Mine Would Be You (93)

The question draws a laugh from me, and I shake my head. My hands tug him closer, gripping his shirt. “Hmm, maybe.” I sneak my hand under his shirt, feeling his skin on mine.

“How can I make it up to you?”

“Still figuring that out,” I breathe, semi-distracted by his hands and how they haven’t stopped touching me. He steps closer, in between my legs, trailing his hand up the outside of my thighs and up my sides.

I haven’t seen this playful side of him in so long I almost cry on the spot.

“Want me to keep touching you?”

I hum. “That could be a start.”

“Kissing you?”

“Always.”

His dimples appear, and I reach up and poke one, unable to help myself. Jackson leans forward, placing soft kisses on my cheek and my nose, surrounding me as his hands begin to tickle me again. I fight his touch, laughter bubbling out of me as he does it.

“Okay, okay, please. I love you,” I breathe out, still laughing. “I love you.”

He exhales. “Thank god, I was worried.”

I laugh again, unable to stop smiling. “You’re so cheesy.” He leans back, grabbing a cookie from the container behind me, not bothering to defend himself.

“Thank you for everything, Nina. I don’t want to talk about it, but thank you.”

I hop down and hug him tightly to me, not bothering to say anything. “Are you staying over?”

He rests his cheek on my head, my heart swelling like it does every time he does that. “If you’ll have me.”

I nod and step back, grabbing one of his bags and dragging it to my room, willing him to follow me. And he does. He sets his other bag by my desk, and I watch from where I lean on the edge of my desk as he grabs a few clothes out. Jackson approaches me and places his hands on either side of my hips and bends down to meet my gaze.

I can’t believe he loves me back. This beautiful, bright man, who is going through something I can’t imagine, loves me. And I’ll never forget it.

I sigh into him, gently holding his T-shirt in my hands, but he doesn’t move. Just holds us in place. “I have a request,” I say. He nods and I press my thumb against his lips. My heartbeat quickens when he kisses it softly.

“How can I fulfill it?”

“You don’t want to know what it is first?”

Jackson smiles, hands roaming over my lower back and my butt. “Nope. If you ask, I’ll do it. To the best of my ability.”

My heart just about soars. Loving this man is the best decision I’ve ever made. “I just wanted you to kiss me again.”

“That’s easy baby,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against mine. They move together like they were always meant to. I relax into him completely, not thinking twice about it. “I have a request of my own.”

I nod, blinking my eyes open and meet his gaze. Jackson smiles cheekily. “I’m needy. And I expect I’ll be asking you to remind me quite a bit. All the time, really, when you least expect it.”

I smile. “Remind you of what exactly?”

He presses his lips against mine and holds them there. “That you love me.”

Externally, I laugh lightly at his words.

Internally, my heart has officially left my chest and walked itself right into Jackson’s hands.

I twist his shirt and whisper against his lips, “Always.”

He smiles before kissing me back, fully this time. His request is too easy. I’d tell him whatever he wanted. Whenever and wherever. Because I have never belonged somewhere more perfectly than I have here. With Jackson, in love with Jackson.

There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.





Grief doesn’t go away. I’ve learned that. But I’ve also learned that a hard moment doesn’t have to be a hard day. That I can lean on someone, Nina, when I need it. She’s held me up more times than I can count since I came home mid-November. She keeps me on my feet, keeps me smiling throughout it all.

Every day I wish my dad was here so I could talk to him. Tell him about Nina, about life, about anything. Just to do it if I could. But I can’t, so I do everything I can to live how he would’ve wanted me to.

Every morning since I got back from Thanksgiving, when I flew back down to see my family, I’ve woken up with Nina next to me. Either at my apartment or hers, I wake up with her hot skin touching mine or her hair brushing over me. Today, like many others, I had trouble sleeping, tossing and turning as quietly as possible as to not wake her up like I had before.

When I felt the light touch of her fingertips on my hand that was spread, tapping nervously on her stomach, I exhaled a sigh of relief. I hadn’t even realized I was doing it until she intertwined her fingers with mine. She pressed her back further into my chest, grounding me.

She leaned back so I could see her. Sometimes, those nights were my favorite. The tired, hazy look in her brown eyes, and the way her touch woke me up inside and out. I leaned over, softly pressing my lips to hers, and she sighed, and I caught the puff of air in my mouth. My skin burned, my spine tingling at her kisses, the way she pressed against me, and the soft skin. Quickly, in the middle of the night, in the darkness, we’d slipped off the little layers we did have on. And Nina had sighed my name like she always does, anchoring me to her more and more each time, and I couldn’t hold back. She’d brushed her fingertips over the length of me, and seconds later I was sinking into her, completely enamored with her.