Page 22 of Heartbreaker

Chapter 9

Jackson

Sunday morning I wake up with the headache from hell. I’ve hardly slept for two days and I think I just might be going fucking crazy. Trying to keep things straight in my head is a nightmare. What possessed me to start this in the first place is anyone’s guess.

Then I think back to Friday night. I had the best time, everything was going brilliantly. Then the fucking henna tattoo incident happened. I was a dick to even attempt it. My deep fear of needles goes back to when I was a little boy and my rational mind knows it won’t hurt that bad but that doesn’t stop my irrational mind fucking me every time.

I check my phone as I roll to my side, it’s silent with no messages from Tinkerbell. I was so close to screwing that up too but saved it just in time. It’s her own fault she re-wires my brain with one look. I go from a cool sophisticated guy of the world to blathering idiot around her.

I mean, what was that shit about not wanting to sit on the grass? I play tea-parties with Maisy on the grass all the time, fuck I take her for ‘pony’ rides on my back and crawl around the grass on my knees, but the moment Tinkerbell asked me to sit, I’m worried about my jeans?

Yet when I’m texting her as my alter ego I’m slick and cool.

I kind of want to punch myself in the dick right now, talking of my poor manhood, he has been so abused this weekend thinking about Tinkerbell, that I practically have callouses on my hand.

I chuck the phone on the bed and grab a shower, I need to get a fresh mind before I even attempt focusing on my day.

I have a day in the office today which I’m happy about, the job I did last night was a complete disaster and I need to write it up. The girl lost her shit when I dumped her and despite my attempts to calm her down, she screamed like a banshee and then slapped me, and I’ll say that it did sting. It isn’t the first time I’ve been slapped but she definitely handled it the worst. I actually felt sorry for her ex and could definitely see why he hired me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he finds a dead bunny in a pot on his stove when he gets home. I think back through everything and it was nothing I did, she was just a little highly strung I think. I rub my jaw, she had a mean right arm though.

I’m also going to try and figure out what the hell is going on with Tinkerbell. She is telling me she had a nice time but the other me that I’m a bit of a dick who embarrassed himself and tried to flash my muscles.

Is she playing me? Is this girl someone who likes to play games and play two guys off against each other? I didn’t think she was but now I ain’t so sure. How is it messing around if it’s both with you knob head? my brain says. And you fucking started it. All true and that makes it worse.

Maybe I should get a tattoo I think as I head into my silent office. I love working on Sunday’s as it is so quiet, and I get so much more done. Not today though. Oh no. Today I waste the whole day on the internet looking up tattoos, then hypnotherapy for phobias.

The more I look at these tattoos the more I like the idea of getting one, but the thought of the needles makes me break out in a sweat. I close the laptop and think to myself, I am going crazy, thinking about scaring my body for the rest of my life for a girl, that I haven’t even slept with, or had more than one date with. I am losing the plot. Around two o’clock I decide to text Tinkerbell.

Jackson: What do you like to eat?

Tinkerbell: I’ll eat anything really, but Italian is my favourite.

Finally, something playing in my favour.

Jackson: Italian is my favourite too. Shall I pick you up at 8pm?

Tinkerbell: Sounds good. Is it dress up or casual?

Jackson: You look stunning whatever you wear so wear whatever makes you happy.

That’s more like it, I’m getting my groove back now.

Tinkerbell: Smooth talker, I like it! :) See you at 8pm.

Oh yeah, you’re gonna see smooth baby, I’ll be so fucking smooth your clothes will slide off your body. I feel good now, maybe I haven’t messed this up. I work for another two hours and then just before I close the computer I decide on a whim to print off the image of the tattoo I liked. Not that I’ll ever get it done. I fold it up and slip it into my back pocket.

*~*~*

I get home and decide to go for a quick run before tonight. It might help burn off some of the sexual energy that seems to be steamrolling through my body constantly since I met Tinkerbell. I smile at the thought of her, she is… I don’t know what she is, she is just perfect, and the thought makes me wonder what the hell is happening to me. I don’t do relationships and yet I find myself wanting to claim her as mine. To take her to meet my mum and see her spending time with my family.

I grab my phone just as I am about to plug my earbuds in for my run and shoot a quick text to Tinkerbell as my alter ego. I want to see where her head is at.

Jackson: Do your legs hurt from running through my dreams all night?

I watch the little dots bounce as she types, and my heart kicks up a gear.

Tinkerbell: HAHA has that line ever worked for you?

Jackson: No, I look like Matt Bomer remember, so I don’t need lines.