Page 36 of AJ’s Fire

Not once had I thought to myself I’m going to kiss him now.

My mouth found his, and there was this flash, an explosion all around me, but it was gone in an instant as he pulled away. He looked over my shoulder and out the door before looking at me.

“What the fuck is this? What are you doing here? Was it? Was it you?” He backed up two big steps. I was afraid he would keep going and hit the end table behind him, so I lunged into the room, closing the door as I went and pulling him toward me. I held him flush against me, and my instincts kicked in, my mouth on him again, seeking, answering his questions the only way I knew how because the words just weren’t there.

What was I doing? All I knew was that the nagging feeling I’d had for months, the vague sense that something was wrong, and the even-more-distant notion that I was the only one who could fix it: that feeling was gone.

But the swooping feeling? The sensation I felt when Jackson smiled, or acted like his old self, or joked around with me, that feeling had taken over my entire body until I was lighter and brighter than the snow falling outside. My whole body floated and shimmered and burned. It burned with a passion so hot it was unlike anything I had ever felt with any woman. My dick was absolutely straining against my jeans, and it sought out friction, sought out Jackson until we were grinding together, and I was feeling my best friend's junk, hard and ready and rubbing against mine, for the first time.

I think it startled us both. I paused my assault on his lips, and he pulled away violently again. “Wait! Stop!” He was flushed, his hair a mess, his eyes blown wide, allowing the green to dominate. He looked … beautiful.

“What the fuck are you doing here, AJ? Was it …” the fire went out of him, and he sought out the couch, dropping down in a defeated slump. “Was it you on the app? I just don’t understand.”

I moved to him quickly but cautiously. My lips and my dick still wanted to lead the charge, but instead, I squatted in front of him, keeping my hands at my sides when all I wanted to do was rest them on his thighs to reassure him.

“It wasn’t me, Jax.” He looked at me then in question, wondering, I presumed, how I knew what he was talking about.

“I’m so sorry, Jackson. I saw those messages last night. Last night,” I scoffed. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”

“He … he messaged after you dropped your phone, and I …” I ran my fingers through my hair, stood, and joined him on the couch. We both sat staring at the fire and not looking at each other. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to … but he messaged you while I had your phone in the cab.” He didn’t respond.

“I’ve been so worried about you, Jax.”

“And you followed me up here?”

“Yes. No. Emily called. Said she was worried about you too.”

“She sent you?”

“I was really worried,” I continued, even though I’d come to realize that wasn’t the whole truth. “I don’t know! I guess hearing her voice, her concern, gave me permission or whatever. I wanted to come. I wanted to …”

“To what? To kiss me?” I peeked at him in time to see him brush a finger over his lips in wonder.

As if he’d just remembered, Jackson jumped up and exclaimed, “I have a date!” He paced to the window to look out. “He’s late, but I have a … a guy coming over.” He moved the curtain. “It’s snowing.”

He stood ramrod straight, looking out into the night, looking for someone else. “I’m so sorry, Jax.” I felt like a broken record. “He’s not coming.”

“Did you turn him away?” His tone was more curious than accusatory.

I stood but stayed where I was, talking to his back. “I’ve been here for a while, sitting in the car. I saw him. He pulled up, with his lights off, and sat for a few minutes. I think he was thinking about it; torn or whatever.”

“He said he was new to all of this too,” Jackson said to the window. “I’ve never … I didn’t … I never thought I was into guys, AJ. I never let myself think about it. But then last year … Anyway, I’ve been thinking about it. For a whole year.” His voice trembled, on the verge of tears.

He turned to me then. “Thinking about hooking up with a guy. And now here you are. You, not him. And you kissed me.” He shook his head no, and a silence fell between us.

“I’m so confused, AJ.”

I stepped to him and gently held his upper arms.

“I am too, Jax. Or I was until …” It was time for the whole truth. A truth I hadn’t even acknowledged in the recesses of my own brain, instead acting on instinct to pound on the door and force my way in. Force the situation.

“I was confused until last night, or this morning, when I decided that I needed to follow you up here. Yes, in part because I’ve been worried for months, but also because ... because it’s not about that guy.” I let go of him to point out the window and down the road. “Or any other guy. It’s about you and me. It’s maybe always been about you and me, and we just didn’t see it.

“This is what you want, isn’t it, Jax? Please, tell me this is what you want.” I was almost as certain of his answer as I was of my own feelings. All of the pieces were coming together to explain what we’d been going through the past year.

But he shook his head no again, and my disappointment was palpable. My heart pounded, and the swoop in my stomach took an evil turn. I wanted to grasp him tighter and convince him otherwise, but this was Jackson, this was my best friend. I would only, could only, do what he wanted.

“No. No. Of course, it’s not.” I turned away. “Why would you want that … with me.” I didn’t get far before he grasped my hand.