he thought, the closer to me he came.

"What do you think Toby left in Jackson that's worth so much?" he asked. "And where in Jackson?" Jameson studied me like my face held the answers. "How long did Toby's amnesia last? Why stay 'dead' once his memory returned?"

"Guilt." I almost choked on the word, though I couldn't have explained why. "Toby loathed himself almost as much as he loved my mom."

That was the first time I'd said that last bit out loud. Toby Hawthorne loved my mother. She loved him. It had been an epic, seaside kind of love. Literally. Just knowing that made me feel like I'd been lying to myself every time I'd pretended that I didn't have feelings, that things didn't have to be messy.

That I could have what I wanted without ever really longing for anything, body and soul. And the truth was that I knew I was. Maybe Max was right, that night at True North, when she said that I didn't allow myself to want, that I held everybody at arm's length.

"Heiress?" There was a question in Jameson's deep green eyes. I wasn't sure what he was asking, what he wanted from me. But looking at him, I felt a longing that felt buried deep in my chest and a sob was building up in the back of my throat.

I wonder what he saw. A hopeless romantic? A liar who was actually attached to him? A girl who did long for an epic sort of love? One that would last a lifetime, beyond that. And my inner compass was pointing directly at him, the one person who couldn't grant me what I wanted. But it was rattling erratically with such force and I couldn't do anything to stop it. The crazy thing was, I didn't want it to.

Maybe I was being irrational but I didn't want this "no-strings attached" thing anymore. I wanted him, I couldn't lie to myself any longer, I don't know why I thought that a no-strings arrangement wouldn't backfire on me; that I wouldn't catch feelings. How could I not?

"Avery?" His voice broke me out of my thoughts. He was closer now and looked concerned as he slowly cupped my cheeks. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head and a tear slid down my cheek. He swiped it with his thumb. I couldn't speak, the words were stuck, and the urge to cry was stronger. What wasn't? Toby's message to stop looking, I missed my mom, I fell for the guy I told myself I wouldn't and I wanted to say how I felt but I didn't know how to. I didn't want to scare him. But being with Jameson made me realize that we could be more, he could be something to me. I could love and be loved in return. If my mom could have it, even for a short while, why couldn't I?

"Kiss me," I whispered hoarsely. He obliged. His mouth pressed against mine in a perfect, tender, all-consuming kiss. It was everything I needed it to be and I let the tears flow but Jameson caught every single one. He continued to gently brush them away with his thumbs and when he pulled away, he started peppering small kisses on my cheeks, catching each new one that fell. I let him.

Then, he stopped and I opened my eyes, catching sight of his sad smile. I think he knew. But he surprised me. "I'm here, Heiress. I don't know what's going through your head right now but I'm here for you. It's going to be okay."

He leaned forward again and kissed my forehead, bringing an arm around me and stroking my hair gently. I felt like crying again. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, clutching his blazer. "It's going to be okay, Avery." It's going to be okay. And I believed that. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. Soon, I'll say it. I'll tell him how I feel, no matter what. It was going to be okay.

"I think I'm in love with you," I whispered.

I might have been imagining it but I think he said something back. "I think I'm in love with you, too."