Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)(80)

“What’s that?”

“This.” She motions between us, and the entire mood of the evening changes for me. Just like that. I’ve gone from angry and about to give her a piece of my mind to take with her on her way out the door, to… I don’t know exactly how to describe it.

Hopeful?

“And what exactly is this?” I mimic her gesture between the two of us. Even though I don’t know what the f*ck to call it at this particular point in time, I know there’s something.

I felt it.

She felt it.

I know she f*cking felt it.

“This is real, Jackson.”

My blood stops, mid-motion, inside me. She’s not fooling me one bit, though. I know she pulled my first name out like that on purpose.

Element of surprise, ladies and gentlemen. Works every time.

I’m fighting the walls I’ve worked pretty damn hard to put up with her.

“Am I supposed to believe you?” I don’t want to. I want the wall to stay intact, quite honestly. I like it that way. Everything is very black and white with the wall up.

With every look she gives me, every touch of her hand on mine, she chips away at that shit.

“You know all my tells.” She makes it difficult. Her eyes don’t stray away from mine. She’s either playing it cool or she’s got nothing to hide now. The fidgeting is gone, and all her f*cking hair is in her face.

“Maybe I need more than tells. Hell, maybe what I need is…” I don’t know if saying it out loud is smart or not. Jesus, I don’t even know if I know how to say this shit out loud.

“What, Jackson?” This time, my name is a whisper. The word is barely audible. But the way my name leaves her lips this time, I don’t know. She knows what I f*cking need.

She’s always known.

It’s officially “shit or get off the pot” time.

So I take a step toward her and swallow down the goddamn walls.

“You.”

Damn. You’d think I’d choke on the words, but with her, it’s like I’ve been waiting a lifetime to say them. And f*ck me, it’s out there. Nothing to do but wait for a sign. I mean, hell, either she’s into this or she’s not. Right?

“I want you, too.” She says it like she’s been waiting, too. Like it’s the easiest f*cking thing in the world to say.

That’s my f*cking sign.

“You sure this time, Green?”

I step closer to her. She nods as she gets up to take a step backward. A complete and f*cking contradiction to what she’s saying.

“’Cause I don’t wanna hear any of this professionalism bullshit halfway to hard.”

I was more than halfway last time. Let’s not *foot around that f*ckery.

“I’m sure,” she breathes out.

I open up a few buttons on my shirt as I take another few steps in her direction. Anticipation hasn’t always been my strong suit. “Why are you f*cking backing away from me then?”

Maybe she’s playing me.

Maybe she’s hasn’t worked her way through this particular f*cking scenario, and it’s throwing her off her game.

She shakes her head as she backs up again. “I’m not backing away from you.”

Maybe I don’t give a f*ck either way.

“Then what do you call it?”

She’s at the hallway now. She turns her head slightly, then smiles when she meets my eyes again. “Leading.”

When her back hits the wall, I close the gap between us.

She seems nervous but in a good way.

We’re close. I can smell her shampoo of the day. I can’t say I know the scent off the top of my f*cking head or anything, but it’s inviting. It’s making me wanna do things to her I haven’t done in a long damn time.

“You teasing me, Green?”

A slight shake of her head is all she gives me.

I slide a hand around the base of her neck.

“You?” Like she’s really gotta ask me.

“No such luck,” I tell her. “And Connor?”

“What about him?”

“You sure there isn’t some lingering doubt about cutting the poor guy loose?”

She doesn’t hesitate when she tells me, “Definitely not.”

“You aren’t gonna change your mind about that?” It’s been known to happen.

Green looks me straight in the eyes when she shakes her head. “Nope.”

I’m not an idiot, despite what a lot of people think. I know I’m gambling here. Typically, I like better odds, but quite frankly, I’m f*cking tired of second guessing this woman.

At some point, I’ve gotta go with my gut.

And my gut tells me it’s time to let shit happen.

So with that, all the adrenaline, anger, and confusion from tonight is gone. Instead of entertaining the idea that this is a bad idea, I forgo the formalities and dip into a kiss that says I believe her.

We’ve kissed. It’s not like it’s rocket science or anything, but this isn’t curiosity or me being “interested” because she’s new and a mystery or a damn she’s sexy kinda thing.

It’s all or nothing. Everything’s out there. No hidden agendas or conspiracy theories. No Walker lurking, or Anonymous. No boy-toys or family bullshit. This is up close and personal with all the suspicions and questions and pent-up frustration coming through in one fell swoop.