Scared of Beautiful (Scared #1)(22)
“So you think he slipped something into your drink?” I ask.
She nods, “I’m almost sure of it. He took selfies on his phone of the night, as show and tell at the next tennis game. Morgan showed me one, and I didn’t even look conscious. Morgan told me to let it go, said that if my father knew I was planning a smear campaign against Bryce, he’d never forgive me. It would be social suicide. So I dumped him, and within days he and Morgan were an item.”
I hold her shoulders and turn her towards me. “Maia, you need to stop wasting your time thinking about them. Don’t make them f-ucking important in your life by thinking about them. Concentrate on this.” I pull her firmly into me and find her mouth with mine. Even broken like she was today, Maia is f-ucking amazing. And I plan on letting her know that every day until she tells me not to. Her hands slip under my shirt as the kiss deepens. To my absolute surprise, she places her free hand square in my lap. I move her hair aside and trail a series of kisses down her neck. She throws her head back and a small groan escapes her lips. Her nails dig into my back and it feels f-ucking crazy. Her hands cup my crotch and the stitching on my jeans threatens to give way under the strain. “Maia,” I breathe, just before our mouths crash together again. f-uck me, there is nothing I want more than to rip both of our jeans off! I couldn’t care less that we’re on a wharf, hell, there could be a whole goddamn carnival surrounding us and I don’t think I’d give a shit. That’s why it damn near kills me when I pull back.
Maia looks at me questioningly, her breathing still ragged. “First of let me start by saying that I cannot believe I’m about to say this, but we have to stop,” I say as convincingly as I can manage. I adjust my jeans, but right now there’s no comfort to be had in them. As she averts her gaze to the crashing waves of the midnight tide, I try to read her facial expressions. It’s cloudy, and doesn’t help that she says nothing. “Maia,” I say gently.
She looks away into the black depths of the ocean sky and when she turns back to face me, her eyes are distant. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that she built an entire emotional wall around herself in those five seconds when her eyes left mine. “You’re right,” she offers me a small plastic smile before standing and starting back towards the car.
Chapter 11
Maia
What the hell am I doing? Jackson’s behaving like a perfect gentleman, and I’m seriously pissed about that. A disturbing thought causes my skin to crawl. The whore in my father’s penthouse. Was I that whore? Was I really that chick? What the hell am I doing? The ride home from the wharf is excruciating with the silence that blankets us. I let Jackson drive. He stares tentatively ahead, and a few times I think he may say something, but the words don’t eventuate. Not until we arrive back at the campus.
“Maia, are you really going to give me the silent treatment for being a gentleman?” he asks, with a little more annoyance than I expected.
I really and truly don’t know what the next words out of my mouth are supposed to be. Did I lead him on? Yes. Was I really going to have sex with someone I had only known for a few days on a bench at a public wharf? Yes. Was I pissed off that he shut me down? Yes. Was he really just being a gentleman? Yes.
“Jackson, what do you want me to say? I don’t know how to deal with many things, and today was a shit day overall, except for the parts I spent with you. And in truth, I probably had a little too much to drink.” Unfortunately the wharf’s events had well and truly sobered me up. I look up at him hoping that he understands what a complicated chick he managed to get tied up with.
His eyes soften slightly, but overall he still looks relatively pissed off. “Look Maia, I really want to get to know you, I really do. Today’s complications are one thing. That drama I don’t mind, being there for you felt right. But I’m not here to play games, not with you or anybody, no matter how amazing you are. Everybody goes through their shit, but if every time you do, or I give you an opinion, you freeze me out, this is going nowhere fast.”
He takes my hand in his, and god I love how rough they feel. My eyes sting with tears, and I look up, struggling to keep them from breaking free. “Is it bad to say that I don’t trust you?” I ask quietly.
“Old habits die hard I think.” Jackson lifts my chin to meet my gaze. “No, I always prefer the truth. But if you’re not going to bother giving me a chance to earn your trust, tell me now. At least then I can try to walk away. Before this gets deeper than it already is.”
Jackson’s words are soft, but they are loaded with meaning. We both have trust issues. Both well warranted, I’m sure. I’m not good with words, or exposing my feelings to anyone. My defense mechanisms started building themselves when I was a toddler. But I owe this to myself. So I don’t even try to explain what I feel. Instead, I wrap my arms around Jackson’s neck and lean into him. Our lips meet in the softest, most earth shattering kiss imaginable. His hands cup my face gently as the sweet and heated kiss raises the car’s temperature. He grins at me cockily as we finally separate. “You are an unbelievable contradiction, you know that? So chaste, yet so very loaded at the same time.”
I throw my head back and scoff. “Loaded? Umm, that would be you.” I allow my eyes to sweep across his jeans coyly.
“You’re right. Get out so I can walk you up. I have a date with a cold shower to get to,” he huffs exaggeratedly.