Page 56 of And Now, Back to You

Jackson nods, a bemused look on his stupid, handsome face. “Okay.”

I suck in a deep breath through my nose and let it out slowly. I need to get it together.

“All right,” I say. I take another step back, clutching my candy to my chest. “I’m just going to—”

My foot catches against the broken wheel of my suitcase. I lose my balance, slip slightly, and lurch forward, the hand with the candy flying out. Swedish Fish pelt the wall like gummy raindrops while my knee buckles and I hit the carpet. I’m all twisted up, kneeling on the floor and my face—

My face smack-dab in the middle of Jackson’s thigh.

He sighs somewhere above me. “You really do have a gift for this sort of thing.”

I groan, my eyes clenched shut. At least I didn’t land with my face in his lap. This could have been so much worse.

“I lost my fish,” I whine.

He hesitates, then eases his palm over the back of my head. “I’ll buy you some more.”

“I got them from a gas station, like, one thousand miles away.”

He exhales a short laugh. “I’m sure we’ll find something.” His hand sifts under my hair and squeezes at the back of my neck. I shiver. “Do you need help getting up?”

“No, I’m fine.”

I don’t move. Another laugh shakes his chest. “You sure?”

I finally pull back, smiling ruefully. My knee is throbbing, but my ego hurts more. Jackson’s hand moves from the back of my neck to the place just between my shoulders, fingers spread wide. The way he’s hovering over me is really not helping things.

“Good?” he asks again, ducking his head closer to mine.

“M’fine,” I mumble. I tug myself out of his grip and—very carefully—pick my way back to my side of the room. My poor Swedish Fish. They’re littered over the carpet like tiny red land mines.

I flip open my suitcase and pull out my flannel pajamas. They’re oversized and well loved, with a hole in the thigh. I thought I’d be wearing them in a room by myself, not in the minuscule space I’ll be sharing with Jackson for the foreseeable future.

I grab my toiletry bag too. “Do you mind if I go first? I won’t be long.”

He shakes his head. “I’m going to call my sisters. I’ll be out on the balcony. Give you some privacy.”

“It’s ten degrees out there.”

“I’ll be fine.” He gives me a half smile. “I’ll turn on the fireplace when I come back in.”

That’s right. The best feature of this room. A gas fireplace that takes up the length of one of the walls, two cozy armchairs on either side of it. I can’t wait until snow is falling outside the massive window that anchors the other side of the room. Sitting in that armchair in front of the fire while I tap away on my computer sounds like an actual dream.

I glance at it, sighing happily. “Based on the room alone, I think this might be my favorite assignment ever.”

When I turn back to him, he’s still looking right at me. “Yeah. Me too.”

Despite what I told Jackson, I take my time once I’m in the bathroom. I spend an obnoxious thirty-eight minutes underneath the rainfall showerhead. I shampoo and condition. I wrap myself in a fluffy towel and unpack my toiletries, careful to keep to my side of the sink, trying not to be nosy and pick through Jackson’s stuff that he’s already set up and organized. But the bad voices win.

I peer inside the leather pouch sitting next to an electric toothbrush. He’s got a tin of breath mints in there. A travel-sized bottle of aftershave. A utilitarian razor and a small, worn, folded-up piece of paper. I squint at it and bend closer, trying to see what’s written on it.

Something in crayon? Maybe?

I brush my teeth and rinse my face, eyeballing his case the entire time. It wouldn’t hurt to take a little peek. Not if he never knows.

Except I’ve never been stealthy a day in my life, and when I’m reaching for the bag, I knock it off the side of the sink. The contents spill across the floor, a kaleidoscope of tiny blue mints and razor heads. The small piece of folded-up paper taunts me, and I reach for it last after I collect the rest of his things.

It’s a small greeting card with one of the edges missing, the other folded and creased so many times it looks like it’s an intentional part of the design.