Page 6

JACKSON

“Well hey now, that’s not what I was expecting to happen when you saw me.” Rosie looks adorable in her oversized sweatshirt and messy bun, but I’m more focused on her red face as tears stream down her cheeks.

I gently step inside and place the flowers on the console table. “I’m coming in, is that okay?”

She nods behind the hands she’s clasped over her eyes.

I gently rest my hands on her elbows. “Hey, hey. What’s going on?”

Right, that didn’t help. It just makes her cry harder.

“Okay, let’s go sit down, hmm?” I try to hide the panic in my voice as we stumble across to a small kitchen and I tug one of the mismatched chairs free from the table, guiding her to sit on it.

“How about some water? Would you like some water? Let’s get you some water.” What am I doing? I’ve obviously triggered this and I’m most likely making it worse.

But there’s no way in hell I can leave this girl sitting at her kitchen table, sobbing. I rummage through her cupboards until I find drinking glasses, filling one up at the faucet. Do English people drink from the faucet?

I place it gently down next to her and pull another chair free. I sit side on, my thighs bracketing hers.

“Come on, pretty girl, you’re scaring me here.” I gently move some of her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

I tug on her wrists until she shows me those big blue eyes. A little bloodshot with some tears sticking to her lashes, but still gorgeous.

“What are you doing here?” she croaks.

I lean back, the chair creaking beneath me. “Okay, well.” I run my hand across my beard. “I’m shooting in London.”

“You’re working here?” she asks, swiping at her cheeks. “For how long?”

“Uh, six months. Give or take.”

Her eyes widen. “Six months. In London?”

I nod, biting back a grin. “Yep. Funny how that worked out.”

Her big eyes stare up at me for a few seconds before she stands up.

I stay seated, settling further into the wooden chair. I watch as she paces the small room. An impressive feat considering she only can take two steps before she needs to turn around again.

She stops suddenly and puts her hands on her hips, eyes narrow. “How did you know I lived here?”

I tug at my beard again. There’s just no way of saying this without it being weird. “I asked my assistant to find your address.”

She gapes at me. “What? How is that even possible?”

“He’s a good assistant.” I shrug, awkwardly resting my hands on my thighs. “It’s weird I know, but I didn’t have another option. I didn’t have your number and I couldn’t find you online?—”

“You looked me up?”

“Of course I did. I’ve been dying to talk to you since the wedding. I’m just sorry it took me so long.”

“Why?” she asks.

“Huh?”

“Why did you want to talk to me?”

I blow out a breath. “Well hell, I don’t know. I didn’t really have a speech prepared or anything, but I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

She leans back on the kitchen counter, her hands placed on her stomach.

“Wow, uhm,” she stumbles. “Okay.” Her gaze goes unfocused, like she’s thinking really hard.

“Are you okay?”

“Hmm?” She looks up distractedly, resting her hands on the counter behind her. “Yeah I’m—I’m good.” Her voice rises an octave. She remains by the counter, clutching the marble with her hands and staring into space.

I stand and approach her slowly. “I think this has gone a little bit off the rails here. Shall we try this again?”

She blinks at me confused.

I wink and step around the table, picking up the flowers I left on the side. “Take two!” I throw over my shoulder as I step into the hallway.

I let the door close behind me and then knock a merry tune on the wood.

Rosie’s adorably confused face greets me as she pulls the door back open.

I thrust the flowers towards her. “Hi Rosie, I’m so sorry to just barge in like this, I brought these for you.”

I can see a smile pull at her lips and I know I’ve somehow fixed it. She takes the flowers out of my hands and brings them to her nose. “Hi Jackson, this is a surprise,” she drawls, playing along.

I place my hands on either side of the door frame and lean in conspiratorially. “A good surprise?”

She hides that gorgeous smile behind the flowers as she says, “We’ll see.”

We smile at each other for a few moments and I know I’ll do anything to make this girl smile after her tears.

“Come in,” she says softly, opening the door further.

I step inside, not once taking my eyes hers.

“I’ll just get a vase for these.”

I love how she says that. V-ah-ss.

“I love your place,” I say as I allow myself to take a look around. The kitchen is small but full of color, glasses hanging from a rack over the fridge and a large orange pot sitting on the stove top.

“Thanks,” she throws over her shoulder at the sink. “How ever did you find it?”

I grin impishly at her as I come to lean beside her. “I have my ways.”

She tries to hide her smile, but I catch it.

“You have any roommates?”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s just me.” She seems to stumble over that last word but quickly recovers, yanking open a drawer with a clatter.

She lays out my flowers on the table and starts cutting off the ends with a pair of scissors.

Did I even plan what I wanted to say to her when I saw her? Or was I just hoping that she’d jump into my arms as soon as I walked through the door?

“I haven’t stopped thinking about the wedding,” my mouth says before my brain can catch up .

She jumps with a gasp. “Shit,” she hisses, holding her hand. “Ow.”

Concerned, I step forward and gently tug her hand free. “Let me see.” I rotate her hand, a small bead of blood visible on the tip of her index. Without thinking I raise her finger to my lips and kiss away the pain.

Her finger is warm under my lips, reminding me of the last time I kissed her skin. She blinks up at me until I finally let go, the taste of her blood in my mouth singing to me like I’m a vampire and she’s my muse.

She yanks her hand away and rushes to the sink. Turning the faucet on she says quietly, “I’m such a mess.”

“You’re not a mess, pretty girl. I’m just a very overwhelming person.”

She laughs under her breath.

“Bandaid?” I ask.

“Bottom drawer.” She gestures with her chin.

I rummage around until I find a little box of bandaids, slipping one out and spinning her towards me. Gently, I wrap it around her finger, and I can’t help pressing a final kiss to her wound. When I look up, we’re much closer than anticipated. I can almost count her eyelashes.

“Jackson,” she whispers.

“I should probably go,” I say reluctantly. I’ve barged into this woman’s home, made her cry, wounded her with my flowers and essentially sucked her blood. Overwhelming indeed.

“Oh,” she says, taking a step back and not looking at me. “Yeah okay.”

“Can I get your number, pretty girl?”

Her head snaps up. “Don’t call me that,” she says reflexively as if I haven’t said it multiple times today .

I bite my lip. “Can I get your number, Rosie? Please?” I add on the end.

She nods. “Yeah, yes. That’s a good idea.” She says it formally, like this is suddenly a business transaction. “One second.”

Rosie darts through the door I presume leads to a living room and returns a moment later with her phone. “Put yours in here too so I have it.”

I dutifully take her phone and send myself a text before saving my number in her contacts.

“Can I call you?” I ask as I hand it back.

She tucks it in the pocket of her sweatshirt. “Yeah, we should meet up. To, uh, to talk.”

I nod my head. “Talk. I’d like that.”

She doesn’t say anything else, instead wraps her hand around her bandaged finger. “Okay, well.”

“Yeah, I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” I lift my hands up.

She follows me to the door. I turn just before she closes it. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, pretty girl.” I wink as she nods her head and whispers a quiet, “Bye.”

I can’t help but laugh to myself as I head down her hallway. Not how I expected that to go but I still find myself skipping a few of the creaky stairs on my way out.