As if Jackson can sense this, he says, “Let yourself go.”
And his words are my undoing. With one more thrust he finds the same release, and we fall into the bliss together. I tumble over the edge of the cliff I’ve been trying so hard to reach and break apart beneath him. For a nanosecond, I’m nothing. Just a million splintered pieces that drift off into warm oblivion. I hold on to the sensation for as long as I can, but as fast as I fall apart, I snap back together.
Holy shit.
* * *
Afterward I lie on my side and enjoy the idle path Jackson’s fingertips make across the length of my arm.
“Was that okay?” His eyes are apprehensive. As if he doesn’t know it was okay. The sounds that were coming out of my mouth should be confirmation enough.
“It was...” I pause and search for the right words. There really isn’t any way to describe it. My mind is buzzing with too many emotions and thoughts, and I haven’t had time to wrap my head around any of it. “It was something else,” I finish.
It’s gone. I can’t believe it’s gone. Just like that, there’s one less twenty-one-year-old virgin walking this earth. One less girl with something to guard. I’ve given him something that I can never get back, but it feels natural and right.
The strange thing is that I don’t feel any different—I’m the exact same person. I don’t know what I was expecting. It’s not like I thought I would be a different person the next time I looked into the mirror, but I expected to feel different about myself somehow.
The only thing that has changed are my feelings for Jackson. It’s so strange, the weird pull I feel, the desire to be closer with him in every way possible. It’s like I need to be physically next to him and learn everything about him that I can, and there isn’t enough time in the world for any of it. I feel rushed and for no reason at all.
He cups my face and brings it to his in a sincere kiss. “More importantly...are you okay?”
I smile. “I’m okay.”
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” His voice is loaded with concern.
“No,” I answer quickly. “I mean it hurt a little at first, but after that it was—just wow.”
He puts the tip of his index finger between my eyebrows and slides it down to the tip of my nose. Then he brushes his thumb over my lips, his eyes a deep, gorgeous blue. “You are so cute.”
I feel my brows pull in. “Are you seriously calling me cute right now?”
He shakes his head and the corner of his mouth lifts into a smile. “You’re beautiful.”
His words tumble through my mind, what they mean, the way they sound. It’s like I’m hearing them for the first time. Like they never truly held any value until coming from his mouth. And it’s something so much more than the way I look. It’s the way I feel. I feel beautiful, like I’m shining, putting the stars and everything beneath them to shame.
This is it, I realize. I’ve found something that I didn’t even realize I was looking for. The one person on this earth who can touch me in a way that reaches beyond the skin and into the soul. All the people I’ve met in this life, all the times I’ve been touched—it’s never been in this way. I imagine that this is something that some people spend their entire lives searching for. And I’ve found it. All the people on this earth, and the one I needed the most has been in front of me this entire time. I just had to open my eyes.
Chapter Thirteen
I’m parched when I awaken, my mouth too dry to swallow. Cautiously, I untangle myself from Jackson and slip from the bed. I gaze down at him for a second. His breaths rise and fall in a steady cadence, and he looks peaceful. I love waking up like this—in his house, in his bed, with him. It’s exactly where I should be.
I leave him and mosey down to the kitchen. I pour a glass of water and cross the room to the floor-to-ceiling windows of the great room. It’s an amazing view. It’s a shame that it’s taken me so long to stop and enjoy it. Things like this should be enjoyed every day.
Jackson’s voice echoes down the stairs. “Charlie?”
I climb back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I take one timid step into the room. “Hi.”
“Come here.” He sits up a little and pats the spot beside him. “I thought you’d left.”
I set the glass of water down and scoot back into bed. “Why would I do that?” His body heat bites through the chills the morning brings. He’s always warm. I love that.
He shrugs then yawns. “What time is it?”
I check the clock. “Eight o’clock.”
He wraps an arm around my waist and tugs me closer. “We could go back to sleep.” I stare at him bright-eyed and awake, and he chuckles. “Or...I could make you breakfast?”
I smooth my messy hair from my face. “I need a shower.”
His grin is wicked. “We’ll take one together.”
* * *
I stare down at the purple toothbrush Jackson picked out for me, smiling like a fool. “When did you get this?”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “After last weekend.”
We brush our teeth side by side, watching each other in the mirror. I spit and rinse. “I didn’t mind using yours.”
He smirks. “I didn’t mind you using mine, but I thought you might want your own.”
I stay by the sink as he reaches into his shower and turns a few knobs. The multitude of showerheads spray to life. Is having that many really necessary?
Jackson pulls his shirt over his head and my thoughts disperse.
He extends his arm into the shower, testing the temperature. “You coming in?”
I shift my weight from one foot to the other, suddenly shy in his presence. “I’m not sure.”
He crosses the tile floor and brushes the hair from my face. Then in one swift movement he grabs the hem of my T-shirt, the only piece of clothing covering me, and pulls it up and over my head. Every inch of my bare skin heats when it’s gone.
He steers me to the shower. “You can’t be timid with me now.”
I enter and let the hot water pour over my face until he joins me.
He places his hands on my shoulders and turns me to face him, and then he laughs. I laugh too, and my insecurities are washed down the drain with the water.
He soaps up a sponge and runs it across my skin. The body wash smells like him, and now I smell like him. I do the same for him, taking my time. He washes my hair, massaging his fingers into my scalp, slowly and methodically. I close my eyes and sag against his chest. I could stand here with him all day...and we practically do. We stay beneath the hot water until our fingers shrivel and prune.
Jackson runs a towel over his wet hair. “I’ve got a robe somewhere if you want it.”
I nod and continue to brush through my hair. The only comb he owns is tiny and thin, and it threatens to break each time it snags against a tangle.
He returns with a white terry-cloth robe and sets it on the counter beside me. He smiles at me in the mirror and plants a kiss on the back of my shoulder. “You belong here, Charlie.” Then he turns and leaves without another word.
* * *
Something that smells amazing hits me as soon as I step off of the bottom step, and my stomach growls. “You really are talented in the kitchen.” It’s an observation, but the words are out of my mouth before I realize it.
He shoots me a lopsided grin. “I’ve told you I’m talented in many things. When will you ever start listening to me?”
I raise my eyebrows in speculation. “Cocky, are we?”
“Confident,” he corrects.
I roll my eyes, but I can’t keep a smile from my face. “Confident.”
My phone dings with an event reminder. I retrieve it from the counter and open the calendar application. Damn! I completely forgot about a
wedding I’d RSVP’d to months ago. An old acquaintance from high school is getting married, and tonight at that. I scrunch up my nose in thought. Do I even have anything to wear? Surely. Taylor will have something, if not.
Jackson hands me two plates, and I set them on the kitchen island. “I think there’s some juice in the fridge.” He motions with his head, his hands busy as he flips an egg in the skillet.
I pull the container from the refrigerator and fetch two glasses. Then I place them on the breakfast bar and slide up into one of the seats.
He turns around and grins. “You hungry?”
I take a sip of my juice and nod. My smile feels like it’s a mile wide, because seeing him like this—grinning and cooking breakfast for me shirtless—makes me realize that I do belong here.
* * *
I lie on the couch with my head in Jackson’s lap while he watches TV. The news is on. I’m not very interested. Instead I stare up at his eyelashes jealously. It doesn’t seem fair. He’s got a set of lashes that any woman on this earth would kill for.
My mind wanders to a time when we were children. His mother used to trim the tips, because they brushed against his eyeglasses. It used to make him cry.
“Do you still wear glasses?” I ask.
He looks down, surprised with my random question. “No. I’ve had laser surgery.”
“Oh.” I can’t believe anyone would agree to get that close to his eye with a laser. In all seriousness, how were they able to concentrate?
He returns his attention to the news program, and I let a few minutes pass before casually mentioning the wedding. “So I’ve got this thing to attend tonight.”
“Oh?” His smile is smug. “A thing?”
“A wedding,” I specify.
I can see the amused spark in his eye. “A wedding?”
“A wedding that I would like you to attend with me.”
“A wedding that you would like me to attend with you?” he parrots.
“Will you be my date?” I finally say, cutting to the chase.
He ponders for a moment, and a small, teasing smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “I’m not sure. I mean, you’re really springing this on me. I don’t have anything to wear.”
I roll my eyes.
He laughs. “Of course I will. What time should I pick you up?”
“Five.”
His gaze returns to the screen, and I’m left to stare up at his ridiculous lashes. How did I get so lucky?
* * *
“You had sex, didn’t you?” Taylor points one perfectly polished finger in my face.
“Taylor Hastings, I am not—”
“You did! I can tell.” Her eyes have a crazy shine, and I know that there’s no way out of this conversation.
“Okay,” I admit. “I did.”
She shrieks and shakes me by the shoulders. “I knew it! You’re so easy to read.”
I nod at the door. “Get out of my room right now.”
Her feet remain planted, so I put my hands on her shoulders and steer her toward the exit. She turns and steers herself back inside.
“I’m serious.” I point at the door. “I’ve got to fix my hair.”
“For what?”
“Stacey Cellar’s wedding.”
She wrinkles her nose. “You’re going to that?”
“Yes, with Jackson, and I need to look presentable so you need to leave.” She can be very distracting.
She turns once again. “Well, let me help you.”
I know she just wants to grill me, but I agree and flop down in front of my full-length mirror anyway. I wait for the onslaught of questions to come but they don’t. She only smiles and starts bringing my hair to life with the curling iron. She still hasn’t said anything by the time she starts twisting my hair into a waterfall braid, and I think maybe—just maybe—she’s letting me off easy.
Then it comes. “So,” she says. “How was it?”
I flush. “We’re not talking about this, Taylor.”
She grins. “Just curious. Most first times are awful.”
“Well, mine wasn’t.” I hesitate as I try to find the right word. Earth-shaking and mind-blowing both come to mind, but instead I say, “It was nice.”
She frowns. “Nice? Really, Charlie?”
I roll my eyes but laugh. “It was amazing. I see what all the fuss is about now.”
“So that means you...you know?”
“Oh my God.” My cheeks flame. “Yes, I did. But we’re not gonna talk about this, so stop.”
She chuckles. “Just wanted to make sure I didn’t need to chop his balls off or anything.”
“Taylor,” I admonish.
She laughs and flips a piece of hair over her shoulder. It’s then that I notice that she’s not sporting her usual straight locks. Her hair is curled and she’s wearing makeup. She has on sweats now, but it’s obvious she has plans. “What are you doing tonight?”
She shrugs. “Devin’s got something planned, but he won’t tell me what.”
Proposal. That’s my first thought. And a humongous grin cracks my face. I try hard to wipe it off, but it isn’t easy. It’s sort of impossible. It’s a good thing she isn’t paying attention.
“Did you ever find out anything about the prescription you found at your dad’s?” she asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
My eyes snap up in the mirror. She doesn’t take her gaze off the back of my head, working calmly and casually.
“I’d forgotten all about it,” I admit. If I’m being honest, I haven’t given it any thought since the pool that day. And when I think about how sick he looked last Friday, all the worry I felt after finding it comes flooding back. It makes me feel guilty. And mad at myself. I should have gotten out of the pool and done a quick search on my phone. I know he said he wasn’t sick, but why did I believe him so easily?
“What was it even called?” she asks. “I can’t remember.”
I furrow my brow and concentrate. “It started with an E. Erlo...something. I can’t remember the rest...” I trail off and shake my head in frustration. “Maybe it was nothing.” But what if it isn’t? I hate myself for brushing it off the way I did.
Her eyes catch mine in the mirror, and there’s something there... Worry? I can’t tell. I don’t recognize it, and as fast as it comes she blinks it away. “You should ask him about it.”
“I’ll ask him.” I’m mainly making the promise to myself. Sometime during the next week, I’ll make the time to ask. Because it’s something, not nothing, and I can’t ignore the warning flags.
* * *
When I emerge from my room I’m only ten minutes late—not bad, considering. Jackson’s in the kitchen talking to Devin. He’s wearing a black suit, and he looks delicious. His purple tie matches my dress. Taylor insisted I tell him what color I’d be wearing, which I thought was ridiculous. But it’s not, because we’re matching and it’s cute. And now I can’t stop smiling. “You look handsome.”
He turns and plants a quick kiss on my lips. “You look beautiful.”
Devin winks and claps him on the back. “The two of you would make some seriously cute babies.”
I chuckle and shake my head. Then ask Jackson, “You ready to go?”
Jackson nods and slaps Devin’s hand in some sort of weird shake/pump thing, and then says, “I’ll catch you later, man. Good luck tonight!” Seriously? They grin at each other before we leave.
“You two have a handshake?”
Jackson shrugs it off and steers me to the door. “I guess you could call it that.”
He’s in the M6. I like this car. It makes me feel dangerous.
“Why’d you wish Devin good luck?” I ask as he slides behind the steering wheel.
The
engine purrs to life, and he looks over at me with a grin. “Because he’s going to ask Taylor to marry him.”
I ball my hands into fists to deny myself the strong urge to clap and shriek like a complete girl. “Tonight?”
He nods. “Tonight.”
I knew it! “How long have you known?”
He backs out of the drive and pulls onto the street. “A few weeks, I guess.”
I scowl. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He didn’t even hint that he knew.
He shrugs. “I promised I wouldn’t.”
I pout for a few minutes, but curiosity gets the best of me. “Have you seen the ring?”
He nods.
I press him. “What’s it look like?”
Another shrug.
This isn’t going anywhere. I’ll just have to wait with the rest of the world.
“So, who is Stacey marrying?” Jackson makes conversation as we drive.
Stacey Cellar went to high school with both of us. She was a semi-friend of mine. Not one I could ever trust, or one I kept close contact with after graduation. But I had a few college classes with her, and when I got the invitation two months ago, Claire convinced me I should go. She and Stacey played soccer together, so she’ll be there too.
“Kevin Brentwood,” I say. “I don’t know him. I think he’s older than her.”
Jackson’s eyes dart to me then return to the road. “Did you say Brentwood?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“Kind of.” The grip he has on the steering wheel tightens. “He’s Mary Jane’s cousin.” When I don’t say anything he clears his throat. “He’s not that bad though. Honestly.”
Mary Jane’s cousin, huh? I don’t like him. Even if he is half-decent. And if he’s her cousin, she’ll be in attendance. My stomach plummets.
“I hope there’ll be alcohol there,” I say. “Lots and lots of alcohol.”
* * *
The ceremony is set to be outside. The weather is sweltering, but we’re beneath the shade of willow trees and there’s a breeze.
Jackson’s arm is stretched across the back of my white garden chair. His fingertips make lazy circles on my arm. Such a simple touch, but it hits at the core.
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