Page 15

Jackson

I 'm staring at the welding kit in my hands, but I might as well be holding a banana for all the good it's doing me. My mind is a million miles away, or more accurately, about two miles down the road at Chloe's house.

My phone buzzes on the workbench, and I freeze. Is it her?

I set down the kit with a clunk and run a hand through my hair, probably leaving a grease streak. Great.

The kiss replays in my mind for the millionth time. The softness of Chloe's lips, the way she leaned into me, how right it felt... until it didn't. Until I pulled away and saw something in her eyes.

Doubt.

It had to be.

I’m an idiot. I let myself get carried away. The last thing Chloe needs is some guy kissing her like he hasn’t kissed a woman in a decade.

I’ve never kissed anyone like that before, though. I lost control, gave into my feelings for her and all I can recall is that I needed her more than I needed my next breath.

I might still.

My phone buzzes again, more insistent this time. I glare at it.

It could be anyone.

I glance around the empty garage, grateful Dad’s busy. I do not need him seeing me like this.

I can still taste the salt on Chloe's lips, feel the warmth of her skin under my hands. But that look in her eyes afterward... Was it regret? Disappointment?

She's my best friend's little sister, I remind myself. I’ve got a duty to Ethan to take care of her. Was I taking care of her when I was practically having sex with her in the parking lot?

"Jackson?" My dad's voice echoes from the front of the garage. "You still working on that Chevy?"

I startle, nearly knocking over my toolbox. "Uh, yeah Dad. Almost done."

I grab the welding kit and try to focus, but my hands are shaking. All I can think about is Chloe, and how I might have just ruined the best thing in my life with one impulsive kiss. I should have taken it slower. Should have…crap, I don’t know. Not kissed her at all?

I don’t like that idea either but kissing her like that when she’s on the rebound was a terrible, terrible idea.

Of course, now I’m being an asshole for ignoring her. If that is her, of course, but most of my friends are lousy texters.

Guilt jabs at my gut. It’s probably her.

"Hey, kiddo!" Dad calls out. "Can you give me a hand with this bolt? It's being stubborn as hell."

"Coming.”

I shove my phone in my pocket. I’m meant to be working. She’ll understand. I’ll text her later and clear the air.

I make my way over to where Dad's working. He's bent over the engine, arms deep in its guts, a sheen of sweat on his brow.

"Hold this wrench steady," he instructs, grunting with effort. "I swear, this thing's rusted tighter than Fort Knox."

I grab the wrench, planting my feet and throwing my weight into it. The physical exertion feels good, gives me something to focus on besides the chaos in my head.

"So," Dad says casually as we work, "you seem pretty distracted today. Everything okay?"

I tense up, nearly losing my grip on the wrench. "Yeah, fine," I mutter. "Just...thinking about stuff."

Dad raises an eyebrow. "Stuff, huh? That's specific."

I force a smile, hoping it doesn't look as fake as it feels. "You know, just... life stuff. Nothing major."

"Uh-huh," Dad says, not sounding convinced. He gives the bolt another twist, and it finally gives way with a satisfying crack. "Well, whatever it is, you know you can talk to me, right?"

"Yeah, Dad," I say, my throat suddenly tight. "I know."

We work in silence for a few minutes, the familiar routine of passing tools and adjusting parts almost meditative. But no matter how hard I try to lose myself in the work, thoughts of Chloe keep bubbling to the surface.

I should talk to her.

Suddenly, my phone vibrates again. I shove the phone deeper into my pocket, burying it under the fabric as if that could silence the turmoil in my head.

"You gonna get that?" Dad asks, glancing up from the engine.

I shake my head, probably too quickly. "Nah, it's nothing important."

Dad gives me a look that says he doesn't buy it, but he doesn't push. Instead, he hands me the welding torch. "Alright then, we need to seal up that fuel tank next. I’ve just got to finish cleaning…” Dad pauses. “Where did I put the degreaser…?” He holds up a hand. You get set up, I’ll be back in a sec. ”

"Yeah," I say, vaguely, trying to think about what I’m going to say to Chloe when I text her and start setting up my welding gear. I pull down the welding mask and flick on the torch, the blue flame springing to life.

As I start welding, my mind drifts back to the beach, to Chloe's lips on mine, soft and hesitant. The smell of her shampoo, the warmth of her skin...

"Jackson, wait!" Dad's voice cuts through my daydream, but it's too late.

A bright flash erupts in front of me, followed by intense heat. Pain sears through my hand. I stumble back, dropping the torch as flames leap from the engine.

"Shit!" Cradling my burned hand against my chest, the acrid smell of burning diesel fills the air, making me cough.

Dad's already in motion and I grab the fire extinguisher from him, directing it at the flames. In seconds, the fire is out, leaving behind a hissing, smoking engine and the bitter taste of failure in my mouth.

"What the hell happened?" I gasp, still reeling from the shock.

“Shit, Jackson, you weren’t meant to start yet.

” Dad's brow is creased. "I hadn't finished cleaning the engine exterior. There must have been residual fuel..." He trails off, his eyes fixed on my injured hand. "We’re lucky the whole shop didn’t go up in flames.” His expression softens as he glances at my hand. “Let me see that."

As he gently examines my burn, I wince as I reveal angry red blisters already forming across my palm and fingers. The pain throbs down my arm.

"This looks bad, son," Dad says, his brow furrowed. "We need to get you to the ER."

"It's fine," I protest weakly, even as another wave of pain shoots up my arm. "Nothing a little ice won't fix."

Dad shakes his head, already reaching for his keys. "No arguments, Jackson. This needs proper medical attention."

I sigh, knowing he’s right.

"All right," I concede, cradling my injured hand close to my chest. "But I'm driving."

Dad snorts, a hint of a smile breaking through his concern. "Not a chance. You just focus on keeping that hand elevated."

The pain in my hand doesn’t get any better as we drive in silence to the hospital.

I can’t believe what an idiot I was. The only injury I’ve ever suffered at the shop was because I dropped a tool on my toe, and that was a year ago.

I know I’m lucky this wasn’t more than a burned hand.

The whole place could have gone up in flames with me and my dad in it.

The ER waiting room buzzes with muted conversations and the occasional ping of a cell phone.

I slump in the hard plastic chair, my injured hand throbbing as Dad talks to someone at the front desk.

The smell of antiseptic burns my nostrils, mixing unpleasantly with the lingering scent of smoke on my clothes.

Dad shifts beside me, clearing his throat. "So, uh, you wanna tell me what's been going on with you lately? It’s not like you to make a mistake like that.”

I wince, and not just from the pain. "It's nothing, Dad.”

"Uh-huh," he says, unconvinced. "So this doesn’t have anything to do with Chloe?"

I snap my gaze up at him. "What? How did you—"

"I'm your father, Jackson. I notice things." He leans back, his voice softening. "Plus, you've been staring at your phone like it might bite you all day."

I let out a long breath, deflating. "We...we kissed. At the beach."

"Ah," Dad nods, a knowing look in his eyes. "And I'm guessing it didn't go as planned?"

"I don't know," I admit, the words tumbling out. "It was amazing, but then she looked so...uncertain.” I grimace. “I’m older than her. I have a responsibility to keep her safe but I think I scared her.”

“Did she consent to the kiss?”

“Yeah, in a manner of speaking.”

“Did she push you away? Make any noises that implied she didn’t want to be kissed?”

I shake my head. Chloe seemed as eager as I did. She even put her hands around my neck and pulled me closer.

“Sounds to me like she wanted to be kissed.”

“I’m worried I’m just some rebound thing,” I admit. “Or that she’s caught up in, well…” I shrug, unable to explain to my dad how I’ve been playing pretend boyfriend and girlfriend with her.

Dad's quiet for a moment, then says, "You know, your mom and I didn't exactly have a fairy tale beginning."

"What do you mean?"

He chuckles. "Well, believe it or not, I was actually her rebound guy."

"No way," I say, momentarily forgetting the pain in my hand. "You said it was love at first sight.”

"For me, maybe," Dad grins. "But she'd just gotten out of a long relationship. Took her a while to come around."

Dad's eyes crinkle at the corners as he recounts his and Mom's rocky start. "Love isn't a straight line, son. It's messy, unpredictable. But usually it’s worth fighting for.”

“I think that’s the most poetic thing you’ve ever said, Dad.”

“Hey, I can be romantic when I want to be.”

Considering Dad has only ever had one girlfriend that I know of, I don’t know if that’s true but I always got the feeling he’s still in love with Mom.

“I think I messed up.”

“By kissing her or by not texting her?”

“Not texting,” I mutter reluctantly.

Dad places a hand on my shoulder. "Jackson, the only way you can truly mess up is by not being honest—with Chloe and with yourself."

“I know.”

And I promised her honesty and so far, I’ve managed to lie to her pretty much every time I’ve been with her.

The trouble is, this isn’t just some crush. This isn’t some summer fling. If I am truly honest with myself, I know what will happen.

I’ll admit that I love her.

I run my uninjured hand over my face. Chloe is going off to college soon. She’s just had all her future plans with Brendan blown out of the water. The timing of this couldn’t be worse.

A nurse calls my name and Dad gives my shoulder a squeeze. “You’ll figure it out. I didn’t raise an idiot.”

I give him a tight smile. “My hand says otherwise.” And how I’m dealing with Chloe isn’t any better.

But Dad’s right. I need to be honest. Maybe not to the extent of telling her I’m insanely in love with her and maybe have been for longer than I’d like to admit, but that this fake stuff needs to end.

It’s only going to cause trouble for us both. J ust because Mom and Dad fell in love on the rebound doesn’t mean Chloe is going to fall for me just because I tell her I love her. She needs time to recover from what Brendan did to her.

And I need to give that to her.