Mine Would Be You (87)

Jackson, well, he just made me feel like I was home.

That night, when we went to his room and watched a movie on his laptop, I pressed my lips against his to say all the things I couldn’t say out loud yet. Kissing him enough that I hoped he knew.

“I think you should stay. Poze can go without you this week.” Jackson’s voice brings me back to the present.

“I think my job needs me, unfortunately.” I roll over so I’m on my stomach, looking up at him.

“Well, can you tell them you have a needy boyfriend?”

My cheeks warm. “Boyfriend, huh?”

He grins sheepishly, his leg brushing mine under the covers. “Yeah, I never asked you. That was rude of me, wasn’t it, to assume?”

No, I want to say. Please assume I’m yours because I am. All yours, Jackson Ross, and have been for longer than I even knew.

“I thought it was hot, but I guess I wouldn’t mind some groveling either.” I shrug, feigning boredom, and both dimples appear in his cheeks.

Jackson turns on his side, his eyes never straying from mine. “You’ve been my girlfriend in my head for a while, so I figured it was time.”

I swirl a circle on his arm with my finger, acting as if my heart isn’t about to beat out of my chest at his words. “Aw, you think about me?”

He rolls his eyes, and I’m thrilled to see the lightest dusting of pink on his cheeks. “Oh, shut up. You’re a brat.” In response, I gently flick his chest, and he grabs my hand and squeezes it.

“Yeah, well, you still think about me, so.” I stick out my tongue playfully. He pulls me closer with the hand he holds, turning back onto his back until I’m resting lazily on his chest.

“Like I said,” he starts quietly, his nose inches from mine, “brat.” And punctuates the word with a kiss on my nose. After a moment I lean forward and peck him on the lips before resting my chin on my hands. Taking him all in. Happy to see that sadness isn’t the first thing I see in his blue eyes.

“When are you gonna come back. Do you know yet?”

He shrugs, and I feel the movement underneath me. “I’m not sure yet. Maybe a week or two.”

My heart beats painfully, and even though I understand it, I still miss him in New York. Miss having him around all the time. I try not to let it show on my face, but he sees right through me, in the most Jackson way possible. “Don’t worry, I won’t be leaving you alone when I get back.”

A smile takes over my face whether I want it to or not. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I gently tap his chest before I sit up, reaching for my coffee again. Before I can take a sip, he grabs it out of my hand and sits up. “Hey! I need that,” I pout.

He raises a brow and taps my lips with his finger, taking my breath away, before holding out his free hand. “Come on, I’m making you breakfast before your flight.” I smile and crawl out after him, quickly slipping on a sweatshirt and following him downstairs. The house is quiet, and I don’t want to leave in a few hours.

I catch up to him and grab my mug from his hands, a smug smile on his face as we enter the kitchen. He starts pulling things out of cabinets left and right, and I watch from the sidelines at first, sipping on the still hot coffee. After a moment, I find his phone on the counter and turn on some music, low enough not to wake everyone else but loud enough that we can both hear it.

“French toast and bacon okay? It was my dad’s favorite. Figured I’d make enough for everyone,” he says softly, handing me a bowl and eggs.

I lean up on my tiptoes and kiss him on the cheek. “Sounds perfect.”

Stepping to the side, I find a clear spot on the counter and crack the eggs into the bowl before tossing the shells. He quickly starts the bacon on the griddle, and the smell, along with the coffee, immediately fills the kitchen. We work quietly for the most part, aside from the occasional humming along to the song or the slight clang of a pan, but soon enough the French toast is frying in the pan and the pile of bacon is growing.

Veah appears with curls piled on top of her head in a bun, and in seconds Mateo is behind her, and he pulls her in and messes up her hair. She frowns. “God, you suck.”

“You love me,” Mateo says, and she rolls her eyes, ignoring him.

“Morning,” Veah mumbles and kisses Jackson on the cheek and pats my arm as she passes. She starts pulling out plates and silverware and puts them on the table in the other room. “Mateo, make yourself useful and get the creamer out and whatever else—syrup too.”

“Bossy.” He shakes his head but gives me a smile as he does what she asked.

“Is Mom up?” Jackson asks, flipping the bacon and then leaning against the counter as I take another sip and check my flight for the fifth time.

“Yeah, she’ll be down in a second,” Mateo answers, and Jackson nods, taking the second round of French toast off the pan, sprinkling it with powdered sugar, and covering it so it stays warm with the rest.

I carry the plates that are ready into the dining room, the first stack of bacon, some fruit, and waters.

“Are you sure you need to leave? You’re much more pleasant than Jackson. I think you should stay,” Veah asks as she takes a seat, and I laugh, a smile spreading on my face.

“I already tried that,” Jackson chimes in, and I roll my eyes.

“I’d love to stay, but I have to go back to work.” I place plates down in front of each seat and lean forward over the chair with a smile.