I thought at the time he just hadn’t found the right woman yet. Like Gracie and her endless dating. But maybe he’s telling me the truth. Maybe he really has no desire to get married and have children. He wants that rock star life, where he’s free to do whatever he wants with no responsibilities.
“That can mess with people’s heads, witnessing the fallout of their parents’ relationship,” Gracie says. “But hey, this is progress in your relationship with Jackson. Have you talked to him? You two been texting all day?”
I slowly shake my head. “We haven’t talked.”
“At all?” She sounds incredulous.
“Not at all. He’s supposed to pick me up from work tonight.”
“And you haven’t texted him to confirm that?” She makes a noise. “That is the perfect excuse. You need to text him right now. Pronto. Ask him if he’s still getting you.”
“Okay, okay, but he’s at practice right now. He won’t answer me.” It’s almost five o’clock. He’s still on the field.
“Whatever. He’ll get the text when he’s done and answer you. If he doesn’t, though...” She shakes her head firmly. “What a dick! You’ll know where you stand.”
Uneasiness fills me at the idea of him not responding. I would be devastated. “It won’t be too pushy?”
Ugh, I need to stop being so insecure. Two seconds ago I was feeling on top of the situation. I am on top of it. And Jackson is finally giving me what I want—his attention. Himself. I need to stop worrying over every little thing and stand up for myself.
I’ve got this.
“Push as hard as you want! It’s your right. He had his fingers between your legs last night. He’s seen your O face. Don’t you want to see his O face?” she asks.
Yes. Yes, I do.
“Right. Your lack of answer is a yes. Text him right now.”
I send him a quick text.
And hope I get to see his O face tonight.
Nineteen
Jackson
We enter the Doghouse Grill and stand in line, the guys joking and giving each other shit while I remain quiet. They ignore me, and I wonder if they can feel the tension radiating off of me in waves. I’m a strung-out mess.
All over seeing Ellie.
I need to get a fucking grip.
She’s not at the counter taking orders, which is something she does on occasion. It’s some other cute girl who is flirtatious with every single one of us, including me.
“Aren’t you Jackson Rivers?” she asks me before I even give her my order.
I can hear Eli snickering behind me. The asshole.
“Yeah.” I smile, not in the mood to lay on the charm, as usual.
“I love your songs,” she says, snapping her gum. “I listen to you on Soundcloud.”
“I’m on Spotify too,” I tell her.
“Yeah, but you’ve got a couple of covers on Soundcloud that you don’t have on Spotify. I like the covers a lot. Your Nirvana remakes are amazing.” She grins.
I check her out. I can’t help it. She’s cute. Tight little body. Nice smile. Good lips. Decent tits.
Not interested.
“Thanks,” I say. “I want a cheeseburger.”
I give her the rest of my order and pay before heading for the soda dispenser. Caleb is waiting for me, a mystified expression on his face.
“That girl was all over your stick,” he says.
“She was not,” I say irritably, as I fill my cup with ice and then add Cherry Pepsi.
“She so was. Flirting hardcore and you didn’t even notice.” I can feel him watching me. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” I say with a shrug as I snap a lid on my drink and grab a straw. “I’m not going to fuck around with some girl who works with Ellie, Caleb. I’m not stupid.”
“Oh. Good point. I would’ve jumped all over it and then fucked everything up.” Caleb frowns.
Sounds about right. But I don’t say that out loud.
Caleb doesn’t think before he leaps. He just jumps—consequences be damned. I’m pretty much the same way, so I really have no room to talk.
We find a table and wait for our food, and I keep watch for Ellie to appear. I don’t know where she’s at, but I know she’s here. I got her text when we finished with practice, asking if I was going to pick her up tonight. I said yes, and now here I am, way earlier than planned, which might throw her.
But then again, maybe she’ll be glad to see me.
The double doors that lead to the outside patio swing open and she appears, a big smile on her face as she carries a tray of empty glasses with one hand, balancing it with ease. Oh damn, she looks fine as fuck in those short shorts and the navy Bulldogs T-shirt that clings to her chest perfectly, her dark hair in two braids that hang long past her shoulders, showing off her adorable face.
“Ellie!” Diego shouts, and she stops, pivoting toward our table when she sees us all.
Though I’m fairly certain she hasn’t noticed me yet.
They all greet her when she stops by our table, making idle conversation as she nods and smiles at each of us. Her gaze settles on me and her smile becomes knowing. As if we share a little secret.
Which we do.
I can’t help but smile at her. It’s automatic. Like breathing.
“Hey, Jackson.” Her voice is completely normal.
I almost sag with relief.
“Ellie. Looking good.” I nod toward her, unable to help myself.
Her cheeks turn pink. “Thanks. You’re still picking me up tonight, right?”
“You didn’t get my text?”
“I haven’t had a chance to check it yet. Been on duty.”
“I’m coming back to get you,” I confirm.
“You can come in early and hang out with Chuck again if you want,” she says with a shrug.
“Is he working?”
“Sure is.”
“I might do that. Kind of tired though. Was up late last night,” I say.
“Oh?” Her eyes are wide. Her cheeks now blazing red.
The guys swivel their heads from me to her and back to me again.
“Yeah. Might take a nap before I come back here.”
“Okay. Sure.” She nods. Swallows hard. “See ya.”
She leaves.
They all look at me.
“What the fuck was that about?” Caleb asks, always the no nonsense one.
“Just their usual banter and shit,” Eli says, rushing to my defense. “No big deal, right, Jackson?”
“Right,” I say, taking a giant drink of my Cherry Pepsi.
But they’re probably all on to me. Fuck it.
I sort of don’t care. Would they really give me a bunch of shit if they found out Ellie and I have hooked up? Maybe. Caleb would for sure, but only because he doesn’t want to lose me as his last single friend.
We talk. About all sorts of things. Mostly football. I don’t say much. Just nurse my Cherry Pepsi, my eyes tracking Ellie’s every movement when she comes into view. She’s helping customers. Bringing them whatever they requested. Clearing their tables. Laughing and joking with a group of guys.
That makes the hair on the back of my neck rise up.
My number is called first and I go to the counter to pick up my food, waiting as they grab a couple of containers of ranch for me.
I smell Ellie before I actually see her.
“Didn’t expect you to come in so early,” she murmurs as she sidles up next to me.
I flash her a quick smile. “The guys wanted to come.”
“And you didn’t?” The disappointment on her face is obvious.
I hate that I put it there.
“Like I mentioned earlier, someone kept me up late last night.” I reach out, tugging on the end of her braid, my fingers brushing against her chest.
The disappointment is gone, just like that. “I’d tell you I’m sorry, but I’m not.”
“Aren’t you feisty tonight?”
She grins before she turns and walks away, leaving me hanging. I watch her go, my gaze on her ass. I need to get a better look at that ass. Naked. Maybe tonight.
“Hey! Your ranch?”
I glance over at the guy behind the counter who’s holding out two small containers toward me. I take it from him and set them on my tray. “Thanks.”
I head back to the table in a daze, Eli walking in the opposite direction, passing by me to get his food. He sees my face and starts laughing, the prick.
“You’re so fucked,” he calls to me.
Damn. I think he’s right.
It’s when we’re almost finished with dinner that I spot Carson, the fucker, here eating again. He was just here last night. Why is he back?
I know why. The second he leaves the counter after making his order—and he came by himself—he’s cruising straight toward Ellie, who’s on the far side of the restaurant, cleaning a cluster of tables after a big group left. I watch him touch her arm to get her attention, my blood heating when she turns to face him, a smile on her face when she realizes it’s him.
My gut churns, watching them talk. Ellie seems pleased to see him. He says something and she smiles. He says something else and she laughs.
What the fuck was that all about?
“Hey.” Eli nudges me in the ribs to get my attention. “You all right?”
I jerk my gaze away from Ellie and Carson, the dick, to smile tightly at my friend. “Never better. What’s up?”
“What’s up with you? You looked ready to chew through steel just now,” Eli says, his brows lowered in concern.
“I’m fine,” I say with much more assuredness than I mean. I don’t feel fine though. I’m ready to fuck someone up. He touched her.
Touched her.
And she didn’t stop him.
“Jackson, what’s going on with your music right now?” Diego asks me. “Playing any shows soon?”
“I’m on hiatus during football season,” I tell him. “School and football don’t leave me much time to do anything else. I’ve written a couple of songs though.”
“That’s so cool,” Diego says, nodding. “You have options, and both are pretty great.”
“The football thing is going nowhere,” I say with a self-deprecating chuckle. “I suck.”
“No, you don’t,” Eli says, immediately rushing to my defense. “You just haven’t had a chance yet to show them what you can really do.”
I completely ignore what Eli says. “I look at it like a vacation. I’m getting a little time off right now with my ass warming the bench.”
They all laugh, including me, and yeah, I’m trying to make light of it. I’ve tried to act like it’s no big deal all season, but I’m starting to feel a little low. Like, why am I even doing this? I enjoy being with my friends and being part of a team, but if I can’t get on the field, then what’s the point? I always bring my all during every practice, and the coaches lavish on the praise when I do something exceptional, which is more often than me screwing up. But they never put me out there during a game.
If this keeps up, I’m out. Seriously. I’m starting to feel like a complete loser, while the rest of my friends are actually playing. Even Caleb is out on the field during games.
We talk more about football and the upcoming game this Saturday. We’re flying to San Diego, so at least we’re not stuck on a bus for hours. Granted, it would be a nice bus, but still. My gaze slips to Ellie every time she passes by, lingering on her until she’s out of my line of vision. Carson is now sitting at a table, eating his food by himself. She stops by every few minutes to say something to him.
Yet, she’s never come back over to our table to say something to me.
What the hell kind of game is she playing? Does she need a reminder of who made her come all over his fingers last night?
Determination filling me, I rise to my feet, without saying anything, about to leave the table when Caleb pipes up.
“Where you goin’?”
“Gotta piss,” I lie.
I make my way toward Ellie, who is currently at a table near the back of the restaurant, close to the bathrooms. She’s cleaning off a table, stacking empty beer glasses in a tub when she sees me. She stands up straighter, wiping her hand on a dishtowel as I approach.
“Hey,” she says.
“Chat for a minute?”
“Uh—”
I grab her elbow and steer her toward the bathrooms, not giving her a chance to answer. I pull her into the short hallway, tucking the two of us into the farthest, darkest corner, her back to the wall, me standing directly in front of her.
“Jackson,” she hisses. “I’m at work.”
I kiss her, effectively shutting her up. She responds immediately, her arms coming around my neck, her lips parting for my invading tongue. I plunder her mouth, sending her the reminder she needs.
I’m the one she wants. I’m the one she’s kissing right now. And I’m determined to make her forget that little fuck Carson is trying to make a move on her.
When I finally end the kiss, we’re both breathing hard, and she’s gazing up at me with wide, dazed eyes. Reaching out, I trail my fingers along her delicate jaw, ignoring the swarm of confusing emotions that swirl within me.
“What was that for?” she asks, breathless.
“Just wanted to kiss you.” I do it again, keeping it light and quick. “I really like the braids.” I tug on the end of one, unable to resist.
“I look like a child.” She rolls her eyes.
“No, you definitely do not.” I rest my hand on her curvy hip, giving it a squeeze. “What did Carson want?”
She contemplates me, her lips curling into a barely there smile. “He wanted food. That’s why he came here.”
“Looks like he might’ve wanted something else.” I grip her hip, determined to act like I don’t give a shit.
Of course, this too perceptive girl sees right through me.
“Uh huh. Well, we were supposed to go on a date a few days ago, remember.” She presses her fingers against the back of my skull, giving me no choice but to dip my head and find her lips.
“Don’t tell me he asked you on another date.” I gently bite her bottom lip, making her sigh.
“He didn’t.” Her arms drop from around my neck, and she presses her palms against my chest, giving me a light shove. “But he still might.”
I stare at her, incredulous. “You’re going to tell him no, right?”
“I don’t know. Why should I? I’m not with anyone currently.” She exerts more pressure, giving me no choice but to back away from her. “I have to get back to work.”
“Ellie,” I say to her retreating form, still standing in the darkness. She glances over her shoulder at me, her expression questioning. “You’re really going through with it?”
“Going through with what? Nothing’s happened.” A devilish grin appears. “Yet.”
And with that, she saunters away.
Fuck. Guess I deserved that.
Twenty
Ellie
Pure joy streams through my veins, warming my entire body as I walk through the restaurant, smiling at everyone I pass. Oh, that little moment with Jackson just now was one I never, ever want to forget. The possessive gleam in his eyes when he tugged me back into the hall. His devastating kiss. The oh so not casual way he asked me about Carson.
He’s jealous. Unbelievable. I had no idea I could make him feel this way, and it’s an…exhilarating experience.
What a moment to be alive.
I didn’t expect Jackson to show up here tonight with his friends. But more than anything, I didn’t expect Carson to show up either. Alone. I thought he’d order his food to go, but he stayed, and he keeps trying to talk to me. Completely oblivious to the death glares Jackson keeps sending his way.
Once I make my way out into the restaurant, I gather up the rest of the dishes and glasses and take them back to the kitchen, whistling the entire time.
&
nbsp; I never whistle. I don’t think I’ve ever whistled like this my whole life.
I leave the kitchen and head straight for Carson’s table; he’s currently watching me with a sweet smile on his face. I don’t want to use him. That’s not my plan. I actually like this guy, and if Jackson wasn’t in the picture, I would go all in with Carson.
Jackson is in my life though, and for some reason, he still wants me, which I cannot deny, is thrilling. But it’s also fleeting. He won’t be around forever. Eventually he will ditch me, and while I can prepare my mind and heart and body for this, I’ll still be devastated.
Maybe it will be easier, knowing I can have Carson to potentially comfort me.
Ugh, I am playing a twisted game, and I need to make sure no one gets hurt, including myself. And Carson. I’m already in over my head…
“How’s your food?” I ask Carson, noting the mostly empty basket in front of him.
“The cheeseburger was great.” He leans back in his chair and pats his flat stomach. “I keep coming around here every night, I’ll need to exercise more to work this off.”
I laugh. “The food here is sinfully good.”
“Yeah.” He smiles, his gaze skimming down the length of my body, settling on my legs. “It is sinfully good.”
Um, I don’t think he’s referring to food.
My gaze lifts to find Jackson’s. He’s already watching me with Carson, his hand clutched into a fist, resting on the table in front of him. Oh, he looks furious.
Sexy.
All that fury pointed straight at me, though I’m not his target.
That’s Carson.
“Can I get you anything else? Take anything away for you?” I ask Carson, my tone light and flirtatious.
“You can agree to go out with me next week? When you’re free?” Carson asks, sounding hopeful.
I appreciate how straightforward he is. There’s no games with Carson. He’s interested. He doesn’t hold back with me, which I like. He’s confident. So is Jackson, but that’s a whole other level of confidence.
Carson reminds me, yet again, that he’s more my speed. But…
The Sophomore Page 17