Page 24 of Just One Look
Jackson
“Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Him?”
Pip booms, shooting to his feet.
“I shouldn’t have told you anything,”
I mutter as he charges his hand through his hair and begins pacing.
We’re sitting on the bench under the valley oak tree at the sanctuary, catching up in person for the first time since my return from the hostage weekend.
Sunday lunchtime, a car arrived to pick us up. Not Clancy or Wagner, but a private driver we couldn’t yell at. I had to wait until I got dropped off at Clancy’s for that. Except…it wasn’t so much yelling as it was a lot of shit-eating grinning on his part and me trying to sound madder than I was about the whole thing.
Because how can I actually be mad about what happened? I had a great time. I had sex. I got to know Maverick better. He got to know me better.
And I lied to him.
I stared him right in the eye and agreed to a deal I’m not ready to commit to yet.
“This is bad.”
The outline of Pip’s tiny frame moves frantically from left to right in front of me, the soft ground muffling his rapid footfalls.
“I mean, it’s good that you two finally got it on. But you lied, Jackson.”
I sink lower into the bench.
“I know,” I mutter.
“The cornerstone of all good relationships is honesty.”
I kick a patch of brown dirt beneath my boots.
“I know. Can you sit down? You’re making me dizzy.”
“Sorry.”
He stops walking and drops down next to me.
“I don’t get it, though. You just had an incredible weekend together. He gave you an opening to be honest. You could have told him.”
“Pip, stop! I know all of this.”
“Then why didn’t you tell him?”
“Because it’s a one and done,”
I spit out, the lie leaving a bitter aftertaste in my mouth, worse than the aftermath of Clancy’s ill-fated attempt at trying his hand at sushi.
“We had one nice weekend together. I don’t owe him anything.”
The last part could be true. The first part is a gross underplay.
And Pip knows it.
“I’m not an idiot, so please don’t treat me like one. You and Maverick have had a thing since the moment he showed up in your life.”
I turn to him, his features smudging into a blur as I try not to get more worked up about this than I already am. “A thing?”
“Yes. A thing. An energy. A vibe. You know, like how in the movies when they go in for a close-up and the music changes, and you can just tell there’s an attraction between whoever it is. You guys have that in real life.”
“We do not,”
I protest weakly.
“Why are you so anti this? You’re your own worst enemy sometimes. You realize that, don’t you?”
I turn away and slam my hand against the bench. “Fuck.”
“What is it? What’s going on?”
Pip pleads.
“Talk to me, Jackson.”
I take a second to calm my anger. Okay, if Pip doesn’t want bullshit, then I’m going to give him the bullshit-free truth.
“I had a really good time with him.”
“Just for the record, most people wouldn’t look and sound so tortured saying that. And if you had such a good time with him, isn’t that all the more reason to tell him about your condition?”
I drop my hands into my lap and sigh.
“I know I should have told him. I felt like an absolute monster, staring at him while we’re lying in bed after sharing an amazing night, and lying to his face. I didn’t want to do it, but…I’m being selfish.”
“Selfish?”
I release a long, steady breath and sag into the bench some more until I become practically one with it.
“I am downplaying the weekend. It was one of the best times I’ve ever had. I was forced to see the real him, not the asshole I was desperately trying to make him out to be. We opened up. We talked. We laughed. We ate so much junk food.”
“Don’t forget the mind-blowing sex.”
“Oh. I won’t. Don’t you worry about that.”
The blowjob in the rain was wild and fun, but the way he fucked me in the cottage after running me a bath to warm me up is something I won’t forget for as long as I live.
At first, I was uncomfortable. The lighting in the room was too dark, and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to see what we were doing. That I’d trip or fall over or bump into something and struggle to explain why I did.
But thankfully, he didn’t go all crazy and experimental with sex positions. We stayed in just the one, and it was…perfect. What I could make out of his face as he came will be imprinted in my mind until the day I leave this earth.
And the way his giant cock filled me up? I’ve never felt anything better in my life.
Full.
Complete.
Happy.
All because of him.
“Feel free to fill in your sexless bestie on all the juicy details anytime you like,”
Pip prods.
I smile and shake my head.
“That won’t be happening.”
“I know, but it was worth a shot.”
A woodpecker drills into the oak tree above us, the sound distracting me from my guilt for a few seconds.
“I hate lying.”
“I know you do. That’s why I’m surprised you did it.”
“I wanted to tell him.”
“So why didn’t you? And don’t give me that tired excuse about it being a one-and-done weekend. Save that for all your stupid friends.”
I smile sadly. Pip is the only friend I have. I don’t deserve him, and I sure as shit don’t deserve Maverick either. I’ve done nothing but treat him badly, and now I’m topping it off with being dishonest when he gave me the best opening to tell him about my condition.
I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath.
“I didn’t tell him because I wanted to let myself have the moment. My one last chance of having a good time before my whole world changes forever. I wanted to enjoy the experience of finally meeting a cool, interesting, smart guy. Someone who I don’t have to censor myself around in any way.”
“Or even be nice to, frankly.”
I chuckle.
“Shut up. Maverick makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. Ever. I was having fun. I never have fun.”
“I can attest to that. In the three years I’ve known you, your whole life has been about horses and family. And me.”
“You are family.”
“Thanks. But that’s been it. No guy has remotely piqued your interest like Maverick has, and there’s definitely been no one you have fun with.”
“Then why do I sometimes want to kill him?”
Pip shrugs.
“Because you’re psychologically messed up like we all are, and that’s part of the attraction, I’m guessing?”
“Yeah. I think it might be.”
I kick some dirt.
“Too bad that nothing more can happen.”
“Why not?”
he probes.
“You know perfectly well why not.”
“Nope. I’m going to need you to spell it out for me.”
“Pip,” I growl.
“Don’t Pip me. If you’re going to deny yourself the best thing to come along in your life since…well, me, I want to hear you say it.”
I swivel to face him.
“Because I’m going to be blind. Fully blind. In a matter of months. Maybe even weeks. That’s why.”
There.
That should shut him up.
It’s all fun and games to sit here and fantasize about what could be until reality comes along and slaps you in the face.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snaps.
“Excuse me?”
“Did you really just say that?”
I reply with a cautious “Yes,”
sensing he’s going somewhere with this. Somewhere I’m probably not going to like.
“That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say. And believe me, you’ve said plenty of dumb stuff.”
His deep voice trembles with rage.
“Whoa. Why are you so mad?”
“Because you’re basically saying that anyone with a condition or disability doesn’t deserve love.”
“No I’m not,”
I fire back.
“I’m only talking about myself. Not anyone else.”
“Okay. If that’s the case, then why are you the one and only exception? Why are other people with medical conditions worthy of love, but not you?”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“Why not?”
“Because…”
I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath so I don’t lose my temper with my bestie. Surprisingly, I’m not actually that angry. I’m more sad than anything else.
“Because when Maverick met me, I was fine. And in a short while from now, I won’t be. I’ll be different. Broken.”
“You’re wrong,”
Pip says, his tone mellowing as well.
“Different, yes, Broken, no.”
“Come on now. Imagine you turn up to a Ferrari dealership, throw down half a mill, but when you pop the hood, it’s a Hyundai. No one wants to purchase a lemon.”
I stab my chest.
“I’m the Hyundai.”
Pip clenches his fists in front of his body, shaking them in frustration.
“I hate hearing you talk about yourself like that.”
I fold my arms with quiet resolve.
“I’m sorry, but that’s how I feel.”
He doesn’t say anything right away.
“Given everything that you are going through, I’m not going to sit here and tell you what you should or shouldn’t be feeling. So, I fully respect what you just said. But let me put it this way. Let’s say, hypothetically, you and Maverick start dating. And let’s say that at some point in the future, when you’re settled into the relationship and are deeply in love and things are going great, he gets sick. Or has a serious car accident. Or receives a cancer diagnosis. What would you do? Would you leave him? Say, ‘Sorry, honey. You weren’t like this when we met. Gotta bounce.’ Or would you stay with him because you know that life is full of unexpected ups and downs and that it’s not about what you go through, it’s who you go through it with? That if you love someone, you stay with them through it all. No matter how hard things may get.”
I cover my face with my hands, like I’m physically trying to prevent the truth, the rightness, of what he’s saying from getting through to me.
He’s made his point, and he’s made it well.
But my mind is made up.
I’m not telling Maverick because we aren’t in a relationship and deeply in love. Yes, I have feelings for him, and a part of me wishes we could have something more, but it’s just not going to happen.
We had one fun weekend together. That’s all it can ever be.
“You can’t see me,”
I say, slipping into Maverick’s office.
He stops typing, shuts his laptop lid partway, and meets my eyes across the room.
“What are you doing?”
“Reinstating my coffee and note ritual,”
I reply, lifting my hands so he sees the coffee mug and Post-it note I’m carrying, hoping like hell it doesn’t sound like the world’s most pathetic excuse to be around him for a moment…which it totally is.
It’s Friday.
Five days since our weekend together.
For four of them, Maverick has been working from home. He texted Sunday night, letting me know that Wagner and Sammy had come down with strep throat. Thankfully, he doesn’t share a house with them, so he’s fine. But since it is contagious and he was determined to stay close by to help with whatever they needed, he didn’t want to risk getting anyone at the center sick.
Like I wasn’t already aware he was the world’s best brother and uncle, he goes ahead and does something as nice as putting his life on hold to take care of his family.
“Just dropping these off,”
I say, focusing on reaching his desk without spilling any coffee.
The good news is that my headaches are almost entirely gone. The bad news is the loss of my central vision is accelerating. Unless I’m right up close to something, everything’s just a blur.
I can tell Maverick is at his desk and that he’s wearing a dark suit. Navy, maybe? But his face is so out of focus, I can’t make out any details.
“I won’t bother you,”
I say with a smirk once I’ve securely placed the mug on his desk.
“Feel free to return to whatever very important email you were sending.”
I hear him chuckle at my jab.
“Hope you remembered my order.”
“Sure did. Half-and-half with one sugar.”
“I’m impressed. But wait, aren’t you doing this a little later than you used to?”
“Clomper’s hoof abscess flared up, needed some extra cleaning and poulticing. Just pretend I’m not here.”
He rolls his chair backward, away from his desk. I feel his eyes on me.
“So I’m just a crazy person talking to an imaginary person?”
“Correct.”
“Come ’ere.”
“Who are you talking to? I’m not here, remember, crazy man?”
The casters of his chair squeak softly as he remains seated and rolls over to me, grabs my wrists, and tugs me down until I fall into his lap, straddling him.
He peers up at me, all seductive and coy, and I smile as the haze lifts and his dark hair and blue eyes come into view. A beam of sunlight chooses this exact moment to shine through the massive window behind his desk, illuminating the curly tips of his lashes. Even the universe is conspiring against me to make this man shine. What hope do I have?
“Hi.”
I offer the world’s coolest “hi” back.
“Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome.”
“It’s good to see you.”
“It’s…okay to see you.”
He runs his hands up and down my back.
“Did you miss me?”
“You were gone?”
He laughs.
“Fuck off.”
“How are Wagner and Sammy feeling?”
“Sammy’s almost back to his usual boisterous self. Wagner, being old, is taking longer to recover.”
“Glad they’re feeling better.”
“So am I. Means I get to come back here.”
“There’s a downside to everything.”
“Hm.”
Maverick spreads his legs apart, and since I’m perched on them, my legs go with him.
“I wouldn’t exactly call this a downside. Let me read the note.”
He lifts his hand to snag it from me, but I snatch it away at the last minute. I grin, thinking I’ve won, until his hands land firmly on the globes of my ass, and he pulls my cheeks apart. A thrill zips through my body, and my face burns. Maverick has a unique way of being able to alternate between being sweet and filthy, and it really turns me on.
“My hands seem to be full. Show me what you wrote,”
he says, firming up his grip on my ass.
My heart roars in my ears as I slowly lift the note to his face.
“I may have missed you…a little,”
he reads out, his sapphire eyes glimmering, two rows of perfectly white teeth on full display.
“Aw, Jaxi.”
“Don’t call me that.”
I mean to poke him in the chest, but for some reason, my palm lands flat against his pec and then sort of just stays there, content to absorb the warmth of his skin through the material of his designer shirt.
“I don’t like it.”
“All right. I won’t call you that again. Thank you for being honest with me.”
I try to brush off the way he emphasizes the word “honest,”
like he’s reminding me of our deal. As if I could forget. No matter how hard I try, my conscience keeps nagging away at my wrongdoing—the voice in my head awfully similar to Pip’s rich baritone—urging me to tell Maverick the truth.
I want to.
And I will.
I’ll have to at some stage. He’s my boss. My loss of vision directly affects my ability to do my job. But I’m currently straddling Maverick while his hands are planted on my ass cheeks. We’re not exactly interacting as boss and employee, but as…I don’t know what exactly. But it’s not that.
And in this context, I’m not ready to say anything yet.
Maverick slides his hands along my lower back, tracing them along my spine, before swooping under my arms and bringing them to my face.
“God, you’re beautiful,”
he says, his hands resting softly on my face.
“Can’t remember if I told you that on the weekend.”
“You did,”
I whisper. Not only with words but with the way he made me feel. I take a breath. “You’re…”
Mentally, I’m seesawing between making a crack and not holding back. I go with my heart.
“Beautiful, too.”
His face lights up, like I’ve made his freaking day. His fingers thread through my hair as he gently pulls me down.
Our lips meet.
“Is this okay?”
he murmurs.
“I’m sure HR would have thoughts.”
He lets out a husky snicker. “I am HR.”
“Then you tell me. Is this okay?”
“It is by me. But I remember what you said. About the weekend being a one-time thing. I want to respect your boundaries.”
There’s no sarcastic emphasis when he says boundaries, only what sounds like a genuine respect for my limits.
“It’s fine by me, too,”
I whisper, cradling his jaw in my hands.
“Just don’t go getting any ideas, okay?”
His stare turns intense, the muscle in his jaw popping like it does whenever I piss him off.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
And then he draws me in and kisses me.
Passionately.
Forcefully.
And completely unlike a guy who is cool with this being nothing more than a brief workplace fling.
Like I said to Pip, the only sure thing is that whatever Maverick and I have is bound to end soon. So what’s the harm in enjoying it while it lasts? My last hurrah before my life changes completely.
I know it’s selfish, and I know it’s wrong, but I just want things to be normal between Maverick and me for as long as possible.
“I should get back to the horses,”
I say, easing myself out of the kiss.
“What if I don’t want to let you go?”
The deeper layer of his question hits me straight in the heart.
“I…”
I don’t know how to respond to that.
“You’re dirty.”
My brow scrunches in confusion.
“Excuse me?”
“Your clothes. They’re filthy.”
“Well, yeah. Kind of comes with the territory, Mr. Suit Man. Not all of us sit around all day in an air-conditioned offi?—”
“I can’t let you go out there looking like that.”
“What?”
“Workplace safety. I’m going to have to get you cleaned up.”
A smile blooms on his lips as he tips his head toward the bathroom door.
“Luckily, I have the place and the means to do just that.”
“Oh, really.”
I run my hands through his hair when I finally get it.
“What did you have in mind?”
He sits up, his breath hot against my ear.
“I’m going to get you nice and clean,”
he rumbles.
“And then I’m going to fuck you so hard my load will be leaking out of you all day.”
If he weren’t holding me in place on his lap, I’d be face-planting on the floor right now.
This could be a monumentally bad idea.
Then again, so was bringing him a coffee.
So was staying on his lap.
So was kissing him.
I’m past the point of doing the logical thing, so if I’m going to throw caution to the wind, why not go all in?
I run my finger down his jawline.
“What the fuck are you waiting for, Maverick? A permission slip?”
I scooch off his lap, push myself up, and extend my arm. He rolls his chair back and leaps to his feet. Instead of taking my hand, he scoops down and lifts me up. An undignified oomph tumbles out of my mouth as he adjusts how he’s holding me and carries me bridal-style toward the bathroom.
“You’ve got a filthy mouth, Jackson,”
he grunts.
“Good thing I know exactly what to do with it.”