Mine Would Be You (52)

She rolls her eyes, something that shouldn’t turn me on, but it does. Every time. Shortly, I have whiskey in my hand as she holds a glass of wine in hers. I stand up, setting Jenko down and moving closer to her. Her cheeks turn pink instantly.

I tuck a loose wave of her hair behind her ear. “So, you made soup just for me?”

She takes a sip, and my eyes latch onto her lips. “Yes, I hope that’s okay. I hope you like it. I also set out Love & Basketball to watch later. If you want, I mean. I know it’s your favorite.”

My chest constricts because it means the world and more that she went out of her way to do this, to do anything for me. I haven’t told her anything yet. Haven’t told her that Myles ignoring every single one of my phone calls or texts is affecting me more than I’d like. That I’m losing someone I considered a brother, a rock, and a constant in my life. All because I failed to be honest and he failed to listen.

And on top of that, my dad called me this week, on his way to the hospital for tests.

When I was younger, my dad had a heart attack and has had to be careful ever since. He said his chest had been tight and he had trouble breathing for a bit, so he’s just going in for a checkup like usual. Said everything would be fine. But he let it slip that this isn’t his first checkup, and that hasn’t left my mind. It feels like I should know what to do, now that I’m older. But I don’t. I just have to trust him when he says it’s okay.

Even if it doesn’t feel that way.

“It’s perfect, Nina,” I say, and she nods, moving to get bowls out and spoons. “Go sit down.”

She glances at me. “Stop it, just let me.”

I step forward again, grabbing the ladle out of her hand, holding onto her skin longer than needed. “Stop arguing with me and go sit down. Please.” We stare off for a second longer before I win out. She steps past me, gently brushing her hand on my back as she does before taking a seat.

That slight touch lingers over my shirt like a burn, and I love it.

I spoon out two bowls worth and slide her a bowl before taking a seat next to her. Her eyes roam over my face, a hint of worry playing out over her features. We eat the first few bites in silence, and it’s delicious. It tastes better knowing she did it for me.

“Is everything okay?” Her voice is soft as she draws up her knee to lean on.

After a slow bite, I answer. “I’m not sure.”

I’m hesitant to tell her about Myles. Simply because I don’t want her to look for a way out or find a reason not to continue this. We’ve only just begun dating, and she’s finally letting her guard down. After all, she made the first move. Leaned in to kiss me first.

I’ve wanted to kiss her since the night from the bar. Repeatedly until it was branded on me. But I needed her to want it as badly as I did. I don’t want this, my own issue, to be something that pushes her away.

She studies me. “You can tell me anything, Jackson. Even if it has to do with Myles.” I realize that as much as I’m starting to learn everything about her, she is also doing the same. She has an uncanny ability to read me.

“It’s not just him. If anything, he’s the smaller problem. He just keeps ignoring me. I’m sent straight to voicemail and no text is ever answered. It’s stupid and exhausting.” I let it all out, unable to keep it in around her, not when she’s so willing to listen. She takes a bite, waiting for me to continue. “But really, it’s not him. It’s my dad.”

“What’s going on?”

“He’s in the hospital for some tests.” I take a few bites, letting the information sit between us.

“For?”

“His heart. He had a heart attack when I was younger. Had to be careful about his diet and everything. Gets test done pretty often. But he said that this was the second round of testing in four weeks, and that,” I shake my head, “that isn’t normal for him.”

I realize how easy it is to talk to her. To tell her everything that’s weighing down on me. She pushes her empty bowl away, leaning her elbow on the counter as she sits next to me.

“And when I ask if everything’s okay, to him, to my mom, to my siblings, they say it’s fine. That it’s just routine, but it isn’t. And it pisses me off.” I sigh, not wanting to be mad but not knowing what else to feel. “They don’t want to tell me the truth, maybe because I’m so far away or maybe because I’m the oldest, but they keep downplaying it and keeping me out of the loop.”

Nina is fully facing me now as I frustratedly run a hand over my head. “Have you told them that, that you feel pushed out?”

I laugh dryly. “No. I’ve always been the optimistic one; nothing ever gets to me. And I don’t want to burden them with more shit on top of whatever is going on. I don’t want to be a burden. If I’m the one they can come to, to feel better, then that’s what I’ll be.”

Suddenly, her hand is on my arm. Steady. Her fingers wrap around my forearm as those brown eyes stare at me, warmly, filled with something fierce but soft. “Jackson. You aren’t a burden. How you feel is not a burden.”

I don’t say anything. Just let her words sink into my skin.

She scoots closer on the stool, her grip firmer now. “You don’t have to be the shoulder to cry on all the time. At least not with me.”