He walked toward me slowly, like he was trying to figure out if I was actually here or if I was just a mirage. He stopped four feet away from me, and his eyes bounced down to my feet, then back up to my face.
“What, um . . . What are you doing here?” Jackson asked. His fingers twitched nervously at his sides. When had Jacksoneverbeen nervous around me?
I cleared my throat awkwardly. “Peter, ya know.”
“We were so sorry to hear about him,” Julie said quickly, eyes moving from Jackson to me.Jackson didn’t add anything, his eyes studying me for a reaction.
“The funeral was three months ago,” he said slowly. Had he expected to see me? Did his whole family go? Should I ask if my mom went?
Julie’s eyes flicked between the two of us. “I gotta go check on those rolls,” Julie said before disappearing back through the kitchen door.
The second it swung shut, Jackson pulled me into a hug. It took me so by surprise that it almost knocked me over, and I stumbled back as he tightened his hold on me to keep me close. I clasped my hands around the middle of his back, and exhaled at the feel of his breath against my neck.
I couldn’t be the first to let go; I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten how good it felt to be in his embrace. His heart was beating in time withmine, and I imagined us at eighteen years old—the last time he’d held me like this. I lost track of how long we stood like that before he finally stepped back and cleared his throat.
“Why are you here?” Jackson asked again, more firmly this time.
I shrugged and let out a deep breath. “He left me the house. I didn’t even know he owned it.”
Jackson crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall as he processed the words. His stance gave me a clear view of the Delvecchio tattoo plastered across his right forearm, a familiar sight among all the new ones.
“That’s interesting.”
“Yep,” I confirmed. I shoved my hands in my hoodie pocket. “Did you go to the funeral?”
I watched him tense, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Marie, Jules, and I went. We thought maybe we’d see you.”
I swayed uncomfortably from side to side. After all this time, they’d wanted to seeme.
“Was . . . Um, was my mom there?” I asked timidly.
He pulled in his lips, rubbing them together before letting out a long breath. “Yeah. She was.”
I nodded, not knowing how to feel about this information.
“She didn’t call you, did she?” he asked.
I shook my head no. I had no idea Peter had passed away until I got the call from our mom about the house being left to me.
Jackson mumbled something under his breath, but I didn’t catch the words.
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face. “Nothing. So, how’s the house looking?”
I gave a weak smile. “No idea. I haven’t been there yet. This was my first stop.”
His eyes softened, and a genuine smile spread across his face. A mixture of excitement and nerves swirled in my stomach at the sight of that smile. I noticed a scar running through his right eyebrow, a line missing straight through it. It took everything in me not to reach forward and run a finger over it.
Jackson opened his mouth to say something, but the front door swung open and I turned to see a woman walking through with a box of flowers in her arms. Her face was obscured by the bouquets, but I heard her say, “Little help here!”
Jackson hurried over to help her, and when he took the box from her, she kissed him right on the lips before turning and facing me. Her smile fell abruptly off her face, and I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping. I may have thought I’d never see the Delvecchios again, but I definitely never thought I’d seeheragain.
The S and J—it was clicking together, finally. Jackson was engaged to Sophie Waters.
Chapter 2
BEFORE
