AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The driver, a man named Phillip who looked to be in his mid-thirties, turned around in his seat. “I’ll just punch your address into the GPS.”
I nodded, but for some reason began to feel nervous. “Um…it’s one-oh-two Cottonwood Circle.” I clasped my hands in my lap as he punched it into the vehicle, pulling up a thirty-minute route…
“Ah, so you live on the other side of town,” Phillip commented, putting the car in drive and pulling out of the circle drive. I knew what he meant when he said the other side of town.
He meant the poor side of town.
I glanced over at Jackson, but his head was leaning back against the seat, his eyes closed. For a moment, I was actually jealous—especially if he was able to fall asleep that way. I could never sleep in cars. I picked the lint off my black jeans and flexed my feet to the best of my ability in my Vans. My feet were achy, and I was almost sure I’d never been this tired.
We rode in silence, the only sound coming from the radio which was playing a classical station. Phillip had strange taste in music for someone who chauffeured around rock stars…and I have no idea how it didn’t put him to sleep.
My eyes stayed transfixed on the streets outside the car, mostly devoid of people. There were always stragglers and partiers in this city, but I never saw much of it. I didn’t have time with work and school.
“Almost there,” Phillip muttered, turning onto my road. I stared at the old art deco houses, once striking in their prime. Now, they were all faded, some falling apart. Maeve and I shared the dark-blue house that sat smack-dab in the center of the cul-de-sac.
“This is where you live?” Jackson rolled down the window as Phillip pulled into my driveway. The grass was a little tall, and the flower bed was overgrown—and I had never been more embarrassed about my house than I was right then.
My heart thudded with nerves. “…Yeah…I know it’s kind of—”
“Authentic.”
I sat there for a moment, trying to register what that description could even mean. “Um, yeah, I guess it’s something like that.”
“Cool.”
“Well, thanks for tonight,” I choked out, pulling at the handle and pushing the door open with my foot. “See ya.” I nearly facepalmed as my Vans hit the pavement, feeling red in the face as I slammed the car door shut. I was pretty sure Jackson said something in response, but I didn’t stop to hear it, trudging across my lawn.
I stepped onto the concrete porch as the headlights dissipated, punching in the code on the lock. The door was stuck—just like always—and I lifted up on the handle and shoved. Ugh. I’m poor. I’m so freaking poor.
Taking a deep breath, I shut and locked the door, feeling the disparity right then between Jackson’s social class and my own. I had never been wealthy—and had never cared that I wasn’t—but there was something about walking into an overly modest home after partying at a mansion, full of celebrities.
My eyes drifted to the clock hanging on the wall. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut when I saw that it was nearly four-thirty. “I’m going to be a freaking zombie tomorrow,” I muttered to myself as I ripped my shirt over my head. My footsteps creaked across the floors, and I caught another whiff of Jackson’s cologne.
My stomach did a nervous flip at the heady scent, but I shook it off. Jackson might be a superstar, but he was not my type. In fact, he was nothing other than a walking red flag—one that I was glad I didn’t go too far with tonight.
Would I have kept going?
I swallowed as I peeled my jeans off and tossed them into the laundry hamper. I knew the answer—and I hated it.
Maybe I need to start dating again.
I shuddered at the thought. It had been a couple years since I’d done more than go on a handful of dates with someone, and honestly, it was because most guys I met were either incredibly immature or just…not my type.
My mind always pictured a relationship like my parents had—genuine, and with marriage as the end goal from the get-go.
No one wants that these days.
Especially not a rock star like Jackson.
I wasn’t sure why I was even thinking about Jackson when it came to dating. I didn’t even like him. He had been a jerk the entire night, and it was clear that his only motivation was to play rock ’n’ roll and party. What happened between us was a wine-fueled moment—that was it…right?
Right.
It’s just a good thing I never have to see him again.
4
JACKSON
