Page 7

Jackson

T he hum of the engine fills my ears as I navigate the familiar streets of Elmwood Glen, the warm sun filtering through the truck windows.

Chloe sits beside me, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sundress.

The air between us feels thick with unspoken words, the weight of our encounter with Brendan still lingering.

I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have said a damned thing. Now I’ve made things super weird.

I glance over at Chloe. She stares out of the window, totally silent. I want to say something, but I don’t know what. I was always better at actions than words.

“Uh, Jackson…?” Chloe's voice breaks the silence, soft and hesitant. “Thanks.” Her throat bobs. “For pretending to be my boyfriend back there, I mean. It made me feel safer, having you by my side.”

Her words catch me off guard. Boyfriend. Not once in all my years of knowing Chloe did I ever think I could be her boyfriend.

I like the sound of it far too much.

“You know I've always got your back.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips, and for a moment, the tension in the car dissipates. “I know. You're a good friend, Jackson. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

Friend. The word echoes in my mind. I think I preferred boyfriend.

I force a grin. “Hey, what are fake boyfriends for, right?”

Chloe laughs. “Right. The best fake boyfriend a girl could ask for.”

The tension eases from the air, but it’s still thick in my chest. I can't help but steal glances at Chloe. I don’t know how she’s kept it together.

I’ve never really done long-term relationships, but if I’d discovered a girlfriend of two years was cheating on me, I don’t know that I’d be so composed.

She's always been stronger than she gives herself credit for.

As we near her house, disappointment swirls in my gut. I don’t want this to end, I realize. I want to shield her from the pain, to take away the hurt that Brendan caused. But I know Chloe, and I know she'll come out of this even stronger than before. She's a fighter, through and through.

She doesn’t need me. Not really.

Chloe turns to me. “So, Jackson, what about you? Is your love life better than mine? Am I going to ruin your chances with someone if word gets out about what just happened?”

My heart skips a beat, and I grip the steering wheel a little tighter. Images of Chloe flood my mind.

Shit.

I’ve been trying so hard to control my change in feelings for her over the past year or so and now I’m failing completely.

But I can't tell her that, not now, not when she's still reeling from her breakup with Brendan.

I clear my throat, trying to buy myself some time. “Me? Nah, I'm just focusing on the garage right now. You know how it is, always something that needs fixing.”

Chloe tilts her head. “Really? I find that hard to believe. You're a catch, Jackson Whitaker. Any girl would be lucky to have you.”

Damn. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Am I really freakin’ blushing? I risk a glance in her direction, our eyes meeting for a brief, charged moment. There's something there, a flicker of an emotion I can't quite name, but it's gone as quickly as it appeared.

“A catch? I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before.” Trouble, maybe. Rough around the edges definitely. Never a catch. I laugh, a little too loudly, trying to dispel the tension. “I don’t know if I’m going to find my dream girl in this town, Chlo.”

She shrugs. “You never know. You deserve someone nice.”

I want to tell her that she's nice. More than nice. And there’s no one I’d rather be with.

But the timing isn't right, and I don't want to risk losing our friendship, not when she needs me the most.

“You'll be the first to know if I find someone nice,” I promise, pulling up to the curb in front of her house. “But for now, you're stuck with me as your fake boyfriend.” I reach over to undo her seatbelt at the same time she turns to face me.

As she shifts in her seat, her bare leg brushes against my hand, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.

I quickly withdraw my hand, but it’s too late. My fingers tingle from the brief contact, and I grit my teeth, trying not to think about running my hand over her smooth skin.

Forcing my gaze to her face, I mutter a quick, “Sorry.”

“It's okay,” she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chloe breaks the spell, reaching for the door handle. “Thanks again for everything, Jackson. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

I force a smile, pushing down the longing that threatens to consume me. “Anytime, Chlo.”

She nods, a half smile curving her lips. “You’re too good to me, Jackson.”

I don’t know if she’d be thinking that if she knew what the hell was burning through my mind right now.

“I’ll come by soon. See how you’re doing.”

“I’ll be okay,” Chloe promises. “Don’t worry.”

With that, she steps out of the car, closing the door behind her. I watch as she walks up the path to her front door, my heart aching with each step she takes away from me.

She might be okay. But I don’t know that I will be.

I don’t know what the hell is going on with me. The only thing I do know is that I can’t act on this now. Maybe not ever. She’ll probably never see me as anything more than a friend, and I’ll never be good enough for anyone as smart and as sweet as Chloe.

I run a hand over my face and pull away from the sidewalk. It’s probably best I forget this whole thing. Forget Chloe. She’ll be off to college soon. She has her whole future ahead of her.

And soon I’ll just be the guy who pretended to be her boyfriend for one day.