“I love it,” I say softly, my heart turning over itself. He thought of me. He bought me a gift. This has to mean something. “Thank you.”
“You really like it?” He looks so eager, so hopeful. He reminds me of a little boy.
Nodding, I smile. “I do. It’s beautiful.”
“Let me help you put it on,” he says, taking the necklace from my hand and undoing the clasp. “Hold up your hair.”
I do as he says, lifting my hair up as he stands close behind me, looping the chain around my neck, his fingers fumbling with the tiny clasp and brushing against my nape. I can feel the gooseflesh rise from his touch.
I wonder if he sees it.
“There you go,” he says when he closes the clasp. I turn to face him. “It looks good on you.”
Jackson reaches out, tracing the charm, his finger coming awfully close to my chest. I hold my breath, waiting for what he might do next, but disappointment washes over me when he turns away so his back is to me.
“You’re right,” he says as he surveys his room, his hands on his hips. “I’m a fucking slob.”
“No, I shouldn’t have said that. You just got home,” I start, but he turns on me, his expression…
Angry.
“Why do you always do that?” he asks, his tone vaguely hostile.
“Do what?” I blink at him in confusion.
“Defend me. You shouldn’t.” He runs both hands through his hair, clutching the back of his head, his biceps bulging. “I’m a shit, Ellie. And I shit all over you on a daily basis.”
He does, but I don’t call him out for it. Instead, I reach up, tracing the edge of the silver sand dollar. “I love my necklace.”
“It’s not enough for what you do for me though,” he says, dropping his arms to his sides. “What do you want from me?”
Irritation floods my veins. I hate how he’s suddenly putting this on me. “I don’t know what I want.”
Liar. You know exactly what you want from him. You’re just afraid to say it out loud.
“You know,” he says, his voice low. “Admit it. What do you want from me?”
I remain quiet, refusing to let the words leave me. If I say them, that gives him the opportunity to reject me, once and for all.
And I don’t think I could handle that. Not tonight.
“Whatever it is you want, I don’t think I can give you,” he says after a long minute of my silence. “I’m a fuck-up who can’t commit.”
I roll my eyes. “I hate your excuses.”
“They’re not excuses.”
“They are.” I take a couple of steps toward him, until I’m practically standing on top of his boots. “You know what you are? A chicken shit.”
“I’m a chicken shit?” He raises a brow. “You’re the one who won’t confess your feelings.”
“Right back at you, asshole,” I toss at him, anger filling me as I turn and head straight for his bedroom door.
I’m fast, but he’s faster. He’s got me pinned to the door before I can even open it, his hot, hard body pressing into mine. I lift my chin, glaring at him, and he dips his head, his alcohol-tinged breath wafting over my face.
He’s drunk. I need to remember that. He’s not in the right frame of mind.
“You want me to confess my feelings?” he asks. “Here we go. I need you in my life, Ellie. And I want you. I want you so damn bad, it’s all I can think about right now. But I can’t take it to the next step with you, because I will mess it up. I guarantee it. Whatever expectations you have of me in your head? The reality will not meet. I’m a mess. I make mistakes. And I’m not loyal. Not to women.”
His words leave me confused, but he also said he wanted me. He wants me.
I need to stand strong. “You’re just afraid to commit. You can’t even take a record deal when they’re throwing them at you like candy.”
His eyes narrow as his hand comes up to touch my cheek. My skin burns where his fingers press. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Uh, I think I do. We’re pretty close, Jackson. You’ve told me a lot of stuff over the years,” I remind him. “I think I have you pretty well figured out.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I’ve got you figured out too,” he says, his voice taunting, despite the gentle way he touches me. Such a contradiction. Typical Jackson. “You’re just a lonely, scared virgin who puts all your hopes and dreams on a guy like me who keeps you at arm’s length because it’s safer that way.”
My mouth drops open and I jerk away from his stroking fingers. His description hurts. Only because it’s too close to the truth. “You’re such a prick.”
“I warned you.” His grin is faintly menacing, and I wonder if he’s acting like an asshole on purpose. It’s like he wants to prove a point. “I’m not good enough for you, Ellie.”
“That is the worst excuse ever,” I tell him, annoyed. He’s said that time and again, and I’m tired of hearing it.
“It’s the truth. And the truth always hurts.” He leans in close, his mouth a whisper away from mine. “Doesn’t it?”
A trembling breath leaves me and I swear he swallows it. I stare at his lips, willing them to touch mine. Yes, he’s an asshole. Yes, I will probably cry over this conversation later, but right now, all I can focus on is Jackson.
And his deliciously full lips only inches from mine.
“You want me?” he whispers.
I don’t say a word. I don’t freaking move.
“I’ve been curious.” His face shifts, his cheek pressed against mine, his mouth at my ear. “What would little Ellie Jessup do if big bad Jackson Rivers took her to his bed?”
I reach up to shove him away from me, but instead, my hands land on his broad shoulders and my fingers curl into his soft T-shirt. “You won’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“You’re too afraid of the repercussions if you did,” I answer. “The responsibility. You’d feel too guilty.”
“I’m not feeling real guilty at the moment,” he drawls.
I tilt my head back to find him watching me with an unfamiliar gleam in his eyes. Is this what it’s like, to truly be ensnared in Jackson’s web? Because this is heady stuff. Having him pressed against me, his hands braced on either side of my head, his face still so close to mine. I could rise up and fit my mouth to his, no problem. I have a feeling he’d respond without hesitation.
But where would that lead us? Past the point of no return?
Yes. I know it would. And I don’t want to risk it.
That’s my biggest problem, right? I’m not a risk taker. And Jackson Rivers is the biggest risk of my life.
I have a feeling he’d be the biggest mistake of my life too.
“Jackson,” I say, my voice a warning.
“Just one kiss, El. Give me one,” he murmurs. “You know you’ve been dying for it since the first time we met.”
I want to hit him. I want to kiss him. Not only is he a contradiction, he is my contradiction. I hate him.
I love him.
I don’t want to be near him.
I can’t help but come back for more.
Jackson reaches for me, his fingers cradling my chin as he lifts my face up so our gazes meet. “Kiss me.”
I slowly shake my head, denying myself what I’ve wanted for so long. “It’ll be a mistake.”
“No, it won’t. Come on.” He smiles, his straight, white teeth almost blinding.
“You’ll regret it,” I whisper.
“I will?” His brows shoot up, his thumb stroking my jaw. “You so sure about that?”
I nod, his fingers never slipping from my face. “You’ll kiss me once and want to keep kissing me.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” He touches the corner of my mouth with his finger and I want to melt, damn him. “Maybe you’ll feel the same way.” He frowns. “You’ll kiss me once and never want to stop.”
He smiles. Leans in closer, his mouth so close to mine, I feel it move when h
e speaks. “Let’s test this theory then.”
I should let him kiss me. Consequences be damned. I’ll survive. I’ve lived through all of his torture before. What’s one kiss? And what if he’s terrible at it? That would end my suffering once and for all, and besides, it’s the perfect time for him to be terrible at it.
He’s drunk. He’ll be sloppy. Unskilled even.
I don’t think too much about it. Instead, I tilt my head back, lift up and press my mouth to his. He goes completely still, I think from shock, and nothing happens for a second. Two. Three. I’m about to pull away, mortified that he doesn’t react, when he cradles my cheek with his hand and moves his mouth against mine.
Oh God. He’s kissing me. Jackson Rivers is actually kissing me. And it’s not sloppy at all. He’s just as skilled as I was afraid he’d be.
He tilts his head to the side, his mouth soft, his lips tugging on my lower lip. I open for him, his tongue sliding in, dancing around my own. My entire body turns to liquid at the first touch of his tongue and my fingers clutch fistfuls of his T-shirt as I anchor myself to him, drowning in his kiss.
It’s so good. Too good. Everything I was afraid of. How will I go on if all I ever get is this one kiss?
Jackson ends it first, pressing his forehead to mine, his breaths ragged. As if he’s just run a marathon. I swallow hard, trying to find the right words to say, but what can I do after a kiss like that?
Demand more, that’s what.
I edge closer to him, just about to press my lips to his again when he says, “That was—nice.”
I pull away, dread settling low in my stomach. “What did you just say?”
“Ellie. Come on. You know we can’t do this, right?” His hand drops from my face and he takes a step away from me.
I’m immediately cold at the loss of his warmth. Oh, and furious. Coldly furious.
“Right,” I bite out. “We can’t do this.”
“It was a great kiss though.” He smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Why is he acting like this? Why is he pushing me away? “You’ll be hard to resist.”
His compliment feels like a smack in the face. The smack of reality I need. “You’re an asshole, Jackson.” I reach behind me, my fingers fumbling with the door handle before I grasp it tight. “Looks like you proved your point.”
“What point is that?” He sounds genuinely confused.
“That you can have me whenever you want me.” I open the door and am halfway out of his room before I say, “But that was your last shot. Hope you enjoyed it.”
I slam the door in his face before he can utter another word.
Five
Jackson
One month later
“Fuck me, it’s hot out here.” I grab a water bottle and drain it in a couple of swallows, glancing around the field as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. We’ve been running drills all week at football practice and I’m fucking sick of it.
But I’m also happy as hell to be back out on the field, all the trappings of Jackson Rivers, teen dream rock star behind me.
At least temporarily.
“Yeah,” Eli says, squinting into the sun as he watches our defense run their asses across the field. “Sucks. Glad to be here though.”
“Same.”
He sends me a look. “Are you really? You don’t miss performing?”
“This is performing too, you know. A different kind of performance,” I tell him, gesturing toward the field. “Sometimes I think I enjoy this more.”
“Really?” Eli sounds baffled. “I think it would be pretty awesome getting so much attention focused on you from all the girls. The record execs wanting to sign you. People wanting autographs and shit. That’s cool as fuck.”
“It’s cool, but it’s also a lot of pressure.” So much lately, I don’t like talking about it anymore. “I prefer being part of a team.”
“Even when we’re a shitty team?” Eli grins and shakes his head. “I don’t miss high school football at all.”
“We weren’t that bad back then,” I defend, because we weren’t. We just played teams that were so much better than us.
“I understand where you’re coming from with the pressure,” Eli says, changing the subject. “With Ash gone, coaches are looking at me to carry this team.”
“What about Jerry?” He was Ash’s second-string last year. He’s a senior this year and can throw like a motherfucker. And by motherfucker, I mean pretty great.
“He’s been messing up. Throwing a lot of interceptions lately.” Eli sends me a look. “Haven’t you noticed?”
I shrug. “It’s still early days.”
“We’ve been practicing for a month. Our first game is this Saturday.”
Nerves flare within me at his words. “Shit.”
“Yeah. You forgetting dates or what?”
We’ve been in class for a week. I haven’t forgot. But then again, I sort of have. I’m just going with the flow, and not really paying attention to what’s going on around me, I guess. Too busy always looking for Ellie.
Haven’t spotted her on campus once. Is she even here? I don’t know. I’d love to ask Eli about her, but that’s opening a can of worms I don’t want to examine right now.
So I keep my mouth shut instead.
Ever since our kiss that night, I haven’t really seen her. Definitely haven’t talked to her. Girl said she was blowing me off and she’s stuck to her word. I deserve her abandonment. I give her a gift and tell her I can’t be with her. I kiss her, after letting another girl suck my dick, all in the same night. Ellie is right.
I’m a complete asshole.
But I’m also right.
I don’t deserve her.
I miss her though. So damn much. I miss her smiling face and laughing eyes. I miss her encouragement and the way she makes me believe I can do anything I set my mind to. I miss just being in her presence, whether it’s in person or virtual. She hasn’t even Snapchatted my ass, not once in the last month, which is some sort of record for us. It also hurts.
Her rejection stings, but I suppose I asked for this, acting like I did that night.
Pushing all thoughts of my shitty ways out of my mind, I change the subject.
“How’s Ava?”
“She’s good.” Eli rubs his chin, his gaze filling with longing. He misses his girl something fierce. “Meeting new people, having fun with her roommate. Checking out San Diego. Hanging out at the beach every weekend. Having the time of her life without me.”
“Bro. Get a grip. She loves you,” I tell him, hating how sad he sounds. A depressed Eli is no fun, let me tell you.
“I know. I just—it sucks that we’re living separate lives. Though you’d think I’d be used to it by now. We’ve pretty much always lived separate lives for the entirety of our relationship,” Eli says, exhaling loudly.
Ava went to a different high school than us. She’s a year younger than us too, and he was at Fresno State while she was a senior in high school. He’s right. Their lives have always been fairly separate.
“You’ll get through this.” I punch him in the arm, needing to lighten up the moment. I hate heavy shit. “Stop being such a pussy.”
He grins. “Dick.”
“Sweet talking each other as usual.”
We both turn to find Tony standing there, sweaty and with a tired smile on his face.
“You know it,” I tell him. “How’s it going?”
“Good. Feels like I’m standing on the edge of hell.” Tony takes a long drink from his water bottle. “This weather sucks ass.”
“Yeah, it does,” I say with a nod. “Can’t wait to play Saturday night’s game out here.”
“It’s at seven so it’ll be a little cooler,” Tony says, trying to be optimistic.
“Right. It’ll only be ninety instead of ninety-nine,” I say drolly, making Eli laugh.
“We should grab something to eat after this,” Tony suggests. “You guys down? I’m sure Caleb
would go too.”
“What about Diego?” I ask, glancing around. I spot him in intense conversation with one of the offensive coaches on the sidelines. “Think he’d want to come with us?”
“He mentioned having to head straight home after practice to take care of Gigi. Jocelyn has a night class,” Tony says.
“It’ll just be the four of us then,” Eli says with a nod. “Let’s do it. I want tacos.”
“You always want tacos.” I shove Eli’s shoulder and he staggers backward with a laugh.
“I want someone’s taco, but she’s not here right now,” Eli says with a leer.
Sick fucker. Though he doesn’t say that kind of shit about Ava usually. He keeps the details of their relationship pretty much to himself. Which to me is always a sign that he loves her and doesn’t want to disrespect her.
Tony is the same way. He’s quiet when it comes to his girl. Diego is as well. These guys and their steady relationships. I don’t get it. We’re young, we’re in college, we should be fucking as many women as we can before we have to grow up and be responsible.
The only one who agrees with this thought process is Caleb. That guy is insane for all women, and I love him for it. He will bang whoever he wants, whenever he wants to. I aspire to that. I did do that while on tour. It was a sing fest and a fuck fest. A bit of a drug fest too, if I’m being real.
And now, I’m doing nothing. Playing football. Going to class. Having a few beers on the weekend, smoking a little weed. We’re back to playing Call of Duty in the evening too.
Honestly? It’s kind of boring, compared to what I was doing over the summer. Singing and touring and meeting new people. Seeing new places, performing for new crowds, reveling in their adulation. That was some cool shit.
It was lonely though too. Being on the road. Traveling constantly, having no one to share it with beyond my bandmates. We grew closer. They’re cool, but they’re not my friends.
Not like these guys.
Once we’re done with practice and showered, we head over to a Mexican restaurant not too far from Tony and Caleb’s condo. We order our food at the counter and go find a table, which is a fight considering how many people are currently in this place.
The Sophomore Page 4