Текст книги "Beloved"
Автор книги: Corinne Michaels
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
Somehow I manage to keep myself from collapsing and make my way to the elevator. Once inside with the doors shut, I slide to the floor and close my eyes. I inhale deeply, trying to calm myself. Remembering that he placed something in my hand, I unclench my fingers and look down to find a business card. On the back, scribbled in short, precise strokes, is a message.
* * *
“Why didn’t you ever tell me about him?” Ashton continues to question me. She’s been grilling me for the last hour.
I haven’t seen her at all over the last few days. She’s been staying at the lab because of the clinical trials, and the one night she was home, I had a dinner meeting with the other publicists from my office. By the time I got back, Ashton was already passed out. Needing some girl time, we decided to spend the weekend relaxing before I have to deal with Jackson again. We’re now on our second bottle of wine. During our first bottle, I was a mess—trying to form words while rehashing all the details about Neil and Piper, then about Jackson. She was quiet and listened to me get it all out, constantly filling my glass and offering me silent support. However, during the consumption of bottle number two, we’ve moved on to complete giddiness and feeling no pain. We’re now laughing over all the stuff I was upset about an hour ago. Of course, Ashton finds it highly entertaining—I find it disturbing and unfair.
“I don’t know, Ashton. What the hell was I going to say? I tripped over a chair and fell on a ridiculously hot guy? I felt stupid enough. I didn’t need your shit too.” I laugh and gulp my wine.
“Only you! I swear this shit never happens to anyone else I know. So what are you going to do? I mean he’s hot and he’s obviously sexually attracted to you.” She raises her eyebrow and grins.
“I’m not going to do anything. He’s my client.”
“So? Who says you can’t service your boss?” She winks and giggles.
“I can’t believe you. You would never sleep with the doctors in the lab, would you?”
“Who says I haven’t? Plus, they’re all ugly as shit. If there was a hot one, I’d totally play doctor and let him cure me.” She lays her hand across her head in mockery.
“You have issues.” I groan at the sheer ridiculousness of my situation. “What the hell am I going to do?”
“You’re going to do what you always do—you’ll go in there and fight all of your emotions and kick some corporate ass. Then you’ll come home and wallow in your Ben & Jerry’s, be miserable, and cry yourself to sleep. Eventually, you’ll waste all your chances for a real connection and sabotage your own happiness.” She shrugs and refuses to break eye contact.
I gasp at the cruelty—and accuracy—of her statement. “What the hell, Ashton?”
“Sorry, Cat, but it’s true. You knew things were wrong with Neil, but instead of leaving him, you got engaged. Before him there was Eli. You stayed with him for years because he was safe and you thought you deserved the sheer hell he put you through. I’m not trying to hurt you.” She scoots over and puts her arm around me, pulling me into a hug. “I’m just telling you that whether this guy was your client or not, you’d find a reason to destroy yourself over him.”
My heart clenches at her words. It hurts so much coming from Ashton. I know she loves me, but I hate what she’s saying. “I don’t understand why every guy I meet or date lets me down.”
“You need to stop looking for this perfect guy. You need to get out of your own head and start having fun. Once the product is released, who knows where you and this Jackson guy will be? Maybe you’ll like him. Maybe he’ll be the world’s biggest piece of shit. Either way, you need to figure you out before you fret about all this. Monday morning, go to your meeting, be the kick-ass girl I know you are, and blow them all away.” She smiles reassuringly before picking up the empty wine glasses and bottles and heading into the kitchen.
I grab a pillow and clutch it to my chest. She’s right. It’s not like I even know Jackson or have any connection to him, other than this crazy feeling I get when I’m around him. I need to focus on my life for once. I don’t have to take anyone else into account. The realization is liberating. Now I need to figure out a way to make my body stop reacting to Jackson and all his sexiness.
Chapter Eight
For the third night in a row, I’ve slept like complete shit. I tossed and turned all night, tormented by images of Jackson and me rolling around in my bed. It was pure heaven. Then I woke up and realized none of the amazing things he just did to me were real. Now I’m all keyed up and have to go to a meeting where I’ll spend the majority of my time trying not to stare at his gorgeous face. I groan and roll over, punching my pillow, wishing that I could call in sick today. But I’m no chicken shit, so I throw my covers off and head into the bathroom.
I strip out of my clothes and enter the waterfall shower, turning on the side jets. The hot water relaxes my muscles as my mind wanders to—who else?—Jackson. I need a plan on how to handle him—he makes me feel too much. He’s even taken over my subconscious while I sleep. Last night’s vivid dream of Jackson touching me, licking me, and claiming me rushes back, rekindling my need for relief. I close my eyes, letting the steam envelop me as I start to remember the way he played with my body, as if he’d been doing it for years.
The warm scent of my vanilla body wash relaxes me as I gently rub the soap over my curves. I lean back against the cold shower tiles and slowly move my hands to my breasts, circling the soap, imagining it’s his mouth on me. My nipples harden as I tease myself. I start to gasp and moan, fantasizing that his hands and voice are coaxing me on, telling me how much he wants me. The demand to release becomes stronger as I get lost in the sensations. My hand slides down my slick skin until it finds my clit, circling the bundle of nerves, pushing me further and further into ecstasy. My muscles clench as I envision Jackson’s fingers, his body covering mine and entering me. I insert one finger, climbing higher, higher, moaning and quivering. My release comes fast and hard as I increase the friction, finally erupting. I’m panting as bursts of light blur my vision.
Eventually, I come down from my euphoric state, finish my shower, and manage to dress myself without any major catastrophe. Hopefully the release will alleviate some of the tension in my body and make it easier to deal with Jackson. I make it to the train without a minute to spare, but at least it’s nice and quiet. I’m hoping I can hold on to this blissful feeling all day.
Once I arrive in Manhattan, a new set of emotions overcomes me. Raw strength and determination flow through me. There’s something about working in New York City. You can almost feel the power in the streets. It’s a breeding ground for success. Being here, working here, living here—it’s invigorating.
Standing in front of Jackson’s building, I see my reflection in the glass. I certainly look the part. I have on a soft cream blouse tucked into a pair of high-waisted gray suit pants. My long hair is pin straight, my dark brown eyes look soft with only a wisp of mascara, and sheer lip gloss accentuates my lips. My black heels elongate my tiny frame, making me feel tall and bold. With my posture straight, I enter the office, heading up to face Jackson and start kicking ass.
The same sweet receptionist guides me back to the conference room where my initial meeting was held. I’m a little early, so there isn’t anyone else in the room yet. I’m removing items from my bag when I hear the door click open. Jackson’s voice floats through the space.
“Yes, I’m aware of your opinion on the matter. However, I’ve made my choice.” He sounds irritated.
A second voice responds, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. It’s a female, though, and by her tone I can tell she’s trying to make him listen to her.
“I don’t care or agree with you,” he responds to whatever the comment was. Another long pause as I strain to hear her response. The door inches open a little more.
“Well, Ms. Carlson, it’s a good thing I’m the CEO.”
Shit! Piper! My blissful mood drains away.
The door opens and Jackson steps aside to let Piper come in first. She looks up and grimaces when she notices me standing here. Jackson enters. It’s as if the world stops moving. His presence would cause the energy in any room to shift, but I can’t help wondering if I feel it more intensely than everyone else. It’s—he’s—intoxicating.
He looks over at me and smiles. “Good morning, Catherine.”
“Good morning, Mr. Cole.” I smile and look at Piper. “Good morning, Piper. Nice to see you in a color other than nude.” The last thing I wish for her is a good morning. However, pleasantries are necessary, and I refuse to let her to take yet another thing from me. But I allow myself the small dig.
She snorts and rolls her eyes.
Bitch.
Jackson doesn’t notice her catty behavior. He sits at the head of the table with Piper to his left and me in the chair on his right. He’s so close. I can feel the heat radiating from him.
“Okay, let’s get started,” Jackson says.
We spend the next hour debating and discussing the best way to present the soon-to-be-released makeup line. Piper tries to undermine my opinion at every turn, but I hold my ground. Jackson sits back and interjects only when he feels the need. It seems more like a volleyball game than a meeting. After another hour, she’s finally done arguing and agrees with my vision on how to get the company on track.
“Well, ladies, I think we’re about done here. It’s been rather entertaining.” Jackson chuckles and stands, gathering his papers as he does.
Piper leans over to him, trying to keep her voice down. “Mr. Cole, I really think we should talk privately about our options.”
A flash of irritation cross his face as he gruffly replies, “Piper, again, I’m well aware of your opinion and the answer is no.” Jackson meets my eyes and grins.
I sigh and flush with embarrassment.
“Mr. Cole—”
He raises his hand to stop me. “I asked you to call me Jackson.”
Piper stands there slack-jawed with her arms crossed.
“Yes, sorry. Jackson, I’ve arranged everything for Friday’s trip—”
“My secretary will send you the details. I’ve already arranged to have a car pick you up and take you to the airport. You won’t need to worry about anything.” He tucks his materials under his arm and pushes in his chair to leave. As he approaches the door he stops, turns to me, and smirks. “Expect to have dinner while we’re there.” He winks and exits.
Dinner. Of course. I’m never going to avoid this man. He’s going to take full advantage of our time together in Virginia. There is no escaping him. If he’s persistent enough, I may not be strong enough to resist him. I’m barely hanging on as it is. Except there’s the small problem that he’s my client, and I could lose everything I’ve worked for if anything happens between us.
A cough breaks me from my thoughts and I realize I’ve been staring at the door. I look to see Piper glaring at me. “Are you dating him?” she asks in a condescending tone.
“Excuse me?” I stand so I’m eye level with her, looking at her incredulously. Surely she isn’t talking to me like that.
“I asked if you were dating Jackson Cole.” She walks toward me and places her hands on the table, leaning in. She raises her eyebrows, waiting for my response.
My eyes widen at her challenge. I glare right back at her with unadulterated hate. “You’re insane—and a whore, but we’ll revisit that in a minute. Are you seriously talking to me right now?” I’m seething. My body is shaking at her asinine question. She slept with my fiancé and now she’s going to stand here and give me shit? I don’t think so.
“I’m just surprised, Catherine. Is that how you beat out Neil for this account? His numbers were flawless. He deserves to be here, not you,” Piper states, tilting her head to the side as she narrows her eyes accusingly.
“Well I’m glad you think so because Neil stole my figures!” I step closer to her, radiating anger. First, she has the nerve to insinuate that I won the account because I’m sleeping with Jackson. Then she brings up Neil’s stellar figures. “I seriously can’t believe you have the balls to address me, let alone accuse me of something. It’s none of your business—any of it—but for the record, I got this account because I’m the better choice!”
She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Well I guess I was the right choice for Neil.”
“Wow, Piper, you want to go there? Good, have him! After seeing what he’s capable of, I’m glad we’re done.” I clench my hands, desperate to punch something or someone, like the blond bitch in front of me.
Her eyes flash and venom fills her voice. “You think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you? You think I give a shit about what you think or what you’re happy about?” She steps toward me, grinning. “I fucked your fiancé for four months and you had no idea.”
My hand flies to my throat. “Four months?” The words slip from my mouth. My stomach plummets and I grab onto the chair for support. Four months of Neil sleeping with her and then sleeping with me? I’m such a fool. I thought it was a one-time thing, not an affair! My chin quivers as I drown in pain and betrayal, but I won’t let her see me cry.
“Not so smart now, huh?” A victorious smile spreads from one cheek to the other, and I want to slap it off her arrogant face. That’s all it takes for the tightly pulled thread of my control to break. What the actual fuck? Where I was upset a few moments ago, right now my blood is boiling. I won’t break down any further in front of this piece of trash.
“I’m not going to stand here and listen to your shit. The only thing you should be saying to me is, ‘I’m sorry,’ not this bullshit. You went after a man that wasn’t yours! You were my friend, or at least I thought you were. Then you try to give me crap about going after Jackson? Fuck you! I’m done here.”
“Well I’m not done yet,” she sneers.
There’s no way this bitch is going to call the shots. “I have nothing left to say to you, and I couldn’t give two shits about whatever you want.” I take a step toward her and smother the urge to choke her. “I won. I got the account and you got Neil—which was the best fucking thing that could’ve happened to me.”
She lifts her bag and turns to me, her eyes narrowed. “Just so you know, Neil came to me. Not the other way around. I didn’t need to go after him. He obviously wasn’t happy with what he was getting at home. I think that says something, don’t you?” She raises her brow and takes a few steps toward the door. Without looking back, she says, “I wonder how long until Jackson gets bored with you.” Then she shrugs and strides out of the office. I guess she couldn’t resist digging the knife in a little deeper.
I’m crazy to think I have any shot with a man like Jackson, not that I’m trying for anything with him anyway. If I don’t get out of here now, I’m going to break down. I know I shouldn’t let her affect me, but she managed to remind me of every insecurity I’ve ever had in a matter of five minutes.
I grab my belongings and rush out the door only to crash into a hard chest. All my papers fly out of my bag and flutter around me. As they settle, I let out a sardonic laugh and hear a deep, familiar chuckle, letting me know I’ve run into Jackson yet again. Will the humiliation ever end? I look up and see his captivating eyes change as he takes me in. I haven’t had a chance to school my features, so I have no idea what he’s seeing right now. He’s close enough that I can feel his chest rise and fall. I can feel his warmth. Neither of us has spoken. He hasn’t said anything obnoxious. He’s staring at me inquisitively.
“Are you okay?” he asks in a soft voice as he crouches down to collect the papers. His concern makes my heart ache. “What was that about?”
Oh God, did he hear what Piper said? I clear my throat, bend down across from him, and try to force the conversation with Piper—and all the emotions that came along with it—out of my mind. “Yes, I’m fine. It was nothing I can’t handle,” I say as I pick up the last paper.
His penetrating eyes lock onto mine and he cocks his head to the side, trying to determine if I’m telling the truth. Giving me a half smile, he silently hands me the papers he gathered and we both stand. I stuff them back in my bag and return my gaze to Jackson’s. Deciding to break the awkward silence, I speak first. “Well, thank you for helping me. I should go.”
“No thanks needed.” He looks like he wants to say more but is debating internally. Without another word, he grabs my bag off my shoulder and places his hand on the small of my back to guide me. “I’ll walk you out.”
When we arrive at the front desk, he hands me back my bag and smiles warmly. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
I grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks. I’m not sure why—I couldn’t let him walk away. Quickly, I try to think of something to say to justify my behavior. “I … I meant to ask you about …” I stumble over my words, feeling more and more foolish. “You know what? It’s fine.” I smile awkwardly, hoping he lets it go.
Jackson leans forward, dropping his voice so only I can hear. His eyes give away nothing, and I can only imagine the myriad of emotions my own eyes show. “I was having a hard time walking away from you too.” He leans back and grins at me as his words float into my brain.
“Yeah,” I say breathlessly. Wait, what? That isn’t what I wanted to say! Dammit! I had a great come back and that is what comes out of my mouth? Shoot me now, please.
He raises his eyebrow and gives me a full mega-watt smile, enjoying my discomfort. “This trip is going to be fun. I’ll see you soon, Catherine.” His voice drips with the promise of things to come.
I smother my groan and decide to try to play it smart and casual. “Good-bye, Jackson.” I turn and walk to the elevator, hoping he’s watching as I sway my hips a little more than normal. I look over my shoulder, smiling when I see his eyes are exactly where I want them to be.
Chapter Nine
“Ugh! Where the hell is my black dress?” I yell out my bedroom door. Ashton is sitting on the couch laughing at something on TV.
“Stressed much?” she replies from the other room.
“I need your help! Get your ass off the couch!” I say in my pouty voice and stomp my feet like a twelve-year-old. I need her to calm me down and pack for me. It’s been four days since I last saw Jackson. I’ve gotten almost nothing accomplished because every time I sit to start something, I find myself daydreaming of his face or imagining his lips leaning down to kiss me. Lost in yet another fantasy of Jackson, I sigh and hear Ashton laugh again, only this time she’s in my doorway, staring at me.
“Lost in Jacksonland again, are we?” She snorts and heads into my room. “You got it bad.”
“Shut up. I do not!”
“Really?” Ashton tilts her head up and taps her finger on her chin as if she’s debating something. “Well if that’s true, then where’s his business card? I could always call him since I’m single.” She shrugs, gauging my reaction.
I glare at her. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Hmmm. You said he’s hot though, right?” She grins before continuing, “I really would like to see for myself. Who knows? Maybe we’ll hit it off.”
“You’re so full of shit. You wouldn’t do that to me.” I turn and look in my drawer for the damn black dress that’s not in my closet.
“If you’re not interested, why should it matter?” In the mirror I see her raise an eyebrow, goading me.
“I’m not interested, but that doesn’t mean I want him hanging around here.” I know she’ll never buy it, but that’s all I’ve got.
“I’ll make sure not to bring him around. I know he’s your client and all.” I turn and look at her smiling face. She’s waiting for me to either have an epic tantrum or call her on it.
Fine. Two can play at this game. “The card is on the dresser,” I walk over to the card Jackson placed in my hand last week. “Go ahead and give him a call. I’ll be right here.” I hold it out to Ashton, willing her to take it, hoping she doesn’t.
She grabs the card and reaches for the phone. She types the numbers and smiles the whole time as I gape at her. I can’t believe she’s calling him. I know what I said, but I never thought she’d actually do it. She knows me better than that. I’m about to say something when I look closer and realize she has my phone in her hand. I leap over the pile of clothes on the floor and lunge for the phone. She falls back on the bed, laughing hysterically as I claw my way up and rip it out of her hand. “You bitch!” I try to contain my laughter as I scroll through the call log to see if she dialed. “I’m gonna kill you! Thank God you didn’t freaking call him!”
“Nope, I wouldn’t call him. That would be sooo embarrassing.” She stands and heads into my closet.
Just as I’m about to go back to packing, my phone vibrates in my hand. I look down and open the text message from a number I don’t recognize.
Unknown: Can’t wait to see you either.
Dread seeps through my veins as I grab the business card and check the number. Sure enough, it’s Jackson. She’s dead!
“Ashton! You’ve got to be kidding me! You texted him?” I exclaim.
She peeks her head out from the closet, smiling. “I said I didn’t call him. Never said anything about other forms of communication.” She giggles and goes back into the closet.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm down. Okay, I can handle this. I won’t respond, and I’ll play it off when I see him—although, I might be in a jail cell instead of meeting Jackson tomorrow. I think a judge would understand why I had to murder my best friend. I sink onto my bed and put my pillow over my head, groaning.
Ashton comes over and nudges my leg. I pull the pillow down and glare at her in response. “You’re being a drama queen. Look at the message I sent him before you get all stabby.” She starts folding clothes and putting them in my suitcase.
I look at the outgoing text message.
Me: Ready for the trip. See you at 8.
Whatever. She should have never sent him a damn text message. Now he probably thinks I sit around thinking about him. He wouldn’t be far off in that assumption, but I don’t exactly want him to know that. Damn Ashton and her stupid interfering. I look over to find her rummaging through my underwear drawer. I snap at her, “What the hell are you doing in there?” I rush over to close the drawer.
“If you’re getting naked, you need proper panties.” She smiles mischievously.
“There will be no naked!” I sigh and grab out a few pairs of underwear.
“Sure, Cat. Keep telling yourself that. This guy wants in your pants and you can’t even try to tell me you’re not dying to get in his. So embrace your inner temptress, get some cute panties, and get on it … or under it.” She winks and runs out of my room before I can throw something at her.
Not even ten seconds later she pops her head in my room, giggling. “Oh, your black dress is in the bag. You can thank me later,” she says. Then she runs out again.
Sure enough, I look in the suitcase and find my black dress along with one of my negligées. Ashton!
* * *
My suitcase is bouncing noisily down the foyer stairs at our apartment complex. I’m exhausted and crabby after being completely unhappy with pretty much anything I had in my closet. Since I have absolutely no idea what we’re going to be doing in Virginia, I packed for any scenario. Trying to pick the perfect travel clothes for today, I went for comfortable and cute. I’m wearing a black and white sundress with my black flats. I don’t know why I thought a dress would be a good option for being on a plane and going through security, but it doesn’t matter now. I’m ten minutes late and don’t have time to change. As I make my way outside, my eyes widen in surprise. Jackson is in front of my building, leaning against the door of a black town car sedan and smiling at my reaction.
He walks forward, takes the handle of my bag, and leans toward me, handing me a cup of coffee. “Good morning, Catherine. You look happy to see me.”
I groan and roll my eyes, taking the coffee out of his hand. He lets out a deep chuckle at my reaction and hands my bag to the driver.
“Good morning, Jackson.” I turn and walk to the other side of the car, open the door, and whisper under my breath, “Yeah, oh so happy.” I hear him exhale in a short burst, almost like he’s laughing. I look back to see him smiling from ear to ear. Of course he heard me.
He slides his big body into the seat next to me, taking over all the space in the car. We’re close. So close that his warmth radiates into me and his cologne fills my nose. He leans down, reaching for something in his bag, and his fingers brush the bare skin of my leg. Tingles shoot up my thighs at the contact. It’s too much for me.
I scoot over a little more toward the window. Even though I’d love nothing more than to sit on his lap, I try to avoid touching him. My walls are going to come crumbling down really fast if I don’t keep some distance. I look out the window and sip my coffee. Smiling, I glance at him, surprised that he somehow managed to make it the way I like it. I was prepared for it to be black, not light and sweet.
“How did you know?” I lift the cup.
“I have my ways.” He grins and turns his attention to the file folder on his lap.
I’m sure he does. I smile reply, “Well, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He doesn’t glance up and I’m a little disappointed. He has this uncanny way of knowing my thoughts—maybe he’s trying to keep his distance so I’m not uncomfortable?
I grab my iPhone and go through my alerts. We have about a thirty-minute drive to the airport.
I notice the voicemail that I’ve been avoiding—my mother’s. She’s called eight times, but I keep putting off returning the call. She frustrates me, and lately I don’t have the patience to deal with it. I glance at Jackson. He’s engrossed in whatever he’s reading, so I decide to listen to it.
“Hello, Catherine. It’s Mom. I hope all is well.” She pauses and I can almost hear her bristle. Her voice is filled with frustration. “I’ve tried to call you about ten times now, but I guess you’re ignoring me again. I’m not sure how to say this, so I’m just going to come out with it.” She lets out a deep sigh and goes on, softer now. “I got a letter from a lawyer. They sent notice that your presence is required next week at their office. They need you to—” Another long pause. “—settle your father’s estate. He passed away a week ago.” She sounds sad, and I can hear her taking short breaths as if she’s crying. “You were listed as his beneficiary and this was your last known address. I’m so sorry, sweetie. Please call me. I love you.” The line goes dead.
I drop the phone in my lap. The emotions swarming inside of me are jumbled, all over the place. I haven’t spoken to my father in almost twenty years. I don’t know why I feel sad. I hate him. He walked away. He deserted me—never called, never cared—so why do I feel like I’m going to cry? What do I do now? I’m supposed to go through his affairs, settle his estate—I don’t even know where the hell he’s lived all this time. I drop my head in my hands and struggle to catch my breath. I’m so angry. I moved on. I forgot about him. I got over the fact that I wouldn’t have someone to walk me down the aisle or dance with me at my wedding. I don’t need him or want any part of him, so why do I feel such utter despair? The tightness in my chest has me gasping for air, shaking. I roll down the window frantically—I need air.
Jackson places his hand on my arm and I snap my head up. I kind of forgot about him there beside me. He’s staring at me. He squeezes my arm and his eyes soften as if he can sense my panic. “Are you okay?” His voice is concerned.
I shake my head subtly up and down. I don’t think I can speak. I avert my eyes, looking at my hands grasped tightly in my lap.
“Catherine,” he says softly, looking alarmed by whatever emotions are showing on my face. He reaches for my hand and places his gently over mine. I can’t look at him. I need to keep it together. I should have never listened to that damn voicemail. Who tells someone their parent died on a voicemail? Another way my mother and her selfish ways come to light. She could’ve called again, could’ve called Taylor—anything other than leave a voicemail.
I need to explain this to him. I have to say something. I look over and whisper, “My father died.”
His eyes widen in shock before changing to sympathy. “I’m so sorry,” he says, and his sincerity breaks my carefully constructed wall.
“It’s fine. I mean, we weren’t close. I just—” My chin begins to tremble. I can’t speak anymore.
My heart is aching. All these years, all this time—it’s all over and I’ll never get the answers I so desperately needed. Why did he really leave me? Tears blur my vision. I close my eyes and try to hang on to the anger I had moments ago.
Jackson must sense I’m about to fall apart because he leans in, puts his arm around me, and pulls me to his side. I try to resist, but he’s stronger and grips tighter. Not wanting to fight him, I give in, allowing myself this one moment to accept the comfort he’s offering. His warmth cocoons me as I curl into his chest and slip my arm around his stomach. He holds me so snug, keeping me together while my mind spins. He does nothing to move me, just tenderly strokes the side of my arm. My heart is pounding and my breathing is shallow, both from the whirlwind of emotions and his closeness. I start to pull away, trying to put some distance between us, but Jackson refuses to relax his hold on me. I have to admit I feel so small and safe in his embrace. Closing my eyes, I lose myself in his touch. I want to cry, but the tears won’t come. I focus on the steady sound of his heartbeat. So sure, so strong. The thrumming anchors me and keeps me from falling apart. We stay like this the rest of the car ride, neither of us speaking as I try to understand the numbness I’m feeling.
When we arrive at the airport, Jackson shifts slightly and I sit up. I look out the window and realize we’re at Teterboro, which means we’re flying on a private jet. I turn to look at Jackson, confused and embarrassed, when he puts his hand on my cheek, softly cradling it. “Are you going to be okay? We can cancel the trip if you need to.”
