Page 35

west

T he idea of leaving the stables and living with Jackson didn’t sit well with me, but I understood why I needed to fucking do it. Didn’t make it suck any less.

It took me all of three minutes to shove my shit into my bag but it took me a good hour to say goodbye to the horses—mostly Bailey. I spent a little extra time settling Thunder Jack in his new stall away from the others. He was on edge, which was almost enough to make me say fuck it and stay. This whole trying to do better thing was exhausting and difficult.

The lights were still on at Jackson’s house when I showed up. That made me feel a little better. At least I wasn’t about to wake him the fuck up. The last thing I needed was to piss him off by doing that.

I knocked and nothing. I couldn’t blame him for that. Who answered their door this late at night? Fuck, I should’ve done this earlier or said something to him.

But I kept knocking until the door flew open to Jackson wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. Fuck. Something pulled in my chest at the sight of him like this—something uncomfortable and familiar. Sure, I’d know he was in shape, but it was different seeing the miles of toned muscle right in front of me.

Thankfully, the expression on his face was more than enough to distract me from whatever weird fucking thoughts were trying to form in my head. He looked confused. Then annoyed. I couldn’t blame him. I’d be fucking annoyed if he showed up on my doorstep unannounced.

“Did something happen to the horses?” Jackson demanded.

“What?” I frowned. “No. They’re fine.”

“Don’t tell me something happened with the cows.”

“No, they’re fine.” What the hell did I know about his cows? Besides the fact that he liked cuddling the one. “At least, I think they’re fine. I don’t fucking know.”

“Okay,” he said, slow and pointed. “What do you need? It’s late.”

His annoyance set my already frayed nerves on edge.

“Is that… is your… fuck. ” This shit fucking sucked. It felt like admitting I couldn’t do this without him. Maybe I couldn’t. That stung even more than the fact that he wanted to help. “Is your offer to stay here still available?”

And there it was… the thing that felt like a low moment. I needed his fucking help, and now he knew that I knew that I needed it. And that endless blue stare was nauseating. My pulse threatened to explode from my neck as I waited for him to say something.

Fucking anything.

Shit. Just put me out of my goddamn misery if that was what he planned to do. The waiting was torture.

“Yeah, it is,” he said finally. He nodded down at my small duffel bag. “Is that all you have?”

“I got my truck and my bike, but I don’t think you want those in your fucking house.” He made me fucking grumpy.

“No, I don’t,” Jackson agreed, but that didn’t stop the pitiful look he gave me as he weighed my words. Jesus fucking Christ. I didn’t need his pity on top of his help.

“Don’t start pitying me because I don’t have a house full of shit,” I growled. I wouldn’t know what to do with all that shit anyway. “I’m fine the way I am. ”

“I never said you weren’t.” He stepped aside and held the door open for me. “Tess, stay.”

One step. I could do this .

I grabbed my bag and went inside, my legs heavy like lead. This was a good thing. This was supposed to be a good thing.

Stability. I just needed stability.

This was better than buying a house in a fucking town I wanted out of, and it wasn’t like rental properties were a thing around here. The town was too small for that shit.

“Come on.” Jackson snapped his fingers and Tess hurried after him as he walked across the house. He waved lazily for direction like maybe I wouldn’t remember the house he grew up in. Truthfully, I didn’t remember much. “Kitchen, living room, back door. You can figure it out. Your room is on the first floor this way.”

I welcomed his silence as I followed him through the house. Tess trotted happily between us, stopping at least twice and almost tripping me in the process. I gently nudged her along to keep the process going. I didn’t feel like being fucking stuck in a hallway with Jackson and his dog.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he opened the door. He pointed to the floor, ordering, “Stay.”

So, I stayed. In reality, I knew he wasn’t talking to me, but I didn’t know what to do with myself. I dropped my bag to the ground and just stood in the doorway with Tess at my feet while Jackson flipped on a side lamp. I lost sight of him as he moved around the room.

Yellow .

So much fucking yellow.

The color made my pulse jump anxiously. I couldn’t handle yellow, and it was fucking everywhere. Pillows, bedding, and three stupid sunflower paintings on the wall.

Fucking everywhere.

“I don’t have guests often,” Jackson said, his voice foggy in my ears. I tried to focus on him, but it was hard to do so when the walls were fucking vibrating. Were they vibrating? Or was I imagining it? “Tess listens well. If you let her, she’ll sleep with you, but she’s a bed hog. Snores too.”

Dog bed? Had I taken his dog’s bed? Fuck. That was pathetic .

“I can sleep on the fucking couch if that’s easier,” I said under my breath. I blinked hard, doing whatever I could to focus on how he struggled to put on a new sheet.

“It’s fine. It’s not much, but it’ll do,” he replied. Something painful clawed at my chest, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

I would not panic.

I would not panic.

I would not fucking panic.

Not in front of Jackson.

“There’s extra blankets in the hall closet.” Jackson just kept on talking while I suffered in fucking silence. “The bathroom is just outside the door. I think you’ll have to grab towels from the closet too. Maybe? I don’t fucking know. I don’t use it.”

“It’s fine,” I managed to say. I dug my nails into my palm in a desperate attempt to ground myself. Pain helped. Sometimes.

“I get up at five-thirty, but I usually sleep heavy, so just do what you need to in the morning.” Right, I had to be at the stables before him. Maybe I should’ve stayed there. There was no yellow in the stables. “Help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen. The coffee is on a timer—”

“I said I’m fine,” I snapped. “Just the room is fine.”

I didn’t need his handouts on top of letting me stay with him.

“Okay.” The sigh he let out grated on my nerves. So did the way he ran his hand through his hair like he was trying to find a reason to stay in the room. I needed him to leave the fucking room. “Well, help yourself. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

“I won’t.” The only thing I needed from him was to walk out the fucking door.

“I know,” he said. When he started for the door, I skirted out of the way, shrinking into myself to avoid being touched. I couldn’t handle it. “Good night, West.”

“Night,” I muttered and watched him walk out. When he was gone, I shut the door, leaving me alone in the awful yellow fucking room. I let out a shuddering breath as I stared at the walls. Was the room smaller? The room felt smaller. Too small. “I can do this…”

The sheets and blankets were white with yellow flowers.

Fuck, it was too much. How was I supposed to sleep on that? I couldn’t .

With shaking hands, I tore everything off the bed and shoved them in a corner. It wasn’t far enough, but it was all I could do. All I could fucking manage.

I sank to the ground at the foot of the bed and buried my head in my hands as the familiar demons in my chest tore their way to the surface. Another shattering breath escaped me, hot tears leaking out as I squeezed my eyes shut.

I hated the fucking color yellow so goddamn much.