Jesus, I really have turned into fucking John Mayer. I love that guy. He’s a great song writer, but sappy as shit sometimes.
“Well?” she says, her tone hostile.
I bite back the words I want to say. Out of habit. Out of self-protection. I want to admit to her what I want. But it’s like…
I can’t.
“That’s what I thought,” she says after too many beats of silence. “I can’t keep chasing after you, Jackson. And you have to stop counting on me always being there for you. There’s nothing in it for me. You get it all.”
“Ellie—”
“No.” She shakes her head. “There’s no point in us talking tonight. You can figure out your shit on your own. I’m tired of trying to help you. Of being your support system all the time, when it’s like you can’t even see me. And you don’t get to be jealous of a guy when you won’t ever make a move on me. Your arrogance is—annoying.”
“Annoying?” I laugh. I can’t help it. “You don’t think I see you? I see you every goddamn day, Ellie. You haunt my thoughts. You’re in my dreams. I think about you when I jerk off, for Christ’s sake. I see you. I see all of you.”
I’m breathing hard. So is she. Her gaze drops to my mouth, as if she wants me to kiss her, and so I give in.
I kiss her.
Like I can’t help myself.
The moment my lips crash down on hers, she responds. Her hands curl into the front of my T-shirt, trying to pull me closer. I give her what she wants, pressing her against the wall, my body flush with hers, our mouths fused. Hungry. Tongues tangling. I touch her face. Her hair. Her shoulder. Her chest, cupping her breasts. She fits perfectly in my palm and I press harder, making her moan into my mouth.
Just as fast as I kissed her, I back away, ending it all. Her eyes open and she watches me warily, her chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. She says nothing.
“I see you,” I repeat. “But my question is, do you really see me, Ellie?”
She doesn’t answer.
So I walk away.
Twenty-Four
Ellie
“Are you excited about Jackson’s show tonight?” Ava smiles at me in the mirror, her entire expression joyful. She’s so glad to be home. With us. With Eli. I’m glad she’s here too. I’ve missed her terribly.
But my mood is terrible. I can’t stop thinking about my little argument with Jackson last night. The words we said to each other. The way he kissed me.
I wasn’t that mad about our not seeing each other much over the last few weeks. I get it—we’re both busy. But I hated how jealous he got over Carson. Yes, I can admit it didn’t feel right going on that date with him. I shouldn’t have done it at all. Carson is sweet. He’s a good guy.
I just don’t think he
’s the guy for me.
Even though I went on a date with him, it doesn’t give Jackson the right to act like a jealous asshole and demand I stop seeing Carson. Not that he ever said stuff like that. But his obvious jealousy infuriates me. If he wants to actually be with me, he needs to tell me. He needs to do something about it. Maybe I made things worse, but I don’t know.
I feel like we both made things worse, and now I’m nervous. Maybe we’re not made for each other after all.
Maybe this will never work.
“Are you okay?” Ava asks when I still haven’t said anything. “You seem down.”
“I’m fine.” I turn to face her, a weak smile pasted on my face. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve missed you.”
She pulls me into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you too. And I’ve known you long enough to know there’s something bothering you. What’s wrong?”
I pull away from her, waving my hand dismissively. “I’m fine. I don’t want to ruin your mood.”