Page 29

Jackson

E than’s truck crunches over the gravel as it pulls up in front of my house, and I already know it’s him without looking. His engine has this sputter that’s just slightly offbeat—something I’ve been meaning to fix for months now but haven’t gotten around to.

"Jackson." His voice cuts through the lazy hum of the afternoon.

I straighten up from under the hood of the old car I’ve been working on all morning, wiping my hands on a grease-streaked rag that used to be white.

My back protests, stiff from hours bent at awkward angles, but I ignore it.

Ethan climbs out of his truck, slamming the door harder than necessary, and starts toward me.

"Hey," I say, keeping my tone casual and lifting my hands. I’m so not in the mood for another fight with my ex best friend.

I half expect him to lunge at me again but instead he slows his pace and stops a few feet away. “Hey.”

“What’s up?”

Ethan opens his mouth, closes it, then nods toward the car. "You ever going to get that thing running?" He shoves his hands into his pockets, his jaw tight, but there’s no fire in his eyes today.

"Yeah, it’s being stubborn," I say, struggling to figure out how else to respond. "Starting to think this car hates me."

"Wouldn’t blame it," Ethan mutters, but there’s a flicker of a smirk there.

"Guess I deserve that," I admit, tossing the rag onto the workbench by the garage door. I lean against the fender, arms crossed, waiting for the inevitable. Because let’s be real—he didn’t drive all the way here to talk about cars.

He shifts on his feet, glancing at the ground then he looks up, his expression hardening. "We need to talk about Chloe."

And there it is. My chest tightens, but I force myself to hold his gaze. "Okay," I say carefully, feeling like this conversation could explode at any moment.

"Look," he starts, running a hand through his hair, "Chloe explained what happened with this fake boyfriend crap—”

“I was just—”

“And I still don’t like any of it.” His jaw hardens.

“I get it, Ethan. I do but—”

“I don’t like the idea of you messing around with her.”

"Didn’t we already discuss this? I was never messing around with her. You know that.”

"Do I?" Ethan snaps back. "I don’t know, Jackson. This whole thing sounds pretty messy to me.”

"Tell me about it," I mutter under my breath. But Ethan hears, and his glare sharpens.

“I might not have been here, but I know Brendan completely wrecked her and you’re not making things any better.”

His words hit like punches, one after the other, each landing square in my gut. I don’t know what stings more—the implication that I might hurt her or the fact that deep down, I know I already have.

I try to think of some sort of defense to fire back but nothing comes out.

"Chloe isn’t happy. And that’s on you.” His brows draw tight, his gaze boring into me. "You got anything to say for yourself?"

I look down at the concrete driveway beneath us, cracked and stained with years of oil spills, and let out a slow breath.

"Look, you’re right," I say. "About all of it. About the pretend shit being weird, about how confusing this whole thing is. And yeah, about Chloe." Her name catches in my throat, but I push through. "I’ve made a mess of things. I know that."

"None of this was supposed to happen," I continue, shaking my head.

“It was just an accident, a way for me to protect her while you were gone. I want to help. And, man, I swear, I didn’t plan for it to…

to feel real." The last part slips out before I can stop it, and my chest tightens when Ethan’s frown deepens.

"Jackson…" he starts, but I hold up a hand.

"Let me finish," I say, meeting his gaze head-on. "I care about her, Ethan. A lot. And yeah, I messed up—big time. I shouldn’t have rushed into things, especially with a history like mine, and I should have been honest with you from the beginning.” I ease out a long breath. “The truth is, I’ve cared for Chloe for a little while now, and not just as a friend.”

His expression shifts—not softer, exactly, but less like he’s about to deck me. I take that as a sign to keep going.

"Chloe’s been through hell this summer. I know that. And you were right about me adding to that.” I smirk. “We both know I’m lousy at relationships and Chloe has a bright future ahead of her. We both know I’m not the man for her.”

For a few moments, he stares at me, and I meet his gaze, refusing to shy away. Ethan was the one guy I could always turn to, even when I was being a drunken idiot, and I owed him honesty from the beginning.

His stance softens a little and he runs a hand over his face.

“I get it, Jackson. I do. You’re not a bad guy.

Hell, you’re one of the best people I know.

" He hesitates, his eyes flicking to the horizon like he can’t look at me when he says what’s next.

"But Chloe…she’s different. She’s not just anyone. "

"She’s your sister," I say quietly, finishing the thought for him.

"Yeah," Ethan says, exhaling sharply through his nose. "She’s my kid sister, man. And after Mom’s work picked up and Dad sank into his depression, it was mostly me making sure she got fed, got to school on time, didn’t wreck her life hanging out with the wrong crowd.

" He shrugs. “I’m protective. Maybe too much. But I’ve been looking out for her since I could reach the top shelf to grab the cereal she couldn’t. "

My throat tightens as his words sink in. I knew parts of this—I mean, we’ve been friends long enough that I’d picked up on how much responsibility Ethan carried—but hearing it laid out like this? It hits different.

“I know you’re close and I never intended to get between that.” It sounds lame but I don’t know what else to say.

“Chloe’s a people pleaser,” Ethan continues. “She’s got brains, but she can’t help herself. She expects everyone to be as nice as she is, and she can’t help but go out of her way to help anyone. That leaves her vulnerable.”

“I know, Ethan, though I think you need to give her more credit. She’s done some pretty tough shit this summer.”

"She looks up to you, man," Ethan says finally, quieter this time. "Maybe more than you realize. And if things blew up between you two—" He cuts himself off, shaking his head again, his mouth pulling into a frown. "I just don’t want to see her hurt again. That’s all."

I realize Ethan isn’t mad anymore—not really. But the concern radiating off him is almost worse. This isn’t anger—it’s fear. Fear for her. For Chloe. And somehow, that makes me feel lower than any punch he could’ve thrown.

“I never want to see her hurt, either.”

“Good.” He nods once. "You’re great at fixing things, Jackson. Cars, engines, whatever. I just hope you know how to fix this too."

Chloe hasn’t told him we’re over I realize. I don’t know why. Maybe she’s still pissed at him for the way he barreled in. Chances are she’s pissed at me .

“Ethan, I…" I swallow hard. “I ended things," I tell him, forcing the words out even though they taste bitter. "With Chloe. I put a stop to it. For her sake, for yours...because I didn’t want to mess anything up more than I already had."

Ethan’s eyes narrow slightly. "You ended it?"

"Yeah." The word feels heavy in my mouth. "It wasn’t fair to her. Or to you, honestly."

For a second, I think I see something flash across his face but then his brow furrows, and he shifts again, kicking at a loose pebble on the ground.

"Funny," he mutters after a pause, "because Brendan picked her up from a party last night."

My stomach drops. I swallow hard, trying to keep my expression neutral and I have to stop my hands curling into fists.

"Brendan?" I ask, keeping my tone casual—or at least attempting to. "Didn’t realize they were… talking again."

"Neither did I," Ethan crosses his arms now, his expression growing dark.

"But apparently, he swung by to apologize whatever garbage excuse he came up with this time." He shakes his head, disgust clear in his voice. "The guy’s a walking red flag. You’d think she’d have learned the first time, but… " He trails off, frowning deeply.

"Right," I manage to say, though my jaw feels like it’s locked in place. Brendan. Freaking Brendan. Of course he’d find a way to weasel himself back into her life. And, of course, I can’t say any of that out loud without looking like a jealous idiot.

"Honestly, I’d take you over him any day," Ethan adds suddenly, surprising me enough that I blink. His expression softens. "Not saying I love the idea of you and Chloe together, but at least you’re not… him ."

"Gee, thanks," I mutter, the corners of my mouth twitching upward despite myself.

"Just calling it like I see it," he replies with a shrug, but I catch the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Man, maybe we should’ve just teamed up and kicked Brendan’s ass instead of going at each other."

I blink then let out a short laugh before I can stop myself. "Yeah, because that wouldn’t end with both of us in jail for assault or something."

"Please—” Ethan grins “—scrawny dude wouldn’t stand a chance. One wrong move and you’d probably flatten him before I even got a punch in."

"Maybe," I admit, shrugging, but the thought is more satisfying than I want it to be. "Still, it’s not like Chloe doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s too sharp to let him fool her twice." I glance at Ethan, praying he thinks the same.

Chloe’s too smart to fall for Brendan’s bullshit.

She has to be.

Cause I can’t stomach the idea of her getting back together with him.

"Yeah," Ethan mutters, “maybe.” He gives me a sideways glance. "Still think we should’ve gone with the ass-kicking plan.”

"Noted," I reply, grinning despite myself. "You’ll be the first person I call if that ever becomes an option."

Ethan pushes away from the car. “All right. Guess I’ll let you get back to your lousy car.”

"Be worth it one day," I tell him.

"Right, right," Ethan says, chuckling softly as he heads back to his car and opens the door.

He hesitates, though, one hand resting on the frame, the other gripping the keys. His eyes flick back to me then the car then to me again.

"Spit it out, man," I say. Our friendship might not be back on track yet but I can still read him.

He scratches the back of his neck. "Just...for what it’s worth? I’d take you over Brendan any day."

“What do you mean?”

"Don’t make me say it again." Ethan's grin is lopsided, but his tone carries weight. "I’m just saying...if it was between you and that guy ? Not even close."

The guy who wanted to kill me a few days ago is saying he’d be okay with me and Chloe now? Seriously?

"Uh…thanks?" I manage finally.

"Don’t let it go to your head," Ethan mutters, sliding into the driver’s seat.

I watch him back out of the driveway, throwing me a lazy wave before heading down the street then I rub a hand across my face. What the hell does this mean, exactly? Is he giving me permission? Telling me it’s okay to try again?

It isn’t though. The age gap, my history, college, everything still stands between us. It just took Ethan trying to deck me to make me realize that.

Take you over Brendan any day.

Great. Perfect. Except that admission might’ve come too late.