Page 230 of Wait for Him

"Hey, kid."

"Hey, Jackson. Thanks for the room, man. It's awesome."

James walks straight over and pulls him into a hug. A man hug, naturally. Linked hands, shoulder collision, aggressive back slaps, because God forbid two males embrace without making it look vaguely combative.

"Pizza?" James asks.

"That's why I'm here." Jackson falls into step beside us. "I'm not turning down double cheese, pepperoni and pineapple."

James stops walking.

His face goes slack.

Then he turns very slowly toward me and points an accusatory thumb at Jackson. "This is who you associate yourself with? People who put pineapple on pizza?"

"You can't choose who you love. The heart wants what it wants." I wrap my arm around Jackson's waist.

"Gross."

"You're the one who called me Ma ten minutes ago. You're legally required to tolerate my romantic decisions now."

"That's not how that works."

"It is in California."

"You're making that up."

"I'm a lawyer. You'll never know."

Jackson laughs and hooks an arm around my shoulders as we reach Michael's door.

I bang on it three times, crack it open, and stick my head inside.

"PIZZA!"

Then I close it again and keep walking.

Jackson looks at me. "That's all you're giving them?"

"That's all they need."

Sure enough, a door bangs open behind us less than five seconds later.

"PIZZA?" Blaire yells.

I grin and keep walking.

She'll be waddling up behind us at full speed any second now, with Michael right on her heels telling her not to run.

Some things really are better when you come home to them.

Jackson

It’s a short walk to the pizza place, less than ten minutes, and I’ve been holding Rose’s hand the entire way.

I feel like a shy teenager.

Which is fucking ridiculous.