Mine Would Be You (35)

“Have fun!” she shouts back, making no move to help me. Luckily for me, Roman joins in and drags her up and off the towel, surprise spreading over her features. I love karma. A few of the guys watch with amusement, two of them collapsing next to Sloan, who is also watching with a smile.

“Jackson, please,” I whine loudly as the first splashes of water hit me from his footsteps. He adjusts, now cradling me as he wades in deeper, and the brisk saltwater splashes onto me. When it hits my butt, I look up at him, pleading. “Let me walk. I promise I’ll swim.”

“Baby, there’s no fun in that,” Jackson says, and my brain short-circuits at his word choice, and I barely even register his arms disappearing until the water starts hitting me.

Luckily, I recover quickly enough to grab his hand as he lets go and pull him in with me. Shock flashes quickly over his face as we get pulled under by a baby wave. My hair sticks to my cheeks as I emerge from the saltwater.

Jackson comes up next to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards him. I splash him, trying to get him away but failing as he captures my other hand.

“Are you having fun so far?” he asks, the water rising and falling around us.

I nod, completely honest. I think back to this morning, waking up in the pale yellow room with Sloan and walking downstairs to Jackson asking how I liked my coffee. And I think about the breakfast Roman made and how Jackson wouldn’t stop playing footsie under the table with me. And how he has done and thought of everything to make me comfortable.

“Yes, it’s great. It’s perfect.”

You’re great, I think to myself and mean it. Because he is.

He smiles, shading me from the sun behind him and despite the cool temperature, I’m warmed just by him being near me. Like my own personal sun.

I think I might like it. Think I might really like him. No matter how much it scares me.

As he goes to respond, Roman shouts in the distance, and we turn our heads, looking toward the sand, and my stomach drops.

“Oh shit.” Jackson sighs. He cracks his neck before pulling us through the water toward the shore.

My hand turns clammy, and I pull it out of his as soon as my feet touch the sand. He turns and looks at me, and I hope he isn’t mad, but when I see Myles and Emma placing beach towels and chairs down, I can’t help but feel the need to retreat.

Jackson gives me a small nod and smiles at me, and the understanding gleam in his eyes tells me he isn’t mad.

But I’m frustrated that I feel like this. That I feel the need to pull away. That Myles showed up at all.

Everything was going great, and now I have no idea what to do or how to act. And I’m so sick of letting Myles have some stupid hold over my life, whether he knows it or not.

With a deep breath, I plaster a smile on my face and try to do everything in my power to not let this ruin my trip. Or ruin what I’m starting to feel for Jackson.





The orange flames from the small fire pit dance in the darkness and music plays from the speaker on a folded-out chair no one is using. All the evidence of dinner has been tossed into neat bags to take inside and throw away, and we all have red solo cups in our hands.

I pull the large Georgia hoodie that Jackson wore the night before tighter against my skin as a breeze comes in off the water, and his arm that’s tossed over my shoulder pulls me in tighter to his chest.

Myles stands directly across from me; I can see his dark skin through the flames that flicker upwards, and I know his eyes are focused on Jackson’s hold on me. Whether Jackson cares or notices I can’t tell, but I look away and stupidly, drunkenly, I lift my cup towards Myles before taking a sip.

He just stares. And I sigh. Stupid, this was so stupid.

Ever since we stepped onto the beach, for me, there’d been an air of awkwardness everywhere I go. Myles’s confusion was clear on his face when we approached him even though he tried to mask it quickly, but I could practically see the questions forming in his head. We played it civil, greeting each other with awkward hugs. Harper barely spoke to him at all, trying to keep calm, and so Sloan had to be the middleman. But as soon as the sun had started to set, I felt the need to drink to fight off the uncomfortable feelings.

Not that it’s really working, but I don’t care.

“I can’t believe we lost today,” Roman exclaims, alluding to the beach volleyball game we had played earlier. It had been all of us girls against six boys, and we had come out victorious, and Roman was still bitter. The other men had left except for two, Leo and Nick, both of whom were seated next to Sloan.

The four of us, including Emma, had made a pretty good team. She was kinder than I thought, and genuine, and really funny. And it kind of made it impossible to hate her, even if I wanted to. Which I didn’t.

“Is someone still upset?” Harper coos sarcastically, and Roman raises an eyebrow as he quickly leans forward to pinch both of her sides, causing her to fall off her chair into the sand. “Dude, come on.”

“Dude.” He mocks playfully as she flips him off, and I can’t help but laugh with Sloan, who’s seated next to me. Roman reaches out a hand to help Harper up, and she takes it with a smile.

I take another sip as my right hand finds warmth by touching Jackson’s back. My hand is slipped under his long sleeve and splayed across his hot skin. The alcohol has created a slight buzz, and I don’t mind it. Because it makes me lower my guard a bit more. Despite Myles being here.