by Rachael Wade
He hadn’t spoken to me in weeks. I’d catch him staring at me at Pete’s from the pool table, while I sat with Whitney at the bar. Then a sad smile would paint his face and his gaze would drift away.
“Mmmm, I like having new eye candy around these parts,” Whitney said that Friday night over our basket of coconut shrimp. After my third failed attempt to finish my math homework, I gave in to sleep for an hour and then cleaned up and headed out to Pete’s to meet her. We were on our second round of drinks, and as usual, Jackson and his crew were having a grand old time betting over a game of pool. There was a new guy in town who’d joined them, and Jackson was all about playing the newbie host. “If you wanna get your mind off of Jackson, how about taking a bite out of him?” She glanced over her shoulder to ogle Mr. New Guy as he leaned over the pool table to take a shot. “Or maybe I should, since Ruben’s out of the picture. I hear he’s from Seattle. And he’s a musician. Delish.”
“Not your usual type,” I said, eyeing him curiously. He certainly wasn’t Latino, and he was thin instead of built like a linebacker, but his geek glasses and tattoo-covered arms were pretty damn sexy. “Wow, all the way from Seattle? Wonder what brought him here. Wait, what about Enrique?”
“Meh. He was getting too clingy. We’re better just friends. Speaking of just friends...”
“Stop right there.” I slid the shrimp basket to my side of the counter. She was hogging it all again. How a girl so tiny could eat so much was beyond me. “I’m not talking about him tonight.”
“Chill, sister. I told you I understand your reservations about Jackson. But he loves you. I think he means it. He hasn’t laid eyes on any of the usual barflies in weeks, and Jeff said he’s been cleaning his apartment. Like, with real bleach and everything. I can’t help it. Now I have a soft spot for the son of a bitch. Have you given it any more thought?”
I smiled at her, my gaze skirting her shoulder to sneak a peek at him. I sighed. “Of course I have. But it’s too late. I turned him down. I hurt him.”
“It’s definitely not too late. If he’s what you want, you need to march over there and tell him. Then drag him into the nearest elevator and have your way with him.” She lowered the volume of her voice and reached out to touch my hand. “I know he stirs up painful shit for you, Em, but Jen would want you to be happy. If even the tiniest part of you feels the same as he does, don’t let that happiness slip through your fingers. And just omit all of my previous comments about him being an asshat. I’ll support the Jackson Rash from here on out, scout’s honor.”
I bit down on my lip, eyes fixed on our hands.
“Thanks, Whit. I think I do...feel something. I’m just afraid it’ll change everything.”
“See?” She winked and smiled, releasing my hand to take a swig of her drink. “What would you do without me? Take it from me, girl. Fear is powerful, but nothing stings like regret. There’s only one way to find out if it will change everything. If it does, cross that bridge when you get to it. Right now, go with your instinct.”
“Maybe I’ll go talk to him.”
“That a girl!” She slapped my back and snatched the shrimp basket away, jerking her chin over her shoulder as she did. “Go make me proud. And hitch up that skirt to show the goods.”
Standing from my stool, I took a deep breath and steeled myself for whatever it was I was about to do. All I knew was I wasn’t ready to lose Jackson—as a friend, or anything else—and now that he’d had some time to cool off after he’d stormed out of my apartment, it couldn’t hurt to start mending. Or building. Whatever had to be done, it was up to me to make a move. He’d let me know where he stood.
As my eyes set on his from across the room, a strange, sweet ache bloomed in me, one buried there by him. It unfurled and spread, sending butterflies fluttering through my stomach, calling me to reason that I might feel what he felt for me. But my gut still remained uncertain about taking that big of a risk. One that would not only chance hurting my heart, but my future and the memories of my past, too. It was a pain that I’d chosen to avoid for the past year, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face it.
His eyes were about to drift from mine again, but when I didn’t release them, he did a double take, a hint of surprise lifting his brows. He ran his thumb along his bottom lip and tilted his head, motioning for me to come to him, a soft smolder in his irises.
That look was all the confirmation I needed. He still wanted me. And I wanted him. He said I’d never be just another girl to him. Maybe it was time I tried taking him at his word. He’d been pursuing me from the very first time I bumped into him at Pete’s, after all.
I remembered that night like it was yesterday.
Chris and I had decided to try out a new karaoke joint on the island and had wandered into the bar. While Chris approached Pete to order for us, I went to look for the restroom.
“You might not want to go in there just yet,” Jackson had said, his smile widening as he sized me up in the restroom hallway. He blocked the ladies’ room door, leaning casually against the wall with his arms folded.
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“A friend of mine is in there with a lady friend of his, and well, they’re indisposed at the moment.”A roll of laughter echoed from behind the door, and he winked. “I’d give it ten more minutes.” Next came a loud bang. Then more laughter. “Okay, maybe five.”
“I’ll just use the men’s,” I said, turning for the other end of the hall.
“Hey,” his voice followed me, “you can’t just waltz into the men’s room.”
I stopped in front of the door and twisted around to face him. “Oh? I can’t? Is another one of your friends and his lady friend indisposed in this room as well?”
He snorted and shrugged. “Possibly. Either way, this is the South. I don’t know where you come from,” he smirked, eyes dropping to my chest, then my waist, “because I’ve never seen you around here, but we have manners in the South.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and shifted my weight onto my hip. “Is that so?”
“Yup. No swearing, no invading personal space, required please and thank yous, the whole shebang.”
“You asshole!” a girl’s voice rang out from behind him, the ladies’ room door swinging open. A pretty brunette stormed out, her cheeks flushed with anger. A tall, toned Latino barreled out behind her, tucking his shirt in. The brunette’s eyes widened when she spotted Jackson. She jabbed her tiny finger into his chest, shoving him up against the wall. “You were supposed to keep your mouth shut about that night in the lighthouse. Now the whole island knows!”
He laughed and put his hands up. “Charlene, baby, you should take it as a compliment. Not everyone is that flexible.”
The Latino guy smacked Jackson in the shoulder. “Way to cock block me, man.”
“What?” He was still laughing. “You shouldn’t have mentioned it to her, Ruben. You ruined it for yourself, brother.”
The brunette named Charlene gave Jackson one more death glare before she charged out of the hallway. Ruben raced after her, begging, “Char, come on, I just thought we could try it out! Please? Pretty please?”
“Screw you!”
His amused chuckle still lingering, Jackson craned his neck around the hallway opening to watch them leave.
I planted a hand on my hip, unable to repress my own smile. “You were saying?”
His head whipped back around, a boyish dimple springing up beneath his 5 o’clock shadow. “Oh, right. Manners.”
“Well, if you’ll excuse me.” I pushed past him back toward the direction of the ladies room.
“Wait, wait, wait.” He jumped in front of the door again. “On second thought, you might want to use the men’s room after all. It’s probably a crime scene in there. You wouldn’t want to dirty up that pretty little skirt of yours.” His eyes lowered to my feet. “Or those sexy heels. How tall are they? Six inches?”
“Don’t worry,” I smiled up at him, snapping open my purse
clutch to remove a bottle of hand sanitizer, “I’ve come prepared.” I popped open the cap and rubbed some on to my hands, then tossed the bottle back in the bag.
Jackson leaned in and narrowed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “Is that...pumpkin scented? They make pumpkin scented hand sanitizer?”
“They make all kinds. Nice, right?”
“It’s my favorite smell.” His gaze turned wistful. “Damn, I want some pumpkin pie now.”
“It’s mine too. Okay, nice meeting you...”
“Jackson,” he stepped aside, “Jackson Taylor. And you are?”
My lips puckered at the name, a grin breaking them apart when the recognition hit. “Ha! Ah, the notorious Jackson Taylor. I’ve heard about you. Great to meet you in the flesh. I’m Emma Pierce, not new to the South. Or the island. My boyfriend and I just found this place. He loves karaoke.”
“Yup, that’d be me. I’m quite famous around these parts. Boyfriend? So no chance of me buying you a drink when you’re done, I take it?”
“Afraid not. Don’t be too bummed, though. I doubt I’d be much fun. I’m not very flexible.” With a smug grin, I disappeared behind the ladies’ room door.
Had I known I’d be standing here at the same bar a few years later, staring back at the same handsome, mischievous blue eyes I’d crossed paths with that night in the restroom hallway, I wouldn’t have believed it. From the beginning, the idea of Jackson and me was laughable. But now he loved me, and I’d rejected him, and all I could think about was smoothing things over and taking a leap, damn the consequences. Whitney was right. The repercussions of regret were worse than those of fear. Regret stayed with you long after it did its damage.
Fear was only a temporary, easy out.
I stalked forward, over the small dance floor and past the karaoke section, smoothing my black spaghetti-strap dress as I did. It hit a few inches above my knees, showing off just the right amount of leg. I subtly hitched it half an inch higher with my fingertips, just as Whitney suggested. He’d seen a lot more of my legs than this, but I still reveled in the amount of skin the dress bared. The dress’s sweetheart neckline accentuated the little cleavage I had, puckering in the center, over my tan line. I felt good. Sexy. As ready as I’d ever be.
Sidling up to Jackson’s side, my eyes landed on the pool table in front of us.
He didn’t look at me. “How’ve you been?” he asked, voice low, thumb still drifting over his lip as he studied the table. Ruben, Jeff, and Mr. New Guy’s laughter drowned us out, washing us away until we were invisible to the surrounding crowd. It was just me, him and the static pulse thumping between us, shoulder to shoulder. He dropped his hand and our fingertips slowly floated together, forming a loose link between his body and mine.
“You’re not angry?”
“I guess it depends.”
“On?”
“What you came over here for. That dress is killing me, by the way.”
“Can we talk?”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips and his mouth found my ear, slyly eyeing my exposed skin. “I’m all yours, baby. You wanna get out of here?”
“Definitely.”
We stepped back and slipped out of view, feeling along the wall toward the exit. Every part of me tingled in anticipation. I could do this. I could talk this out and tell him I wanted him. Judging by the way he was looking at me, though, I knew there was a good possibility I’d tear his clothes off before I had the chance. Maybe I’d take him right there in his truck, or invite him back to my place to pick up where we left off the night Chris intruded and ruined everything. Or maybe I’d ask him to take me to his place. My curiosity burned with visions of what his room must look like. It was the one part of his apartment I’d never seen.. I was certain it smelled like him, all exotic and heady, mixed with manly sweat.
We reached the front door, and just as I’d thought we’d managed to sneak away from the crowd unnoticed, the door opened and Casey, my co-worker, appeared, expression full of surprise when we came face to face.
“Hey, Emma.” She beamed, lighting up even further when she saw Jackson by my side. He glanced at me nervously, his hands filling his pockets. “Wow, I’m glad I caught you. Whitney just texted me and told me to come up to join you guys for drinks. We’re long overdue for a girl’s night! You guys come here often?”
I stuttered, my eyes darting between the three of us. “Um, yeah, yeah we do. It’s our Friday night spot.” I forced a smile and twisted around to peer through the crowd for Whitney. I had to get rid of Casey before Jackson’s friends noticed our departure. Jackson and I needed to talk right away, before I lost my nerve. “I think Whitney’s over at the bar—”
“Jack, I’m glad I caught you, too.” She turned to him, her smile turning flirtatious. “You ran out this morning before I had a chance to make you breakfast.” Touching his arm, she gazed up at him from beneath sultry lashes. I’d never seen Casey this way. She was laying it on thick. “You should come by this weekend and we can pick up where we left off.”
Jack? My search for Whitney stopped cold, and my smile disintegrated.
“You...you two know each other?” I said, pointing between the two of them.
“Emma, you know Jack?” she turned back to me, her voice bubbling with excitement.
Jackson shifted uncomfortably, his gaze sliding toward me. “You know Casey?” he mumbled.
A lump rose in my throat and my hands started to sweat at what was unfolding before me. “Yeah...Casey and I work together at the nursing home.” My eyes were fixed on him as I answered Casey next. “Jackson and I know one another. We...go way back.”
Casey tapped both our shoulders, her short blonde curls bouncing as she spoke. “What a coincidence, that’s so great! Well, come on, guys, let’s go find Whitney and grab a drink and get our karaoke on.” She clapped and squeezed past us, leading the way, but my feet were anchored to the floor.
Jackson mumbled again, his voice tight. “Emma, let’s step out and we can talk about this.”
“Talk?” I squeaked, eyebrows shooting up. “Yes...yes, let’s talk.”
Casey swung back around and waved us over, and I remembered how to move my feet. I took a few steps toward her. I could feel Jackson reach for my arm as I walked away from him, but just as his fingers skimmed my elbow, he seemed to think better of it and released me.
“Um, Casey...” I said, lowering my head to speak under my breath, “can I ask how you know Jack?”
She giggled and lowered her voice, picking up on my cue to be discreet. She glanced around and pulled me in close, the same flirty smile she gave Jackson curving her lips. “I went home with him last night. But we’ve hooked up a few times before. He’s unbelievable in bed, Em. For real, they need to clone him, bottle his sexpertise, and put it on the market. I had no idea you were friends with him! Maybe you know just what I’m talking about, then.” She giggled and my mouth went dry, all the adrenaline I’d felt seconds ago gone, leaking from by body and replacing it with heavy lead.
Jackson had slept with her just last night. Just a few short weeks after his declaration, before he’d even given me a chance to process all he’d confessed to me. Before we’d finished talking things out. Maybe he’d assumed we’d already resolved things?
No.
He stormed out of my apartment before giving me the chance. There was no resolution, and his willingness to talk to me tonight after I’d hurt him was further confirmation that we had unfinished business. At first I thought he’d avoided me the past few weeks because he was still hurt, still angry with me. But the look on his face and his touch tonight told me he’d forgiven me and was just waiting for me to come to him, to come to my senses and give something more than our friendship a chance.
Waiting.
None of it made sense. If he was calling it quits with me entirely and moving on, he would’ve clarified that before sleeping with someone else, wouldn’t he?
My mouth agape as the confusion swarmed all around
me, I stared absently at my friend as she stood there, waiting for me to respond. I shouldn’t have been surprised—this was exactly what Jackson was known for—but my heart told me otherwise. It sank to the bottom of my gut, lodging there and leaving me winded.
“Yes...” I finally managed, “we’re good friends. I’m sorry, Casey, but I have to leave, will you excuse me?”
I spun around and hurried toward the door, my shoulder bumping Jackson’s as I brushed past him.
“Em, wait!” He was on my heels as I flew outside and down the bar’s porch steps. I passed through a cloud of cigarette smoke, crashing into someone at the bottom of the steps, not bothering to make eye contact.
“Sorry,” I muttered in my haze, maneuvering around the stranger.
“Emma, please.” Jackson caught up to me and grabbed hold of my arm as I reached my car door.
I yanked my arm away, turning to meet him. “Why...why did you do this? You couldn’t wait...until we figured things out? I know we aren’t together yet, but...what was the whole point of you telling me you love me if you were just going to leave before we had the chance to work things out? I know I hurt you, I know I said things that insulted you, but you didn’t even give me a chance to finish...I didn’t get to finish...” I cursed the tears the moment I felt them forming along my eyelids. I blinked them back and tried to focus on his face, but his expression only intensified the need to release them.
His lips were pulled down at the corners, tight with regret. “I fucked up,” he said, voice gravelly, “I didn’t think...” he swallowed, “you seemed so sure you didn’t want me. I gave you space these past few weeks because I didn’t want to smother you, and I was angry...I needed time to think about what you said. I didn’t realize you and Casey knew each other. I never would have...oh my, God.” His head fell into his hands and his shoulders slumped, and the image of myself, in the same position, flashed hot in my mind.