by Aja Cole
I open my mouth then close it, considering. “I want him to…want to be around…both of us.”
“So in other words, you got it bad.”
I don’t even bother denying it. “Yes, but that’s not what matters right now and whatever does or doesn’t happen as we go forward is between us.”
“Mhm, I expect weekly check-ins to this love story, so don’t let me down.”
Raised voices come from outside, and we all move to the windows, peeking out at different places. Chris and Jackson are standing about two feet apart from each other, though they keep moving around and gesturing as they talk, and once their voices lower, there’s no way to tell what they’re saying unless we open the windows and that would be too conspicuous.
“They’re not fighting, that’s good, right?” I ask.
“I wish Jackson would turn so I can try to read his lips.” My mom adds.
“Please, you just want to look at them because they’re nice lips.” Corie scoffs.
“I doubt they’ll fight, and if they do, it’ll be an agreed upon hit just to get the anger out.” My dad chimes in.
“Chris wouldn’t hit Jackson.” Even as the words leave my mouth, my brother proves me wrong, swinging his fist out at Jackson’s face. I gasp, immediately moving away from the windows to go give Chris a piece of my mind, but Corie snags my arm before I can get far.
“Look, it’s already over. Dad was right.”
Not completely believing her, I look back out the window in time to see them shake hands, probably more firmly than they needed to…but it is a handshake.
We manage to scramble back to our respective seats just before they come in, and I tamp down the urge to get Jackson something for his face since I’m not supposed to know that it’s most likely throbbing right now.
Chris sticks his hands in his pockets, giving me a hard stare. I stare right back because I’ve never cowed to my brother and I’m not going to start now.
“I knew you weren’t going to listen to me. Something told me in my bones.”
“And yet, you still wasted your breath.” I smile sweetly, and he looks towards the heavens.
“Lucky I like this - sorry in advance, Mama - fucker. Better him than Vaughn, though I have questions about what this little arrangement looks like down the line.”
“Whatever it will or won’t look like is between three people. Me, Jackson, and by extension - this baby. You will know when I want you to know. Kay?”
Chris rolls his eyes, looking over my head to where Jackson’s resumed his place near me. “Good look, bro. You’ll need it with two Drake girls.” Chris claps his hands together, turning to head towards the dining room. “Now, can we eat? I’m starving.”
“Hey, Nomi? Nomi, wake up.”
“Hmm?” I shake my head, “Tired.”
“I know gorgeous, but it’s important. Your place flooded, they need to talk to you.”
That wakes me all the way up, and I take my phone, jamming it to my ear.
“Hello? What happened?”
The next few minutes go by so quickly, and at the end of the conversation, I’m frustrated and in a bit of disbelief. I end the phone call and stare at Jackson, who’s pulled over and watching me intently, waiting to hear something.
“There was a leak, and by the time they knew about it, it just…erupted. Or something like that? I can go by tomorrow to see the damage and grab anything I can salvage, but they have to replace the flooring and something about pipes so there’s no telling when me or the other tenants affected can move back in. They’re willing to let me out of the lease with my deposit back or allow me to move into another unit at the same price until it’s ready.”
Starting up the truck again, he pulls out onto the street and gets on the ramp for the expressway, opposite the direction of my apartment.
“Where are you going?”
“You’re staying with me, at least tonight. Tomorrow, you can decide what you want to do, but please don’t argue with me about it right now.”
I narrow my eyes, because I was definitely going to tell him to take me back to my parents.
But never let it be said that I don’t know when to pick my battles.
“Thank you.”
I can see him smile from the corner of my eye.
“You’re welcome. Go back to sleep, I’ll wake you when we’re home.”
I’m silly enough that it doesn’t escape my notice that he said when we’re home and not, when we’re at my house or anything that laid another boundary down between us.
I know my thinking is dangerous, because there’s absolutely zero guarantee that he’ll be able to get past me keeping my secret, not when he’s still obviously dealing with what his ex put him through. And I can’t really blame him, because I’d probably feel the same way if I were him.
At the same time…everything starts somewhere, and I’m still foolish enough to believe that if it’s meant to be, then a little hiccup like getting past trust issues won’t stop us.
But there are still things I don’t know about him, and I wore rose-colored glasses for too long with one man already…I have to make sure that I fight through the urge to do that again.
23
The world is moving around me.
“Wha…”
“Shhh, it’s fine. I got you.” Jackson says, cradling me easily against his chest. I close my eyes again, not needing any extra incentive. My eyes feel like sandbags, and I distantly realize that we’re going up stairs.
“Don’t have pajamas.” I murmur, already uncomfortable at the thought of sleeping in my jeans. Sure, they’re stretchy but not nearly as stretchy as I need them to be.
He sets me down on a bed and I sink in, yawning. “I’ll get you something.”
As much as I want to lay here and not get up until tomorrow, my bladder runs the show and I slip off the bed slowly, trying to adjust my eyes in the darkness. I unzip my boots and drop them to the floor.
The room is huge and I head towards what I’m pretty sure is the bathroom, closing the door gently behind me and flipping on the light. Way too damn bright.
But wow, the bathroom is really nice.
Big, airy and done in wood, black and dark brass. A huge black framed glass door has the shower and tub inside of it, taking up a third of the room. There are four windows just above the tub, and shower heads and handheld sprayers on both walls, with the tub in the middle near the wall. Double vanity with matching accents and lighted mirrors. Judging by the things neatly scattered across the counter, this is Jackson’s master. Walking further in, I open one door that turns out to be a closet before I open another and find the actual toilet.
Finishing up quickly, I wash my hands and dry them with one of the hand towels on the rack, sliding a longing glance at the tub.
I bet it’s so nice.
Maybe I can snag a soak in it before I move into one of the other units in my building.
“Nomi? Brought you a toothbrush and pajamas.” Jackson says outside the door, and I open it, stepping backwards so he can come inside.
“This bathroom is ridiculously nice for one man.” I take the clothes from him and set them on the large stone counter before I take the toothbrush.
“Well, when I bought it, I was married. I thought it was way too…showy, when we first moved in. I didn’t care about any of this kind of stuff, but it’s grown on me.” He picks up the toothpaste from his side and passes it to me, “You wanna grab a shower?”
“Together?” The word passes my lips before I can actually think about it.
But he doesn’t hesitate for a second, turning to open a cabinet. Pulling out a fluffy towel and a pouf, he sets them on the counter next to my clothes.
“Well, there are two shower-heads so, sure. But I don’t mind waiting or using another bathroom.”
“No, I mean, if it’s fine with you, it’s fine with me.”
“Cool.” He bends down, pulling out a box from under the sink. “This is some
scented stuff from PR packages, if you wanna see if there’s anything in here that you want to use.”
“You just keep this stuff?”
Pause. “People use it if they forgot to bring something.”
I hold my smirk, “People?”
Jackson raises his eyes to mine in the mirror, “Women.”
“Ohh, so this is your goodie box for overnight guests. Got it. Well, I wouldn’t want to use up any of your stash.” I nudge the box back towards him, then wet my toothbrush. We brush our teeth in silence, the only sound in the bathroom occasional running water and foam hitting the sink. Setting the blue handle in the holder, I grab the pouf and towel, throwing the towel over the rack next to the wall once I get to the shower.
If I just don’t think about the fact that Jackson is in here too, I can pretend that I’m completely unaffected. Clearly he’s not worried about being uncontrollably attracted to me while I’m naked and wet in the shower, so I shouldn’t be worried about it either.
Yep, totally normal.
I get out of my clothes as quickly as possible, then use the hairband I keep around my wrist to put my hair up into a tight bun. My edges will probably curl up, but it’ll have to do for tonight. Stepping on the wood floor of the spa-style shower, I fiddle with the shower handles, only pausing for the smallest second when I hear the door open behind me.
Just don’t look at him.
But knowing that there’s a naked Jackson just mere feet away…my nipples riot. Not only are they so hard that they could probably scratch the glass, but they’ve gotten thicker and longer since I’ve been pregnant, so subtlety doesn’t exist. And this bathroom is basically the perfect temperature, so it can’t be blamed on a breeze.
But it’s fine, because as long as I stay completely turned to this wall, then I can pretend this isn’t even happening.
If I try hard enough, like, really, really hard. I can hear the water spray from the other side, and I focus on my own shower, letting the warm water flow over me and closing my eyes to turn in a circle so I can wet my whole body. There’s a small bar of soap on the shelf and I grab it, but it slips from my hand, sliding into enemy territory.
Fuck.
“Shower gel.” Jackson murmurs, too close to me. Keeping me eyes trained on the wall and ignoring that I can feel his presence…that if I stepped back, I’d probably be flush against his body…that there’s probably water droplets slipping down over his abs…over thick biceps…turning his hair inky black and plastering it against his cheek…
I hold out my pouf and can hear the air leave the bottle as he squeezes some on, can see his tanned hand and arm from the side.
“Thanks.” I say softly.
“Need me to do your back?”
No.
Wordlessly, I pass the pouf over my shoulder and he takes it, running it over my back and shoulders. A few times, his fingers brush my skin and I hold as still as a statue, my arms crossed over my breasts. When it seems like he’s finished, I drop my arms to take it back…but then he keeps going.
The pouf travels and suds over my butt, then the backs of each of my legs, before he reaches around to wash my front, rising to his full height before he turns me around by my shoulders.
I’m on fire.
Every swipe of the pouf may as well be his hands, because the small barrier isn’t doing anything to keep me sane.
I swallow hard and keep my eyes trained in front of me, at the middle of his chest, because it helps me keep the little bit of distance that I can manage.
Maybe I should be asking him what he’s doing, asking him why he’s doing this, asking him what this means…but I don’t want to. Because ignorance is bliss, and I’d rather just enjoy the moment than agonize over what it probably isn’t.
I close my eyes as it slips over the outside of my breasts, and I’m so close to keeping it together…until the fabric scratches over my hypersensitive nipples and a gasp falls from my lips, the sensation on the edge of pleasure and pain.
“Nomi.”
I shake my head silently, even though he only said my name.
I know that sound.
That gravelly, decadent note in his voice is part of what got us here.
I watch the pouf hit the wood and skip my eyes away from his middle.
It’s because I’m looking down that I have time to lose my breath, watching his big hands move up to cup my breasts.
He rubs the pads of his thumbs over my nipples and heat jolts straight through me. If my knees weren’t locked in pure self-preservation, I’d probably drop to the floor.
“They’re so much bigger,” He rumbles, “Darker, too. Just as sexy, though.”
“Jackson…”
“I didn’t think I could find you any more distracting and hot, but damn, it’s possible. I thought I would be able to be in here with you, and because I’m still figuring out how I feel about us or if there’s an us, that I could…shower, leave and not be affected.” His hands slide from my breasts to my stomach, soapy and slippery. “But the moment you got undressed, I knew I was lying to myself. I can’t resist you anymore than I could deny this baby, and part of me is mad at you for it. How can you be so damned irresistible? How did you get so deep in my head, make me feel like shit when you ignored me for months and then just…be here, and be so fucking…you?”
“What do you want me to say?” I ask, voice husky. “You think I didn’t think about you? Or try to make myself stop thinking about you? You think it was easy for me to leave California early, to pull myself away from a man who finally made me feel like he genuinely wanted me after being discarded for months by the man I’d promised to spend my life with?”
“Sure seems like it was pretty easy for you.”
I stop his hands on my hips, holding them still.
“I thought you lived in a different state and wanted entirely different things for yourself than I wanted for my life. Do you realize that I just left that, only I had no idea until I’d already wasted my time and lost the parts of myself that made me feel like me. Then I found out that I was pregnant, and it became even more clear that I couldn’t afford to fuck up that way again in the name of chasing some feeling that I’m not even sure is about anything more than good sex.”
Jackson moves quick, taking my face in his hands and not giving me a choice but to finally look at him full-on.
God, I wish I didn’t.
Hazel eyes blazing, jaw taut and inky, dark hair slicked to his head…water droplets clinging to his stubble and his lips, color high on his cheeks.
A vision.
“Look me in my eyes and tell me that all you think we have is good sex.”
I fall into those eyes of his, and I couldn’t get the lie past my lips if my life depended on it.
But…I can if it means preserving a tenuous truce with our baby girl at the center.
He doesn’t trust me, not really.
I don’t know enough about him to trust him fully. I’m fresh off a divorce, and I’m sure I’ve got shit that I haven’t even worked through yet that’s going to rear its head and turn this ugly.
We’re not ready to be more than this. If we have even the slightest chance of building anything, I don’t want to do it with sex clouding our judgement or a feeling of responsibility for the baby.
I want something that lasts when our libidos are gone and we have to communicate with words and not our bodies.
“I think that we have really good sex, And because we have really good sex, I can’t have anymore of it unless we’re sure about what we’re doing. I don’t want temporary or hasty decisions…I want real, genuine, true love and if that’s not on the table, then co-parenting is the only thing I can offer you.”
Dropping his hands from my face to my neck, with his thumbs just under my jaw, he lowers his mouth to mine and takes my lips in a scorching kiss that makes my toes curl against the flooring. I part my lips to let him in and he strokes his tongue inside, tangling with mine before he pulls bac
k, dropping a few lingering kisses before he releases me.
Then…he backs away to his side of the shower, soaping up without dropping his eyes from mine.
“You mind?” His lips tilt, nodding towards the shower door. “I’d like some privacy, since you’re all clean now.”
I just barely refrain from throwing something at his head, and the only thing that stops me is that I don’t really have anything to throw because the stupid bar of soap is still on his end! Rinsing off the last bit of suds, I step out of the shower, snatching the towel and wrapping it around my body.
Before I leave, I tap on the glass to make sure he’s paying attention, then I throw up my middle finger, “You’re an asshole!”
Cursing him under my breath the whole time I jerk on clothes and go into the bedroom, I’m even more pissed off because I’m still so turned on.
Tomorrow, I’ll check on the damage at my apartment and then I’m moving into a new unit, because I’m not staying with Jackson and torturing myself any longer than necessary. We can do this together just fine without being under the same roof.
It reminds me way too much of how good things were when we were under the same roof and I thought that there was nothing else we could offer each other.
I think it feels worse, us being right here together and him not wanting more.
At least when I thought there were more obstacles, it didn’t feel so much like rejection.
But then, I guess the only difference is that last time…I was kinda the one doing the rejecting.
24
I don’t know where Jackson slept or where he is, but I high-tail it out of his place as soon as I wake up. I can’t get into the car I ordered fast enough, but I send him a text once I’m almost to my place and let him know that I’ll see him at next week’s appointment.
Only…after I talk to management and find out more about what happened and what needs to happen…I wish I had someone else with me.
Carpeting, walls, the ceiling, insulation and some of the piping has to be re-done. Because of the layout, my bedroom and the nursery took most of the damage, so everything that was in my closet fared mostly well.