The Sophomore (College Years 2)
Ouch. Okay.
Jackson stands, looming behind me. “You’ll keep us posted on what’s going on with the car?”
“Let me get your information and I’ll definitely keep you up-to-date,” the mechanic says.
Jackson follows after him, rattling off his personal info as the mechanic enters it into the computer. I watch him, admiring his confidence. How he sweeps in to rescue me without hesitation. I know I’m supposed to be mad at him. That I’m supposed to ignore him and move on with my life, but he makes it pretty hard when he steps in and helps me so readily.
“All right, we’re good to go.” Jackson comes up beside me and slips his arm around my shoulders, giving me a gentle shake. “You ready?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
We exit the waiting room, the hot air outside hitting me like a wall and I immediately break out into a sweat. Jackson drops his arm from my shoulders as we walk toward his car, and I miss his touch. His closeness. But when we climb into his car, I feel like I’m wrapped up in a Jackson-made cocoon, and all is right in my world again.
I am such a sucker.
His unique scent fills the space. And he’s so big, so broad, he physically fills up the space. He glances over at me with a faint smile, and I smile weakly at him in return.
What am I doing? I’m supposed to be mad at him. Cutting him off for good. Yet here I sit, indebted to him financially after he sweeps in and rescues me.
Jackson starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot, headed in the comple
te opposite direction of his apartment. And mine too, since we all sort of live in the same area.
“Where are we going?” I ask, my voice low.
He sends me a quick look before returning his gaze to the road. “I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking starving.”
My stomach growls at hearing his words. “Same.”
“Let’s grab a late lunch. Or an early dinner. Whatever you want to call it.” Jackson checks his dashboard. “It’s already past five. We can call it dinner. My treat.”
I glance down at myself. “I’m not dressed the best.” I bet I smell bad too. I was sweating up a storm when I had to walk to Tony’s condo complex.
“Me either,” he says with a chuckle. “We won’t go anywhere too fancy.”
He takes me to a Mexican restaurant near downtown Clovis called 559 Taqueria.
“Ever been here before?” he asks as he pulls into a parking spot behind the restaurant.
“No, but I’ve heard of it.”
“You’re going to think you’ve died and gone to taco heaven. Trust me.” He sends a grin in my direction before he climbs out of the car.
I’m left sitting in my feelings for a moment, stunned stupid by the look on his face. Sometimes I really hate how attractive he is.
Though most of the time, I love it.
I follow after him as we enter the restaurant, and we have to stand in line to place our order. It smells delicious in here. Like…mouthwateringly good. My stomach growls nonstop, reminding me that I never ate lunch and had a really crappy breakfast, and I think about my options. I just want a couple of tacos. Maybe some chips?
“What do you want?” Jackson asks, his eyes on the menu board on the wall.
I tell him my simple request and he nods.
“I’ll order for you. I know what you like.”
Frowning, I stare up at him, at a loss. He does?
He tilts his head down, lowering his voice. “I know you think this has been a one-sided thing between us the last couple of years, but I’ve been paying attention to you, Ellie. I know you love Mexican food, but you don’t like tomatoes. And all the other girls drink Diet Coke, but you prefer root beer. Though you’re not a big soda drinker at all. You’ll eat salsa, but you dunk your chips in it without scooping anything up. I’ll make sure there’s no pico de gallo on your tacos.”