Scared of Beautiful (Scared #1)(3)


“Loaned it. I get it completely when I graduate,” he answers. Turning to me he offers a further explanation, which I am grateful for, because I am fast feeling like the third wheel on this excursion. “My dad’s car, he bought it the year I was born, been fixing it ever since. It’s kind of his pride and joy.”

After squeezing past the front seat into the two door car with the barely there back seat, and being further impeded by the presence of a rather large subwoofer, I bring my knees to my chest and decide that comfort is not possible in this car. It’s clearly not designed for a third wheel. We drive off campus to the Clever Bean, which happens to be my favorite place in the world. The Clever Bean is one of Providence’s oldest bookstores converted to a glorious café. It is set over a huge two levels, the second of which is a galley level with a floor to ceiling bookshelf that I’m sure houses every single one of my favorite books. That galley is strewn with a mixture of beanbags and old chaise lounges and sofas, the perfect place to chill out with a good book. The lower level is an eclectic mix of retro ‘60’s, ‘70’s, and ‘80’s furniture, pod shaped chairs, lime green worn couches, and paisley armchairs with regal backs. A large, expansive counter and coffee bar spans the length of the back wall, and the side walls are covered in paintings and shelves packed with manuscripts and CDs, where indie artists of all sorts can advertise and sell their wares. Brown also has a campus bar, but that’s generally where the less sophisticated members of the student body go to hang out. The neon lights, pool tables, and massive cocktail bar with its scantily clad co-eds tending to it are my idea of hell.

“Nice.” Jackson nods his approval as we make our way to an L shaped lounge towards the back corner. My phone flashes for about the twentieth time since we left the campus. I decide that it’s probably a good idea to check who’s so desperate to speak to me. MOM flashes onto the screen, the backlight turning on and off in tandem with the phone’s vibration. I contemplate picking it up but decide against it. He’s clearly been giving her a hard time again. He’s probably drunk or threatening her again. I push the thought from my mind. I can’t deal with this now. Fresh start. Fresh start. I repeat the mantra over and over again until it sinks in sufficiently enough to push the concern away.

“You don’t have to ignore me, you know.” The voice shakes me from my attempts at self-counselling. Jackson is sitting across from me, his legs flung casually onto the coffee table in front of him as he settles into the sofa’s corner. “But just so you know, I’m awesome. Your loss.” He shrugs his shoulders indifferently.

I glare at him. He is an infuriating smart ass, and he knows exactly how to antagonize me too. Not that I would ever admit that. Jade is ordering coffee and lunch and he glances in her direction. I find my eyes wandering to the bulge created by his almost too tight jeans and his casual pose. I snap myself out of it, just one moment too late, and look up to see Jackson eyeing me with a smug smile on his face. I do the only thing I can at this point. I glare back at him. “If there’s anything that catches your eye or that you’re curious about, just say it. I’m happy to respond accordingly.” His smug smile inches up a notch. He is f-ucking intolerable!

“Some things don’t change, do they Jackson?” Jade arrives back in time to catch the tail end of the comment. She looks at him with mock disapproval, a small smile playing at her lips. “Don’t pay attention to him, Maia. He thinks he’s God’s gift to women.” He smiles at her happily. They look like they have that kind of unfailing friendship, which transcends time and distance and everything in between. If they were ever to become a couple, they would truly be enviable. Hell, even their names are melodic together. Jackson and Jade. Their children could be Justin and Janet. The ever so slight pang of jealousy assaults my chest again. We chat for the next two hours about everything from music to cars to school. There are parts where Jade and Jackson tell stories about their childhood and friends, and I find myself enjoying the happy banter. They make every effort to try not to exclude me wherever possible.

After ingesting four brioche, five slices of chocolate pizza, and way too many assorted macaroons, washed down by enough caffeine to make us insomniacs for the next decade at least, the three of us leave the Clever Bean. I once again make an excuse to occupy the back seat in Jackson’s Mustang for the trip back to Brown. Jackson opens the car door when we arrive at the dorm, and offers a hand to help me untangle my limbs from the tight space. He smiles down at me, and I notice that he has one of those smiles where every part of his face smiles along with his mouth. His eyes turn up at the corners, his cheekbones round out, his single dimple makes an appearance on his left cheek, and his lips part open ever so slightly, adding just the right amount of cockiness to the mix. He may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a hot one.

Jade and I walk into our dorm room just as the afternoon sky is disappearing to give way to night. The view of the iridescent sky from our window leaves me breathless every time. “So hurry up and ask.” Jade’s voice shatters through my daydream.

“Ask what?” I say, bending down to help collect the books she threw across our room at the sight of Jackson earlier. She eyes me off with a ‘whatever, like you don’t know’ stare. I choke back a laugh with my reply. “Seriously what? I have no idea what you’re asking me.”

“Jackson” she deadpans. “Every female I know asks about him at least once. So why haven’t you?” She seems bored with the idea that women seem to want throw themselves at him, and doesn’t wait for my response. “Look, you’re my friend so I’ll tell you the way it is without the sugar coated shit I feed the rest of the bobble heads. He hasn’t been interested in women for a while. He’s not the kind of long-term guy a girl like you needs. You’d be wasting your time. Players like Jackson are not for nice girls, even if he is awesome, too.” How does she know what I need?

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