Mine Would Be You (37)

He turns and leans against the opposite counter.

“After my wonderful sandwich, do you want to watch a movie?” I ask, making an effort this time.

He grins instantly, adding the prepared sandwich to the pan, and I hear the sizzle immediately. “I like that plan. Anything in mind?”

I take a slow sip and watch as his eyes stray to my bare legs and take them in, in a long sweeping glance. “I’ll browse my options when we get upstairs.”

He nods and flips the bread, and I finish my second glass. “The tattoo on your spine, it’s in Spanish. Can I ask what it says?”

I smile. “It’s the song ‘God Only Knows.’ It’s for my parents. My dad and I used to play it every Sunday morning when we’d wake my mom up with breakfast. It just became our thing.”

Jackson moves closer, until he’s right in front of me. “That’s pretty. Not as pretty as you, but pretty.”

His voice is low, and it sends chills down my spine. I swallow, my heart beating wildly in my chest when he looks at me deeply. Jackson reaches up a hand, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. His breath fans lightly over my face as his other hand rests lazily on my thigh. My eyes flick between his darkening eyes, which are flared with heat, and his slightly parted lips.

The tapping of his fingertips on my legs sends small shockwaves over my skin and into my nervous system. Each one is more electric than the last, sending a swell of heat into my lower stomach that floods out to the very ends of my fingertips, and my cheeks flush thoroughly. My hand tightens around the glass in my hand until my fingers turn white as he effectively cages me in. Jackson’s more intoxicating than any sip of alcohol I’ve ever had.

“I hate to do this, but the grilled cheese. It’s gonna burn.” I reach up and pat his cheek softly, hiding a cheeky smile as the smell of toasting bread fills the air.

His eyes lighten up as they flicker with amusement, and he laughs before reaching behind me, pulling the hood up over my head, and tugging the strings tightly until most of my face is covered. I feel the loss of his energy immediately when he pulls his hand off my leg, but I can still feel the soft touch on my skin like a ghost.

I watch through my obstructed view as he cuts the sandwich diagonally on a plate and hands it over to me. I greedily accept it and take the first bite, letting the different cheeses melt on my tongue, and then offer a bite to him.

“I don’t ever want to eat anyone else’s grilled cheese. This is the best one I’ve ever had. Seriously, you’re a master. Have you considered going on Chopped?”

The deep laugh that escapes him echoes around the kitchen. “Mom’s secret recipe,” he says as I pull the hood off my head.

“She must be great.”

“She is.”

I smile and continue eating the best grilled cheese known to man. I offer him a few bites here and there, and then alternate by sipping my third water since coming inside. Jackson stretches his arms above his head, and my eyes go straight to the sliver of skin that appears above the band of his shorts. Thoughts and images start flooding my head all at the mere glance of his skin.

“I’m gonna clean up, take a quick shower, and then you can pick the movie, is that good?” he asks, sipping his own water. I jump down from the counter, landing with a slight stumble on my feet.

“No, I’ll clean up. You go, and I’ll meet you upstairs. You’ve done plenty, and I’m fine,” I say and attempt to push him into the hallway. If he wasn’t making it easy on me, I’m not sure I would’ve moved him at all.

I lean up and place a brief kiss on his cheek, my heart beating wildly, and when I pull back, I see a light dusting of pink on his cheeks again. Jackson shakes his head and holds up his hands in defeat. “Aye, aye captain. I’ll see you upstairs.”

I turn back and walk towards the sink, and through the window I can just make out the flames coming from the bonfire. Everything else is too far away to make out, so I grab the pan and the plate to soap them up as I put away the bread and the butter. Jackson already put away the cheese, as if to hide the recipe.

After everything is properly washed and drying on a dish rack, I soap and rinse the sink before shutting off the water. I know my stash of candies are packed away in my bag upstairs, and that should be enough for us during the movie.

As I shove my phone in my pocket and start to move towards the hallway, the French door opens, letting a gust of air in, and I turn. Myles stands in the kitchen across the counter from me with his arms crossed, and those dark brown eyes are trained on me. When we were growing up as kids to when we started dating, I could always tell when something was wrong or if he was upset. And even after all these years, the tell-tale signs haven’t changed.

His eyebrows are ever-so-lightly furrowed, and his jaw is so tense I see the muscles twitch. His brown eyes go from warm and welcoming to cold and calculating.

My heart skips a beat or two or three as we stand there in an extremely palpable silence, and my teeth dig into the inside of my lip. My palms are sweaty where they rest inside the hoodie’s pocket, and I pull a shaky hand out and run it through my hair.

“Nina, can we talk?”





Painful silence envelops the kitchen.

I want to turn on my heel and run tail-tucked out of this kitchen. The tension between us is like a stretched-out rubber band waiting to snap.