Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)(110)

I end the kiss when it’s time, and as she opens her eyes, I glare down at her, slightly pissed off.

“I’m goddamn crazy about you.”

“I─”

“I don’t give a flying f*ck if you want to hold on to something you think you have to hold onto because if it’s real it makes it, what? Too hard? Scary? Screw that. You know what’s hard, Emma? Blindly going through life with nothing but work and a piss ass one-bedroom apartment, thinking there isn’t anyone out there for you. That no one, not even your f*cking family, understands you. And happily ever after? Well forget that ’cause who’ll put up with your ass long enough to let that happen?”

Green’s mouth is agape.

“I. Give. A shit. About you.”

“Y─”

“Deal with it.”

I leave her there with the open-mouthed, shock and awe look on her face to think about what I just said. Meanwhile, back on my side of the Chevelle, I’m still trying to figure out where this all came from.

Green still hasn’t moved when I pull the door open and fall into the seat. Not gonna lie, I’m scared shitless. I haven’t felt like this about someone since fifth grade when I thought I was gonna marry my P.E. teacher.

However, I’m eerily okay with what just happened.

My head rests against the seat. All I can do at this point is breathe.

Namaste, motherf*ckers.

Two to four minutes later, maybe ten, I’m still waiting for Green to get in. I glance over to make sure she’s still next to the car.

Seriously, what is there to ponder out there?

When she finally pulls the door open and slides in next to me, she sits face forward.

For a long while, we just stay like that, but when the back of my neck itches, I have to f*cking say something. I see her lips twitch and turn up into a content smile. Like she just won some battle she’s been fighting for a long damn time.

“You called me Emma.” She says it quietly, and almost like she’s questioning whether I said it or not.

Personally, I hadn’t even f*cking noticed.

Regardless, what’s the big deal?

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

Her hand stretches over to mine and she squeezes.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Stiles.”

And that’s that.

“Well, all right then.” I start up the car and pull out into traffic. Just like any other f*cking day of the year.



THE END, for now.