Page 66

Marlow

Things are so normal here at Rad and Tealey’s. I almost forget my world is falling apart.

Almost.

I don’t forget.

I can’t.

It’s impossible with Jackson not here. Not only has he broken tradition with his absence but my heart’s not feeling so great either after our confrontation.

Cammie’s just passed out bowls of popcorn to everyone, and by the swearing coming from the living room, Rad and Cade aren’t happy about the last touchdown. I stare out the window, mindlessly shoving the popcorn in my mouth, wondering what Jackson’s doing.

Is he still mad? He’s never been one to easily anger. He’s usually pretty laid-back in his approach to life. Not like me, who thrives off a high-strung life. My strings are so taut that he played my body like a fiddle, but a violin feels more fitting.

I’m still at a loss as to why he’s always talking about some invisible barrier around me. I feel good around him, not like I’m hiding anything, much less on guard protecting my heart. So it’s simply not true.

I let him in, as in as we agreed to be, so I’m still not seeing the problem.

The problem I do see, though, is that we left things sort of in the air.

Though that might be putting a positive spin on his response that he won’t wait.

Was that retaliation for me saying don’t, or is that how he really feels?

Sex seems to be the purest part of our relationship. Not that we lie. No, we’re probably too honest sometimes. We just have a way of saying whatever’s on our minds. There’s no filter between us. Right now, too many feelings are involved.

I hate fighting with him.

I hate this ache in my chest.

I hate that he might be hurting as well.

I hate it if he’s not thought twice about me since I left.

I hate everything when things aren’t right with Jackson.

Sitting down in a chair across from me at the dining table, which is covered in snacks between us, Cammie stares at me.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“Clearly, there’s something.” I drop my head to the side and stare right back at her, mad that she’s interrupting my wallowing.

Though I also can’t help noticing her brown hair has gotten so long that the tips dip below the table when she leans forward to rest her chin in her hand.

I’m tempted to ask her if she’s using a new shampoo, but honestly, I lack the energy to think about anything other than the fight I had with Jackson earlier.

What’s wrong with me?

Beauty products are my jam, but even those don’t hold my interest at the moment.

She says, “Why do you look like you lost your puppy?”

“Even if I am mad at him, I wouldn’t call Jackson a dog.” Sighing, I sound pathetic even to my ears. I miss the safety he provided me. Rad gets up and walks to the front door, momentarily distracting me. I welcome the diversion.

Cammie laughs lightly. “I know what you mean.” She leans forward. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Tealey joins us at the table and tops off my glass. “What are we talking about?”

“Jackson,” Cammie replies.

“Nothing,” I reply at the same time.

Our eyes dart from one to the other before Tealey says, “ Okaaaaay .”

I felt like I was keeping things casual by drinking wine over here, but at this rate of awkward, I might need something stronger. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

Jackson bursts through the front door as if he’s been cued, causing us all to jump. Tealey grabs the sweatshirt she’s wearing over her heart. “Jackson, you scared me.” I can’t say I fare much better.

“What the hell, man?” Cade gripes. “You gave me a fucking heart attack.”

Rad’s laughing and tossing popcorn in his mouth while Cammie angles sideways, reaching for her bowl like the show’s about to begin. I worry it is as well.

Jackson’s eyes land on me, and he says, “You forgot the queso.”

“Did you just think of that comeback?” I snark as I stand, crossing my arms over my chest. I don’t know what kind of stance I’m taking, but it feels like I need to do it standing since he is.

“We’re going to sort this shit out, Marlow. Now.” When I continue to glare at him, he adds, “Please.”

“Fine,” I say under my breath. “Only because you said please.” I move around the table and grab my purse, pulling the strap over my head.

My lips are feeling parched. If Jackson and I are going to have this out, I need my lip gloss, and then I head toward the door.

Besides the nicety of the please he offered me, we’ll have an audience if we stay here, and I’d rather not be their entertainment.

He tosses that bag of chips and queso to Rad just as I pass.

To Rad, I mutter, “Traitor.”

With the bag in his hand, Rad asks, “What did I do?”

After pointing two fingers at my eyes, I then redirect them to his. “I see what side you’re on. Unlocking the door for your best friend. Not very subtle.”

Chuckling, he moves to lean against a barstool.

“It wouldn’t have been as fun if the door was locked.

” I roll my eyes when I hear them high-fiving behind me.

They’re mere boys when together and bring out the worst in each other.

Rad’s a Wellington, for Pete’s sake. His family moniker carries prestige with it. He should act like it.

With all eyes on us, I pick up my pace and walk into the hallway. Behind me, I hear Rad ask, “Why are the chips crushed?”

I can’t help but giggle. Those chips and queso have been to hell and back between Jackson and me.

Digging into my purse, I find the gloss and lather it across my lips before I’ve crossed the threshold of the door.

Dropping it safely into my bag, I move about ten feet away from the door and turn back with my arms crossed over my chest again.

Jackson is closing the door when he looks up at me, and asks, “Would you like to start?”

“No. You go right ahead. After making that kind of entrance, I figure you must have plenty to get off your chest.”

He comes closer, and I already know I’m trapped unless I start down the stairs.

I’m not scared of him, though, not physically at least. He does have a knack for messing with my emotions, but he hasn’t ever purposely wielded that power.

That’s all on me and how I react to him. Right now is a prime example.

I’m utterly annoyed that I find him stupidly handsome, the kind of attractive that has me tempted to ask him, “Your place or mine?” The gentle wave of his hair holds as if he didn’t just barge through a door.

He was wearing a coat inside, but now it’s just him, me, and that T-shirt that clings to him in all the right muscley places.

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans and sighs before shaking his head gently. “I don’t know what happened back at mine, but I didn’t like it.”

Tossing him a bone, I whisper, “Me either.”

Coming closer, he says, “Whatever you think, this hasn’t been about sex for me in months. Feelings have been mixed in for a long time now, but I’m just the only one to broach the subject.”

Why does he always have to be so genuine?

The man wears his heart on his sleeve for me, and something about that is so intrinsically endearing.

But he’s right. “We’re not just sex, Jackson.

You aren’t just an easy lay, you know , to me.

The connection we share is physical, but that doesn’t mean it ends there.

” I lower my arms and suck in a breath to build the strength I need.

“You matter to me. I care too much about you to cross any more lines at this time.”

He doesn’t rush to convince me, and his eyes aren’t filled with responses I can’t unfold. He’s listening, not trying to change my mind.

I’m not sure what to make of that. Do I want him to beg? No. But I don’t want to lose him either, so I say, “I need to make a confession.”

“Okay.” He leans against the wall as I lean against the railing.

“I can’t do real relationships, but I hate being alone all the time.” I drop my gaze and toe the wood floor. “I’m not good at them,” I say, quirking an eyebrow as I peer up at him, “and you might be worse.”

He doesn’t do it often, but that earned me an eye roll. “Geez, thanks.”

“I’m sorry,” I reply through another sigh. “You know what I mean. We’re terrible.”

“No apology needed. You’re not wrong.”

“Not everyone is built to couple up forever. I thought we had an understanding that feelings wouldn’t mess with what we have.”

“I did, too.”

“Please don’t be mad at me. I have mountains of problems to deal with already and then add in the apartment slipping through my fingers and my career languishing in my job at the gallery.

” I move closer, struggling to stay away from him.

“This between us never felt like anything I couldn’t handle until yesterday. ”

“What changed?”

It pisses me off that tears fill the corners of my eyes again.

Am I making a mistake by not just giving in?

Jackson would be so easy to fall for . .

. Maybe life would feel less heavy if I had a partner to help me deal with it.

But in what world does it make sense to drag someone else into this mess?

As much as he wants to, Jackson can’t solve my problems.

I reach up and caress his cheek, and then I even take it a step further and cuddle against him. His strong arms come around me, and he kisses the top of my head. “Is it timing or . . .” he whispers against my head. “Because I’ll wait if it’s?—”

“It would be so easy to get lost in us for longer than a night.” Wrapping my arms around his middle, I hold him as close as I can, already knowing this is the end. At least for the time being. “That’s what scares me. I’ve been there, done that, and it never ends well.”