Scared of Beautiful (Scared #1)(30)
“No!” I reply fiercely. “You were obviously hurting and upset. That’s your past. That’s not the Jackson I know and love.” The words fly out of my mouth before my brain has processed them. In the pitch black of a deserted stretch of highway, I have just told my newly labeled boyfriend, whom I met less than two weeks ago that I love him, on our way to visiting his parents, ex-girlfriend and their child.
Jackson lifts my chin and brings both hands up to cup my face. “I think there is a very strong probability that I may be in love with you too.” Jackson looks at me endearingly. A wave of relief washes over me. Jackson’s eyes meet mine and the world stands still. As he brings his lips to mine, the headlights of the cab illuminate us. “Good timing, *,” Jackson groans.
Pulling up to Jackson’s house, I can see why he’s so humble. The house is small and quaint. It’s a clad and wood cottage, with a red tiled roof and a sweet country garden lining both sides of the wraparound porch. A weathered love swing sits to the right of the red front door. Jackson apologized profusely in the cab for not saying something to stop Emmanuel’s assholish behavior, but explained that they have history, and contrary to what I saw, he’s actually a good friend.
The lights along the porch are lit. We make our way quietly through the front door and down the narrow hallway to a room at the back of the house. I expect Jackson’s old room to be plastered with bikini models, or worse. But apart from a few framed vintage car posters, the walls are a crisp white with black curtains and timber blinds. The linen is also white, and it feels way too clinical and clean to belong to a male. We curl up together on his bed, clothes and all, bodies pressed against each other. Jackson’s steady breathing eventually lulls me to sleep.
After the energy we expended on the plane, and the frustration we released after the situation with Emmanuel, Jackson and I sleep well into the morning. I wake up to what the New Yorker in me feels is unseasonably warm fall weather. The bed is sans Jackson, and I immediately feel nervous at the thought of walking around a strange house alone. Just as I’m contemplating staying put for the foreseeable future, Jackson walks in with just his jeans perched low on his hips, and a mug of coffee.
“My hero,” I say reaching for the cup. “You always seem to bring me coffee. How did you know I need it to wake up properly?’ I ask.
“Morning, beautiful,” he replies moving the cup away from my lips and replacing it with a delicious kiss. “Elementary, sweet Maia,” he grins. “I noticed that you were a bit fiery in the mornings, until you had a coffee, and then you seemed to cheer up. Logical.”
“Ever consider that maybe I cheered up because I was having coffee with you?” I tease. “Not that I would ever admit to that….”
Jackson takes the coffee cup out of my hand and places it on the nightstand before laying back and pulling me on top of him. “So, what you’re saying is…I make you happy?” he says, sweeping my hair behind my ear.
“You do,” I reply honestly. His mouth meets mine in a series of soft kisses, which threaten to evolve quickly into something much more. I push myself up and grab the mug.
I change quickly. Given the haphazardness of our decision to come to Atlanta, my clothing choices are limited by what I had time to pack. Jeans and a tank, or jeans and a sweater.
“My parents should be back from church in about an hour.” Jackson says, clearly distracted as he watches me pull my jeans up.
Our experience in the plane flashes through my mind and my heart stops. “Jackson, did we use…” I trail off, almost afraid to utter the words.
Grinning, Jackson pulls a condom from his jeans pocket. “Always,” he replies coyly.
I grin too, relieved. “Do those jeans come with built in prophylactics?” I ask cheekily.
“Well, I figure being around you, I never really know when the need will arise. Plane, case in point,” Jackson replies, feigning seriousness.
As I’m about to jump Jackson again, we hear the front security screen bangs shut. “Must be home early,” Jackson states matter-of-factly, reaching for my hand.
I’m so nervous to be in this situation. I keep thinking I should have thought this through before we left Providence. Jackson walks behind me, holding my waist in the narrow hallway. He’s so close to me, it’s intoxicating.
It isn’t Jackson’s parents at the door, it’s Jade. She comes up and grabs me into a fierce hug. I hug her back, and she smiles. “I’m so glad you came,” she gushes. “Hate to say it but I kinda missed you.”
“Yeah well, after who’s now sleeping in your bed, I missed you too,” I say rolling my eyes. She raises an eyebrow. We sit down in the kitchen, and Jackson makes us scrambled eggs and toast, while I fill her in on the demon seed now occupying her space. “Why didn’t you call me?” I ask, slightly wounded.
“I made the decision so quickly. I had so much to catch up on with Shana. College will always be there, she’s not staying here for long.” Jade looks a little awkward as she continues. “Speaking of Shana, do you want to see her?” She looks towards Jackson.
He looks down, pretending not to have heard. As he walks over to the table with the plates, he finally answers. “If Maia’s okay with it.” He looks directly at me. Me? Why me? I didn’t come here to have Jackson throw all his difficult decisions in my direction.