“Me?” He rests his free hand against his chest, seemingly offended. “Always.”
We watch her go, both of us quiet. I brace myself for what he might say. Or worse, for someone to approach and draw him away from me. I’m mad at him, but I’m also basking in his presence because, come on. It’s not easy for me to turn my feelings for him on and off. When he shows me those vulnerable little pieces of himself, pieces he doesn’t share with anyone else, I feel so connected to him, it’s hard to break free.
Like right now, while I stare at him like a lovesick fool.
“Did you enjoy tonight’s performance?” he asks me, his voice low. Intimate. It touches something deep inside of me, turning my legs to jelly and making me grateful I’m not standing right now.
“You were great, as always,” I reassure him, wishing he wasn’t touching me. Wishing he wasn’t sitting so close. I can’t think when he does these things.
“I’ve missed you.” He drops his head, his mouth right at my ear. “Did you miss me?”
I close my eyes for the briefest moment, wishing my ‘tangled up in him’ emotions away. This is what I’ve longed for all summer. Jackson paying attention to me and no one else.
I nod, unable to find the words. Too overwhelmed by his nearness. His voice.
It’s a weapon. One that shatters my defenses every time I hear it.
“You shouldn’t though,” he says, his fingers drifting up and down my arm, lulling me into this false sense of security. “I’m a prick. You saw me with that girl.”
“I don’t want to talk about her.” My voice is flat. I refuse to go back to that moment.
Even though it’s burned into my brain forever.
“I don’t either, but she’s right there, sitting in the forefront of your mind. Am I right?” When I nod again, he continues, “She means nothing to me. Not like you do.”
I lean back so I can stare into his beautiful blue eyes. I see nothing but sincerity in his gaze. “Are you just saying that?”
His mouth drops open. “No. You mean a lot to me, El.”
“Just as a friend, though. Right?”
He blinks at me, as if he can’t believe I’m calling him out for his shit. He deserves this. No matter how badly I’m quaking inside, scared I’m going to make him mad and push him out of my life for good, I have to do this.
“What are you asking me?” He seems genuinely confused.
“If you care about me so much, why do you get with other girls?” Why can’t he see me as more than a friend?
He makes a face. “
Come on. I don’t want to have a heavy conversation with you tonight.”
He never wants to have a heavy conversation with me, period.
“Wanna go to my room?” he asks, quickly changing the subject. His smile is charming. Devastating. “I have something for you.”
“What do you mean?” I ask warily. If he says it’s his dick, I’m going to hit him.
But he’s not Caleb, so I doubt that would be his response.
“I have a gift. Something I bought you on my travels. Come on.” He removes his arm from my shoulders and pushes up from the couch to stand. He offers his hand to me and I stare at it like it’s a snake about to strike. “Ellie. Come on. Let’s go.”
I follow his command and slap my hand in his, gasping when he pulls me up so fast, I nearly crash into him. He doesn’t let go of my hand as he leads me through the throng of people congregated in his living room, all of them calling his name because he is the man they’re all here to see tonight.
He smiles and waves like a damn celebrity, but doesn’t stop. Just drags me down the hall and into his bedroom, hitting the light switch and shutting the door, cutting off all sounds coming from the apartment.
It’s quiet in here. And an absolute mess. He’s only been home for a couple of days, but his shit is strewn everywhere. There’s a giant suitcase sitting open on the floor with all kinds of stuff in it still.
“You’re still a slob I see,” I tease.