Mine Would Be You (100)
“You suck,” I whine, and push back into his chest as snow falls into my eyes, but the laugh bubbling in my chest escapes regardless.
But when I pushed back, he lost his footing a bit and starts to slip. I reach out, grabbing his head to try to steady him, but instead, we both end up in the snow, bright laughter spilling out of us as we sit up. He grabs my leg, right above where my boot ends and pulls me closer to him, dragging me through the fluff.
Jackson reaches up and brushes the flakes off my face. Off my cheeks and my nose and my lips. I watch him do it, enamored with even the simplest of actions that he does, and smile. Even with the gloves, I feel the familiar singe of his touch on my skin and into my veins.
“I can’t believe this year is almost over,” I mumble, scooting closer to him. “Are you doing okay today?”
I look up at him, snowflakes landing on his eyelashes, and he blinks a few times to clear them. I’m sure he misses his dad, and I know there’s nothing I can do about that. He was a little upset when we woke up this morning. He didn’t say anything, and I think having his family there helped. But he was up throughout the night. Every once in a while, he’d pull me closer, and I could feel the deep breaths he would take.
He looks at me. “Yeah. Better than I thought. I miss him, and I wish he was here. Wish he got to meet you and your family, but he wouldn’t want me to waste my time being upset.” He lets out a sad chuckle, and I nod, holding his hand in the snow.
“Well, it’s okay to be sad if you want to be.”
Jackson shakes his head, his eyes never leaving mine. “I don’t want to be. Not right now. Losing my dad was the worst part of the year. But my favorite part of this year would be you, Nina.” He cups my cheeks, and even in the cold, I can feel my eyes prickling with tears.
“Yeah, well, mine would be you too,” I say softly, surrounded by the snow and by Jackson.
He smiles, the dimples showing in his cheeks as he leans forward and kisses me. It’s quiet and soft, like he is, but it’s also blistering and sends little sparks over my skin and into my bones like he always does.
“I love you,” he says against my lips.
I smile. “I love you more.”
Jackson made me believe in love again. That it was pure and warm and everything anyone has ever dreamed about. He’s healed almost all my scars from the past, erasing the burns and doing everything he can to make sure a new one will never touch me.
I know that love isn’t easy, that it’s not always smooth sailing. That life isn’t always bright, that sometimes it’s hard to find the sun. Like when he lost his dad. Things were hard, but he was open with me when he could be, let me be there for him when he couldn’t talk about it. I’ve learned that love isn’t just the highs but being there through the lows.
I think we both learned that everyone has to let a little light in sometimes. I think that love is finding someone who makes that challenge just a little bit easier. Someone who makes life just a little bit brighter.
I just know that my favorite part of every year to come will always be Jackson Ross.
Two years later
“You ready?” Jackson asks, kissing me swiftly on the cheek as he grabs my bag from the bed, even though I am perfectly capable of grabbing my own bag.
I nod, sticking my phone in my back pocket and pulling my sweater on as I follow him out of the bedroom and into the bright living room of his—or our—tall apartment. The city is on full display as he makes sure everything is off and packed for the week, and I grab the leash hanging over the dining room barstool.
“Hi, bubs, you ready to go?” I grin, leaning down to Bane, whose six-month-old, lanky, already huge body immediately starts shaking with excitement. He shoots up and rubs his head into my chest, and a laugh bubbles out as I scratch his ears.
We’re heading to the Hamptons for the week. It’s the day after Christmas, and we figured what better place to spend New Year’s. All our friends will be joining us in a few days. Jenko is at my parents’ house. As he’s getting older, the only two places he can truly stand are here and their home, so we don’t drag him to the Hamptons anymore, but he’s always with us in spirit. But Bane, the six-month-old Cane Corso that we got on my birthday in September, loves it there. Loves it anywhere we go.
I snap his leash on, and he pads by my side excitedly, Jackson watching us with a smile as he twirls the keys to the Jeep. I grab the two water bottles on the counter, my eyes flicking up to him. “Can we stop for snacks?”
He raises a brow, but when Bane lets out a small bark in conjunction with my idea, he just laughs. “I need gas, so yes, anything for you two. I’m outnumbered anyway.” He chuckles, and my smile widens.
“You and Jenko outnumber me. It’s only fair.”
I walk past him, patting his butt on the way, and hold open the front door for him as he carries the bags. Bane trots happily next to us, his floppy ears moving with every step as we head down to the parking garage. Even now, a few months later, I’m not over the shock of Jackson’s surprise. We’d both been talking about getting a dog for a bit, but I never expected him to surprise me with a trip to a shelter that had received puppies.
Jackson had walked me blindly into that shelter, and when I heard the yips and yells and he uncovered my eyes, I practically tackled him to the ground with excitement. This little three-month-old puppy came right over to us, placing his head in my hand, and that was the moment we left with Bane.