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Jackson

“What are the rules?”

“No rules,” I reply, studying Marlow from the kitchen.

She’s not exactly made herself at home. Though I see potential once her excitement has worn off.

Currently, she’s a kid in a candy shop acting like she’s never been here before.

Maybe it’s because when she has been here prior, we had very specific plans in mind.

It wasn’t just to hang out and watch TV.

Still, it surprises me how content she appears to be when she’s used to five-star hotels.

My place is great. It’s the opposite of hers in almost every way.

Hers was clean, almost to the point of sparse except for the art.

It reminded me of a gallery in some aspects with the white walls.

It was a canvas for her art . . . for her probably as well.

She always loved the spotlight and stood out.

Mine stands in contrast as it wasn’t just a place to lay my head but an investment and one that’s paid off.

I could make a two-million-dollar profit if I sold today based on the current market.

It’s a two bedroom in a swanky part of the city.

I know it’s up to snuff, but it makes me glad that she likes it.

What some would call more masculine with a cognac-colored leather couch and rich-wood floors others might call boring, Clutter doesn’t cover my surfaces, but I have a few things out and about that I’ve collected or put on display like a fishing lure my dad gave me to keep when I caught my first fish at five years old.

We don’t get out to fish much anymore. It’s probably something I should make the effort to do again with him.

A photo of my friends, all six of us, from junior year at NYU when we stayed at Rad’s mom’s house in the Hamptons over spring break. We felt damn fucking fancy since it’s oceanfront and a chef had been hired in.

Oh, shit.

I set my glass on the counter, debating if I should make a run for it and snatch up the hairpin before she sees it.

I didn’t even remember it was there until now.

It must have fallen from her hair when she came over a few months back.

It was a good night—the sex fantastic, as usual, but she stayed since it was the weekend and had a cup of coffee with me in the morning.

Later that day, I found the hairpin with the jeweled M next to the couch where I had her bent over the night before and must have set it down there for some reason.

I’d forgotten about it until now. But if she sees it, she won’t understand because it will look like I’ve put a piece of her on display, and I’ll be called a creep for keeping it.

Distract her. “More pizza?” I cut across the living room as casually as I can and pocket the pin because let’s face it, I am a fucking creep because I have no intention of giving it back. Has she even missed it?

Maybe not.

Maybe I’m making a bigger deal of this than I should? Fortunately, she’s too caught up in listing her bags online to care what I’m doing.

I return to pour another short glass of whiskey. I’m not looking to get drunk, but the amber liquid has taken off the edge and allowed me to sink into the exhaustion instead of fighting it.

Looking up at me from the couch, she almost seems disappointed. “Is anything off-limits?”

“Nothing is off-limits. I have nothing to hide.” I look up and add, “Except that closet.” I point at the one near the second bedroom-slash-office because I like fucking with her.

Marlow’s eyes go wide, intrigue shaping them like flying saucers. “Really? What’s in the closet?” She’s on a mission and makes a beeline for it. Not that I’m going to stop her.

“I wouldn’t open that if I were you— Ah, too late .”

As she stands there staring, her jaw drops just a little.

“I thought I’d find a skeleton or two, but nope,” she says as her eyes find me across the distance that divides us.

“It’s even better. The records aside, you have an impressive number of versions of Monopoly.

I didn’t know you were so into games . .

. board games, that is, and Monopoly specifically. ”

“It was my favorite game growing up.”

“That explains your job. What do you do again?”

I chuckle. “Finance. I started as an intern at my parents' company, and then became a stockbroker. Eventually, I moved into wealth management with the Christiansens.”

Her brows cinch together, and she says, “I knew you dealt with money, but why did I not know the details?”

“Guess you never asked.” Shrugging, I take a pull of whiskey.

“Hmm.” She reaches into the closet and starts touching things. “And that’s what you do now?” When she glances back at me, she asks, “Wealth management? I could have used some advice.”

“Debt abatement, consolidation of assets, bankruptcy consult, your situation isn’t my specialty.” I pull a bottle of wine from the wine fridge and set it on the counter.

She bends to get a closer look inside. Popping back up, she crosses her arms over her chest and shifts her weight onto her right side. “So you advise wealthy people how to get wealthier?”

I pluck the cork out using the corkscrew and grin. “No, I used to.”

Marlow’s eyebrows shoot up. “Then what do you do now?”

“Sit on the other side of the desk.”

It takes a moment, but I see when it dawns in her eyes like a sunrise over the blue ocean. Her arms lower, and she looks around the apartment as if she’s seeing it for the first time. Really seeing it.

“But you still go into work when you’re not saving damsels in distress,” she says so matter-of-factly.

“First, I didn’t save you, Marlow. You’re going to do that. Secondly, I like my work. I invest in companies that are changing the world. Sometimes, people just need someone to believe in them. That’s what I do.”

Satisfaction grows her smile, and she nods. “Thank you for everything you’re doing for me.”

“You don’t need to tell me thanks.”

She finally comes closer. Leaning against the counter with only an inch or two at most between us, she dips her fingertips under my shirt and into the top of my pants. “What if I show you instead?”

“I’d be okay with that.”

I’m whacked on the chest. “ Only okay?”

“What do you want me to say? If you want to thank me with a blow job, I’m not going to stop you.”

“God, Jackson,” she says with a pretty epic eye roll and matching grin, “you’re so crude sometimes.”

Before she escapes, I run my hand around the smooth skin of her neck to the back and hold her there with her sass and snark intact as well as her eyes fixed on mine.

She’s enjoying this more than she’ll let on.

Fucking gorgeous, even in her irritation.

“You can just call me Jackson, no need for the formal God part.” I’m whacked again, causing me to burst out laughing. “So that’s a no on the blow?”

She snatches the glass of wine and then returns to the couch, giving me a little wiggle of that ass as a tease. Settling back down into the leather, she sips after leveling me with a glare. “Is this how it’s going to be around here?”

“You mean awesome and fun?”

Finally giving in, she laughs and tugs her computer to her lap again. “I think I could settle for a few blow jobs for all you’ve done for me.”

“Nah, I don’t want payback. I’m only into it when you are.”

“Good thing I’m into it.” She takes a quick sip, but then her expression widens like she forgot something. “Just not right now, but don’t worry, I got ya covered.” She gives me a wink.

I think this woman is going to be the end of me. In the best of ways.

Although her focus is on setting up the sale of her bags, I don’t want to leave her. I need to, though. Taking off today will only cause me headaches tomorrow if I don’t squeeze a few hours of work in. “Mind if I get some work done in the office?”

“Why would I mind?”

“Don’t want to be a bad host.”

Resting against the arm of the couch, I like how she looks like she’s belonged here all along. I start toward the office, but stop when she says, “Jackson?” and look back.

“Yeah?”

Her voice is suddenly serious, which draws her expression down with it.

“This is the part about me not wanting to be a burden on you or your life. I may not know every detail of what you do, and I actually regret and feel embarrassed about that now. I’m sorry I didn’t pay more attention or ask questions. ”

“You don’t have to apologize. We all live busy lives.

” I lean against the corner of the wall.

“The six of us used to be inseparable, but we’ve grown up.

I still consider them my family, even if we don’t see each other or talk every day.

Like we talked about the other night, it’s just life happening.

We either let it happen to us or we lead the charge. ”

Dipping my head, I rub the back of my neck and peer at her. “I’m proud of you, Marlow.”

“Why?” The question is so genuine I’m almost surprised by it.

I join her on the couch, sitting near her feet.

Taking one, I start rubbing the arch with my thumbs.

“Because you’ve been going through hell and none of us knew the extent of it.

You showed up. Every day. And you’re still participating like you don’t have a mountain of problems weighing you down.

You’re still leading that charge, even if you don’t feel like you’re making much progress.

You are.” I swap feet and continue rubbing.

I see the water glistening in her eyes, and it makes me realize that I don’t think she’s been given the kinds of affirmations that matter, the ones that speak of who she is on the inside. And that’s just fucking sad.

She sets the laptop down and curls herself around to hug me. Her arms are tight as she angles into my lap. “That was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” I hold her just as tight in my arms and kiss the side of her head.

Snug in my lap, she grasps my face and kisses me. “Is this your way of getting me in bed on my first day as your roommate? I don’t usually put out until at least a week into a lease.”

We both start laughing. “The levity feels nice, but I meant what I said.”

“Oh, I know you do.” She giggles. “But I’m thinking you prefer me naked.”

I kiss her and then lean my forehead against hers. “You read me like a book.”

“Like a fairy tale.”

Leaning back, I need to read her eyes. “Thought you didn’t believe in those.”

She sighs with a little swoon at the end. “Because of you, I’m starting to change my mind.”

“My work here is done.”

Sitting up, she says, “Speaking of . . . you go work. I have more bags to list anyway.”

“Are you listing them all tonight?”

“No. I can’t rip off the bandage entirely, not yet.”

Nodding, I see the worry creasing her forehead.

But I’m reminded of what she said minutes earlier.

I don’t like that she thinks I’m saving her, so I don’t add to her stress or take away from what I know she’s capable of doing on her own.

I’d never want that. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

The email thread shifts into excuses. That’s not something I have a high tolerance for, so I reply, reminding the Michigan team that my funding is based on results. Our agreement was six months.

“Why are you working in the dark?”

I look up just as I push send. “Huh?”

The shape of Marlow is a silhouette with the dim light from the living room just reaching the doorway of my home office. She comes in behind me and starts rubbing my shoulders. “You’re tense.”

Taking a deep breath, I rest back and let the massage work in, closing my eyes and slowly exhaling. “Some days are better than others.”

“Is this a bad day?”

I cover one of her hands with mine and spin while pulling her onto my lap. She’s smiling, and even though there’s not much light from the city reaching in, I see the glimmer in her eyes that comes from within. “Today is a good day.”

“I agree.” Tilting her head, she whispers, “We didn’t discuss the living arrangement. Since we donated my bed to the shelter, I have nowhere to sleep?—”

“You have a bed. It’s right there across the hall.”

“That’s yours.”

I take her hand and bring it to my mouth to kiss. The palm. The top. Her wrist. And then our fingers fold together. “It’s ours. As long as you’re here, that’s your room, your bed, your?—”

“Jackson.”

I don’t know why that catches me sideways, but I feel like that’s what I’ve been waiting to hear for so long. “Everything here is yours for the taking.”

She dips down and kisses my cheek. “What are we doing?”

Although I’d like to play dumb, I can’t.

I know what she means, and we had this conversation, which was followed by a trail of reasons we’re not meant to be just yet.

I cup her cheek and run my thumb over her soft skin.

“We’re adjusting the plan based on new information.

That’s all. There’s no pressure to be more than we are. ”

Bringing her legs up closer to her chest, she’s smaller when she’s uncertain and balled up in my lap, making me feel even more protective of her. “What are we?”

“Hey?” I tip her chin up. “We’re Marlow and Jackson. That’s all we need to be.”

It’s not the best answer, but it’s all I can give her, and what she needs to hear. I won’t pressure her because I don’t even know what I want. I didn’t expect her to be living here, but I can’t deny how good it feels to move in a new direction.

What happens happens and all that. “We’ll just play it by ear.” Standing up, I set her on her feet again. “It’s late. You ready for bed?”

“Bed? No. But I’ve been ready for you all day.

” She takes me by the hand and pulls me from the spare room and into the bedroom.

Wrapping her arms around my neck, she slides them down my chest and then even lower.

With a snap, she releases the band of my jeans.

Wearing a devious little grin on her face, Marlow starts to dip down to her knees.

“Now, let’s get back to that thank you . . .”