Mine Would Be You (47)

I curl in beside him, clicking play on the movie that I didn’t finish last night on my laptop. But I can barely focus on anything as I lay there, tucked into my dark room, petting Jenko’s soft, calico fur.

My mind is only on tomorrow. The little gift I got Jackson is resting on my vanity, my outfit is hanging up already. I can’t wait to see the cheeky smile grow on his face or the blond curls catch in the sunlight that always surrounds him.

And I can’t stop running through the endless possibilities. The idea of kissing him, the possibility of feeling his fingertips on my arm or my cheek or wherever he decides to touch me, sends a wave of heat that leaves no part of my body untouched.

Because I do like him. I really like him.





I wish I could say that I was fine.

That I wasn’t pacing around my room with my fourth cup of coffee in my hands or that I hadn’t been watching the clock tick down every single minute until it reached two. Or that I hadn’t questioned my outfit a million times.

However, that would all be a lie.

Porque estoy jodidamente volviéndome loca. Because I’m going fucking crazy.

I wait slowly, painfully, for three to roll around, the time that Jackson said he’d meet me at my apartment. Turning to the mirror, I glance over myself one last time. A deep red dress that billows to mid-thigh, with a lace top, and double straps over my shoulders. It’s perfect. I hope. I reapply some mascara in the mirror and run a hand through my loose curls that have grown quickly, hitting right above the straps of the dress, and slip my feet into white Vans. After a few deep breaths and adjusting my bag, my phone dings.

Jackson: Your favorite fool has arrived downstairs.

I take one last deep breath in the mirror before heading downstairs. It’s the perfect July day from what my weather app says. Low 80s and partly cloudy skies is practically perfect for the city. And hopefully, for whatever is planned.

The sun hits me instantly as I bound through my apartment and step outside. The rays reach out and fan over the tops of my shoulders, leaving me warm.

The sight of Jackson hits me even harder.

He turns just as I exit, with his hands tucked into his shorts and the top of his white shirt unbuttoned. The short, blond curls sway in the warm breeze that weaves its way through the massive buildings. Instantly, I’m greeted by his radiant smile that sends a flush of heat to my cheeks and a flare deep in my stomach, leaving me breathless when both his dimples pop.

As I move closer, his deep blue eyes grow bright and clear, excitement flashing in them, moving over every part of my body slowly, like the waves of the ocean, the ones that draw you in and pull you under in the most addicting way.

“Hi, sunshine.” His voice is husky, and the sound practically sinks into my skin.

My lips quirk up. “Happy birthday.”

“Well, thank you,” he says. His eyes latch onto the dress I have on. A few seconds pass, his eyes lingering on every inch of skin before they flick back up to mine. The simple look takes my breath away. “Shall we get this date started?”

“We shall. Lead the way.”

Jackson holds out his elbow, and I loop my arm through his, saving his gift for later as he leads me down to the subway. We step into a train, and before I can say anything, he cuts me off. “Don’t even ask. Just wait patiently.”

I sigh as we stand side by side on the crowded subway train. His smile relaxes from a bright grin to a soft, warm one, and even with the Sunday crowd around us, those blue eyes never stray far from my own. Somehow, on a crowded subway, I am blind to everyone else but him.

With each passing stop that we don’t get off, any guesses I have are pointless. The subway ride ends after twenty minutes when Jackson pulls me off in Lennox Hill. I furrow my brows as he just pulls me along with a smile on his face.

Jackson leads us outside, back into the warm sun, and now, my only guess is something to do with Central Park. Because that’s the direction we start walking in. After a few blocks, the greenery starts to peek through. The buildings are shorter, the crowds are bigger—especially on a beautiful day—and the tops of the trees are visible.

Once we’re on a path, leading us—or me, since I’m the clueless one here—god knows where, Jackson turns, continuing his strut backwards. I raise an eyebrow as we fall under the cover of the trees, the sunlight peeking through every few steps.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask. He peeks over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure he’s not walking into anyone, and every time he turns back around, his curls flow in the soft breeze.

He’s only a few steps ahead of me when he stops completely, excitement sparkling in his eyes as he watches me for a second. “I can’t decide if I want to tell you or surprise you.”

I step off to the side and pull him with me, out of the way of others. I only hold his hand for a second, but it’s soft and calloused all at once, and I want to memorize every line, every scar, on his palm when I have the time.

“Please tell me, pretty, pretty please?” I say adjusting my bag on my shoulder as I smile up at him, as convincing as I can.

He narrows his eyes playfully, considering me. “No. I’m gonna surprise you.”

“Jackson,” I whine, but he just laughs at my distress.

He steps closer. My breathe hitches in my throat for a second, my eyes trained on him until I’m sent into darkness when his hands cover my eyes. I swallow hard, trying not to think about the way the top of his chest touches my bare shoulders as he slowly walks us forward.