Mine Would Be You (70)

“Are you sure you don’t have a star on the Hollywood walk of fame I don’t know about?” He squints playfully, and I swat his chest.

“Seriously, I’m sorry.”

“Seriously, Nina, if I could tell the entire world, I would.” He leans down, lips brushing my temple. My chest feels like it’s going to explode.

Before I can respond, Harper chimes in because she can’t go three seconds without eavesdropping. “Do you guys need to get a room already?”

I roll my eyes as Jackson says hello to her and Sloan, kissing them both on the cheek. Something about Jackson treating my friends as well as he treats me makes my heart pump.

But I meet Harper’s gray eyes. “Just for that, I’m telling mom about Roman and that you’re dating.”

“You wouldn’t.”

I raise my cup. “Watch me.” I grab Jackson’s hand. “Well, let’s go inside so you can say hi to my parents and get that over with. I also have something for you.”

“Is it a room, like Harper suggested? Because I’d be interested.”

My hair flies over my shoulder when I look back at him. “Shameless.” I drag him inside.

He tugs me back slightly, his chest coming into contact with my back, as my heart careens in my chest, and I feel his breath on my cheek. “You like it.”

My mouth is dry, and it takes me a second to recover, to figure out how to put one foot in front of the other. “Behave,” I mutter, and he grins like he never said anything at all, and I resume pulling him forward.

As soon as I can see the kitchen, my mom’s eyes land on Jackson and she brightens immediately, pulling him forward out of my hand and into a hug. Dad watches amusedly from his spot next to the fridge, mostly because that’s where the beer and whiskey are stocked, and he likes to be prepared.

“It’s good to see you. I’m so glad you came,” my mom exclaims and lets him out of her death grip.

He smiles, reaching out to shake my dad’s hand. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Thank you again for having me. I told Nina I didn’t realize I was dating a celebrity.”

My dad scoffs, a smile playing at his lips as I lean against the table. “Welcome to the club. Took me a few years to realize I was too.”

My mom glares playfully at him. “¡Callete, mi amor! Please, make yourself at home. Make sure Nina gets you anything you need—”

“Mamá,” I exclaim, and she just winks at me, bringing a chuckle out of everyone watching us in the kitchen.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to get settled. But I’ll be back to introduce you to everyone.” She ushers everyone out of the kitchen, leaving my cheeks aflame yet again as my dad just smiles and grabs another beer.

I think my mom could run the world if she wanted to, and no one would dare argue with her.

“Good to see you, Jackson. Glad you could come,” Dad says, patting him on the back before heading out back.

“Have I mentioned I love your parents?”

I roll my eyes, setting my cup down on the counter. “Yeah, once or twice.”

I open the fridge, suddenly terrified he’ll hate that I attempted to make this sweet tea, and I hesitate before telling myself to man up, because it’s sweet tea for god sakes. I wrap my hand around the handle and bring it out, setting it on the counter. When I turn around, his eyes are on me as he leans on the counter with his arms crossed, his tan skin a nice contrast to the simple black T-shirt he wears, and the easy confidence of his flows off him.

“I made, or attempted to make, sweet tea.” I tug on the inside of my lip. “I’ve been texting Veah, and she tried to tell me how your mom did it, and I’m sure it’s not your mom’s, but I wanted you—”

He breaks out into a full-on show-stopping grin.

Dimples on full display as he pulls my hand and tugs me closer to him. Both of his hands cup my face, and my entire body is fluttering as his thumb moves over my beet red cheeks. Those blue eyes flash with appreciation as they flicker over my face. He looks at me like I’m everything and then some.

I swallow dryly as my eyes flicker around, making sure that no one is in the kitchen. Because when he leans down and presses his lips to mine, I practically fall into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. Everything he does sets me on fire, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. It’s like he strikes a match and I walk right into the flames every time. Low heat unfurls everywhere, from the pit of my stomach to where my fingers press into his lower back.

A low sound escapes his lips, and my heart stops. Before it turns into something it shouldn’t, he pulls back but presses his lips to mine three times in quick succession, which takes my breath away all the same.

“Thank you.” His thumbs tap my cheeks lightly. He starts to say something else but clears his throat, and I’m worried. I go to ask, but he gives me a soft shake of his head. “Later. Promise.”

I go to argue, but voices from the party grow louder as they enter the house. I hand him his cup and move to stand next to him, attempting to create some appropriate space.

Instead, he wraps his free arm around me and pulls me in front of him. And then he tucks his hand into the front pocket of my jean shorts.

It takes everything in me to not take that hand and pull him far, far away from the people at this house to somewhere else, where it’s just us.