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“I’ll help them find more work, sweetheart. Do you think I wanted to do this?” He jabs his chest angrily. “We’re barely staying afloat. You’re in school and I can’t even help you pay your tuition. I promised your mother I’d take care of you, and that’s what I’m doing.”
I kneel down in front of him, resting my forehead on his knee like I used to do when I was upset as a child. “Why didn’t you come to me first?” I demand. “Why couldn’t you have said something?”
He smooths my hair, waiting until my sobs subside to speak softly. “Because I love you, Flick. I was tired of you taking care of me. I wanted to take care of you for once.”
“I wish you would have—” But I cut myself off, choking back my words. I don’t even have it in me to tell him that everything in my life is taken care of, that I’ve paid off all my loans already. That I’ve fallen recklessly for the man he just sold the restaurant to. I don’t want to think about Jackson, but once again, Dad asks who told me about him selling the restaurant.
Climbing to my feet, I hug my arms over my stomach and answer as honestly as I can without ripping his heart out of his chest. “Jackson Cade. We were seeing each other, but now we’re done.”
Dad is out of his chair, his face bright red before I have a chance to make another move. “He’s at least fifteen years older than you, Flick!”
“Eleven,” I say, reaching for the doorknob. I feel so defeated. Defeated and angry. I hate both. “And I don’t want to hear it. Not from you. You don’t get to judge me when you’ve just fucked a half a dozen people with very little notice.”
“Christ, sweetheart—”
“I won’t be mad at you forever.” I don’t turn to look at him. “I probably won’t even last a week. But, please, just let me think. Give me space to think.”
Though he doesn’t speak, I know he’s nodding. He exhales, takes a step in my direction, but then I hear him sink back down in his chair. Without another word, I leave his office to face my co-workers.
Jackson calls me once that night, but I don’t answer. And when he calls me the next morning, I box up the phone he’d given me and drop it by a courier service to be delivered to his office. After that, he doesn’t reach out to me again, even though he has my other number. Part of me is grateful that it was a clean—albeit painful— break, but the other part burns. I see him in my sleep. In the shower when my hands wander over my body. In my car when I think of how ridiculously fast he drives. No matter how much I will him to go away, it doesn’t happen.
He was my first in every way.
And you can’t forget that sort of thing.
A few nights after I confront my dad, I slump into my apartment mentally and physically exhausted. All I want is a hot shower and my bed, but I quickly discover neither of those will happen anytime soon when the sound of voices lures me into the living room.
There, sitting on the couch, are Erik and Wendy.
And right across from them wearing jeans and a dark blue tee shirt, looking more dressed-down than I’ve ever seen him but still just as beautiful, is Jackson.
He stops mid-conversation, his eyes drinking me in as I step into the room. His gaze is electrifying. Enough to take my breath away. So infuriating I have to curl my toes and bite my tongue not to ask him why the fuck he’s here or kiss him.
Probably both.
Smoothing my hand over my loose braid, I press my lips together and tilt my face down to the floor. “You didn’t tell me we had company, Wendy,” I say in a hoarse voice.
“You didn’t tell me you knew the Jackson Cade,” Erik pipes up, not even having the decency to recoil when I glower at him. “Fucking hell, this guy is going to be a legend in the investment world. He’s going to—”
“Shut the fuck up, Erik,” Wendy and I say at the same time, and he holds his hands up defensively.
“You two are the worst business majors I’ve ever met,” he counters, wincing when Wendy grabs him by the neck of his polo shirt and hauls him off the couch toward the door.
“We’re going to grab dinner, Flick.” She glances back at Jackson, worrying her pink lips together. “You’ll, ahh, call me if you need me?”
I ignore her question and nod. “You two have a good time.” For a long time after the door closes behind them, I just stare at Jackson. Despite my anger from the other night, I don’t want to approach him furiously again. I regret hitting him. I’ve never struck another human in my life and it had caught even myself off-guard. It had hurt to hear from someone else that he was planning to fuck me over. If he had just told me himself—if he had boldly faced me with his filthy mouth an unapologetic attitude—I would have been able to handle it.
