Unlike earlier when I wanted to get as far away as possible, the dam had been broken and I found I needed his comfort now more than ever. He placed a finger under my chin and tipped my face up to his.
“Do you want to tell me why after running away from me, ignoring my texts, I find you crying?”
“I told you things would be too complicated.”
“That doesn’t answer my question. What happened between the time you left and now?”
The demand in his tone made me move out of his embrace. If his comfort came with demands and attitude, I didn’t want it.
I gestured toward my clothing. “I went to bed.”
“And how often do you cry yourself to sleep?”
“I don’t.”
His jaw clenched at my lack of answer.
“It happens when I have a nightmare.”
His face softened and he took my hand, leading me over to the couch. He sat down, holding my hand tightly in his, not giving me much of a chance to do anything but to sit down next to him. I moved to take the seat, when he tugged on my hand, forcing me down onto his lap.
“Jackson.” I squirmed, trying to move.
He wound an arm around my waist, keeping me there. “Stay. Whatever that dream was about has your whole body trembling.”
I sighed and dropped my gaze. Moisture filled my eyes, as the memories of his face in the last few seconds before I woke up came back to haunt me.
“Talk to me.” He gave me a slight shake, pulling me back to the present.
Things couldn’t get any worse.
16
Jackson
Megan’s entire body shook. Not what I imagined when I begged her friends to tell me where she lived. Heath had given up her number easily when she left the bar, but when she stopped texting me, I decided on a different route. Flashing the smile that made girls freak out wherever I went, I asked them for Megan’s address. Told them I wanted to check on her.
Which was the truth.
I hadn’t told them about the kiss we shared out front. It was likely the dumbest thing I’d ever done. In the split second, I forgot about our seven years apart. My whole focus was on me, her, and an argument. It wasn’t hard to miss the longing in her eyes as she reminded me we couldn’t be friends. Before she managed to slip from my grip and get into her car.
Shimmering eyes met mine. “I have nightmares sometimes. Not often, but tonight was different.”
I held her tighter. “How was tonight different?”
She sucked in a shaky breath. “I dreamed about the night I was arrested.”
“Okay. But that’s all over now. You don’t need to worry about that anymore.” I rocked her back and forth.
She shook her head adamantly. “It’s not that. I’ve had that dream more than once. This time you were there.”
I leaned back to gaze into her eyes. “I was there? What was I doing?”
Whatever I’d done in her dream had hurt her. I could feel it. Although I couldn’t imagine doing anything but everything in my power to protect her.
“Walking away, telling me not to ruin your life, too.”
“Fuck,” I whispered. “You know I would’ve never told you that.” Her eyes darted to the floor and I placed my finger under her chin and lifter her gaze to mine. “You know that, right?”
“I guess I do. I’m just not sure I deserve it after all I put you through.”
“That’s all in the past. Right now is all that matters. And I think you had that dream for a reason, so talk to me. What had you so upset you bolted from the bar?”
She stiffened, her spine so straight it looked like it was held up by a rod. “I wasn’t upset.”
“No one leaves tire marks in the parking lot unless they’re trying to get away in a hurry.” I chuckled.
She shifted on my lap, making my dick perk up and take notice. Megan must have noticed it too because she flew out of my lap like her ass was on fire. “I was just ready to go home and get to bed since I have to work in the morning.”
It was my turn to shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “Why do you think we can be friends? Hell, why do you even want to be friends with me?”
“I’ve told you a few different times. We have fun together and I miss that.”
She opened her mouth to say something then promptly shut it, her eyes closing for a second, then opening again. “I miss that, too.” She said it so low I almost didn’t hear her.
“See, now we’re talking.”
She rolled her eyes and laughed as she came to take the seat beside me. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe a little.”
“A little? You’re using stalker behavior to get a friend to hang out with you at night. That sounds absolutely ridiculous.”
“Fine, it’s ridiculous, but just go with it. The ride will be easier if you do.”
Her gaze strayed to the clock on the microwave in the kitchen. “Fine, but can that ride get me back to bed? It’s been a really long night and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep my eyes open.”
“Yes, I think it can. On one condition.”
Her brow quirked. “And what would that be?”
“Hang out with me tomorrow night?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, sass in every line of her stance. “Hang out and do what?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Watch a movie.”
“Only if I get to pick what movie.”
“Deal.” I stood from the couch and held my hand out to her. A spark jolted my skin where we touched as she slid her hand into mine.
“Deal.”
The connection held a bit longer than necessary, but eventually she let go and stepped back. I turned toward the door. “I’ll come by after work tomorrow. What time do you get done?”
She shifted in her seat. “Seven.”
I had a feeling she didn’t really have to work tomorrow and used it as an excuse earlier, which was fine. If she needed the day to regroup, I’d give it to her.
A yawn slipped past her lips.
“Then I’ll meet you here at eight.” I wrapped my hand around the doorknob and pulled open the door slightly. “Text me what movie you want me to bring.”
She nodded.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at eight.” And before she changed her mind, I stepped out into the hall and shut the door behind me.
Seeing the tears in her eyes when she opened the door gutted me. If there was one thing I always hated it was seeing Megan cry. Whether the stress overwhelmed her to the point of tears or she’d gotten bad news, like when her father got laid off from work, I found myself doing everything in my power to help her forget her problems at least for a little while. Sometimes there were things I couldn’t fix, but I would do everything in my power to fix what I could.
I had the same reaction at the bar when she up and left with barely a goodbye. Something spooked her and I didn’t know what. I took the stairs down to the parking lot of her building and thought about what an idiot I’d been. Why had I kissed her? Earlier, I realized that had been her final straw for the night. The thing that made her run faster than she had been before. It didn’t make sense. She knew I didn’t hate her anymore. And what was one kiss in the grand scheme of things?
The locks on my car disengaged. I climbed inside and made a decision. I’d make it all up tomorrow when I returned to her place. Takeout and a movie would be perfect. A plan starting to form in my head. Tomorrow, I’d make her smile.
I typed Megan’s address into the app, setting a delivery time for about an hour after she said she’d be done with work, giving her enough time to shower and relax before the food arrived. Hopefully, she still loved Italian. I ordered from this tiny little place around the corner from my condo. No one had better food than they did.
The car door shut behind me and I set the bottle of red on the passenger seat before getting back on the road on the way to Megan’s place. When
I pulled into the lot, I noticed her car parked in the same spot as the night before. I put the car in park and grabbed the bottle of wine. My stomach fluttered a bit as I started up the stairs to her apartment. It didn’t make sense, so I pushed the feeling aside and made my way to her door.
Her voice floated through the door when I knocked. “Coming.”
The door opened and I stopped in my tracks. Her long hair hung over her shoulder, the color darkened by the wetness of her shower. The leggings she wore drew my attention to her long legs. My eyes roamed down and back up again to the simple T-shirt she wore.
“Jackson?” Her brows pulled together over her eyes.
“Huh? What?” How long had I been staring?
“I asked if you wanted to come in.”
“Shit.” I ran a hand around the back of my neck. “Yes, sorry. My brain wandered off there for a moment.”
A slight smile tilted her lips as she stepped back and gestured for me to come inside. “It’s okay. Happens to me all the time.”
I followed her into the apartment, taking the time to really look around since I hadn’t taken last night. Simple cream-colored walls with white trim had pictures hanging from them. Some I recognized from her dorm room and her parents’ home. Others had to have been taken in the last few years. On one side of the room sat a deep green couch with a glass coffee table in front. The couch was anchored on both sides by overstuffed chairs. Across from the couch a flat screen TV sat perched on top of a small wooden credenza.
“Hungry?” I turned around to see Megan standing in an open plan kitchen, with her hand on the refrigerator door. An island with three stools was the only thing separating the two rooms.
“Yes, but I already ordered dinner.” I glanced at the time on my watch. “Should be here in about thirty minutes.”
“You ordered?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I hope you still like Italian.”
The slight smile from before grew. “I love it.” She reached her hand out to me. “Want me to open that?”
I glanced down at the bottle in my hand. “Sure. I thought it would go well with what I ordered.”
Her lips curved into a smirk. “So sure of what I’d pick.”
If Megan still liked Italian, there was no doubt in my mind that I’d chosen correctly. “Chicken caprese with a Caesar salad and bruschetta.”
She took two glasses down from the cabinet. “I think you chose perfectly.”
“Let’s just say I know you.” I took the bottle opener from her hand and got to work on the bottle of red. The popping of the cork filled the space and I reached forward for one of the glasses. I filled one and handed it to her, then filled the other.
“Thank you.”
“What movie did you pick for tonight?”
“Afraid?”
“Maybe a little, but I told you to pick. Just know next time it’s my pick.”
She walked around the island and into the living room. “Fair enough. Want me to start it now or after the food arrives?”
“Let’s wait until after the food arrives. This way we don’t have to pause it.” I chuckled. “Or should I say pause it as many times as normal.”
“I’m not that bad.”
“Yes, you are. But that’s okay.” I took the seat next to her, taking a sip of my wine. “Are you going to tell me what we’re watching?”
“No, I think I’ll leave it as a surprise.” She lifted her own glass to her lips.
“I see how it is.” Silence filled the space between. A bit uncomfortable like neither of us knew what to say to the other, so I went with the most basic question in the small talk book. “How do you like your job?”
She set her glass on the coffee table and tucked her feet up under herself. A sign that she was settling into the conversation. “I love it. Some days are easier than others.”
“I guess not all days are sprained ankles and stomach aches.”
“Not really. Some days are just harder than others. And you constantly wonder if you did all the right things.” She gave her head a shake and looked back up at me. “Speaking of sprained ankles, how is yours healing?”
I twisted my ankle around for her to see. “Not bad. A little sore if I spend too much time on my feet.”
“I’m sure it will be that way for a while.”
“That’s what the doctor said.” A knock sounded on the door. Megan glanced over at it. “That would be dinner.”
I stood and walked to answer it. The delivery driver handed me the bag and was on his way before I had a chance to close the door. When I turned around, Megan stood at the counter with plates and silverware ready to go.
“Hungry?”
“Maybe a little.”
Something told me most days, Megan didn’t have company for dinner unless she was on base. The least I could do was feed her a good meal. The smile on her face told me I’d come a long way from being an idiot the night before.
17
Megan
The scent of Italian seasonings filled my nose, making my stomach growl again. I glanced at the name on the side of the bag. Wherever it was I planned to order from there again, especially if it tasted as good as it smelled.
Thank God for the food. It gave me the excuse to move my focus from Jackson to the meal in the bag. Each time he spoke, my eyes were drawn to his lips. Lips that had been pressed to mine last night. A mouth I couldn’t even escape in my dreams the night before.
Those dreams helped me make my choice for the movie tonight. No way would I pick a horror where I might end up trying to hide my face in his shirt or a romantic comedy. He already didn’t realize the feelings I still had for him. No need to put a bright, blinking light on them either.
Jackson set the bag on the counter and began removing the takeout containers. Once everything was out, he set the bag to the side and lifted the covers off of everything. If I thought the food smelled good in the bag, it was nothing compared to the smell that filled my apartment once the lids were off.
“Dig in.” He gestured toward the food.
Missed lunch had me reaching for the container to spoon some of the chicken on my plate. Nerves kept me peeking up at Jackson through my lashes. Not as if this was a date. It was two friends watching a movie and having takeout.
Jackson had his plate full of veal parmigiana, if my guess was correct, long before I had everything on mine. Too many choices and my empty stomach wanted everything. I filled my plate and took a seat next to him, picking up the remote on the way.
Without a word, I pointed the remote at the screen and flipped through the choices on Netflix. When the movie started, Jackson stopped with the spoon halfway to his lips.
“You’re not serious.” His eyes were wide.
“I’m very serious.” I pressed play and sat back on the couch.
He set his plate on the table and turned to face me. “You hate movies like this.”
And he was right. I did hate movies like that, but it seemed like the best choice in one of the craziest situations I ever thought I’d find myself in.
He watched me for a second, then slowly sat forward and picked up his plate. I noticed him watching me out of the corner of his eye, but I did my best to ignore him and focus on my food. I lifted the fork to my lips and took the first bite.
“Oh my God, this is delicious.”
Jackson smirked. “I knew you’d like it.”
And just like that, any worries about spending the night with Jackson fled my mind. The only thing I could focus on was eating as quickly as possible, practically shoving the food in my mouth, not caring about the movie or the fact Jackson was watching me.
I pushed the final morsel past my lips and set the plate on the table to me.
“Uh…I’m so full.”
“I can’t imagine why.” Jackson set his own plate down and nodded toward mine. “A little hungry?”
I sighed. “Sorry, I was freaking starving. I didn’t get a break today.”
Jackson
shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. You worked your ass off today, while I sat around on mine watching TV and playing the guitar.”
Jackson had never been the sitting around watching TV type. He had shows he liked, but whenever we weren’t in class, he preferred to be out and about. Always looking for something fun to do.
I hit pause on the movie. “Sounds a little boring for you.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “A little. But it’s not as easy to go places anymore without someone following you around with a camera or wanting your autograph.”
“So, you finally have enough money to do whatever you want but can’t because people are nosy. I’m sorry, that’s got to be difficult.” I couldn’t imagine a life where people were into all of my business simply because of who I was.
“It is, but you get used to it.” Jackson stood with his plate and held out his hand. “I’ll wash them.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll get them tomorrow.”
He quirked a brow. “You worked all day without a break. I can handle the dishes.”
“Thank you.” I handed him the plate and sat back, watching as he took them into the kitchen. If I hadn’t known Jackson as well as I did, I would be having a heart attack at a member of a rock band in my kitchen doing my dishes. Most people would be freaking out at the sight.
But I also knew Jackson had an upbringing where his mother expected him to help around the house and considering his cooking ability, I had no doubt dishes had been his job.
Eventually, he came back into the living room, the freshly washed dishes sitting in the drying rack, with the bottle of red in his hands.
“Top off.”
I held my glass up to him. “Yes, please.”
Jackson refilled both glasses and settled back into the couch. “Let’s watch a movie.” He smirked at me and lifted the glass to his lips.
The movie could have been one I’d wanted to see for as long as I could remember and I still wouldn’t have been able to pay attention to it. Jackson’s arm kept barely brushing against mine as he adjusted his position on the couch.
Play Me (Jaded Ivory Book 5) Page 12