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“Jake never gave her a fucking chance,” Jackson muttered, tossing his cup of coffee into the sink.
As in he never slept with her? I felt my lips itching to bring that up. “I thought you were going to work,” I said instead as I watched Jackson pick up a packed leather duffel and place it by the door.
“I told you last week that I’d be in Boston for two days.”
“I don’t remember that. Who are you seeing?”
Knotting his tie, Jackson smirked at me. “It’s a business trip. Caleb’s going too, so ask him if you still think that I’m going away to play footsies with Audra.”
My lip curled. “I’m glad you can still make jokes when you know I’m upset.” When Jackson rolled his eyes, I felt my control breaking. I wanted to drop the bombshell on him – that I knew what he’d done with his stepsister ten years ago. But instead, I blurted it as a question. “Did you ever sleep with her?”
Jackson froze in the middle of tying his tie. His eyes were suddenly an icy blue and the ends of his lips quivered. But just as I thought I was set to hear a confession, he broke into a loud, mocking laugh. It continued for longer than I appreciated before he finally spoke again. “So you are paranoid,” he concluded.
I stared. I had no idea what I was and I had no idea what to say as he went upstairs. I didn’t even know if I believed Jackson. All I knew was that I was angry. Dissatisfied. I had hoped for some kind of closure on this argument but it felt like I had gotten none.
When Jackson came back down fully dressed, he grabbed the duffel at the door and barely looked over his shoulder at me to say bye. “I’ll be back Wednesday morning,” he muttered. “And I don’t want to come home and hear about you hanging out alone with Sawyer or any of the guys,” he added before leaving.
Chapter Twenty-Three
It was probably childish, but I called Sawyer that very afternoon, asking if he and Jake wanted to join Sloane and me at the Yankees-Red Sox game. It wasn’t totally unusual – Sawyer and I often went to galas and events together while Jackson was away. Knowing that he could only look and not touch, Jackson never minded. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the fact that one of his friends was so willing to “babysit” me while he was gone.
But apparently, that had changed.
Too bad, I thought as Sloane and I waited for Jake and Sawyer in our ground level seats along the first base line.
“So, here’s what I know about baseball,” Sloane said, already tipsy off half a beer. “There are three bases and a bunch of guys wearing too much clothes for me to really evaluate their bodies.”
“You can see a lot of forearm though. And I know how you like forearms.”
“Yes, I do!” Sloane clapped excitedly, as if only just remembering this about herself. “I wish Caleb showed his off more often ‘cause the first thing I ever even noticed about him was his – oh my God! You know what they should invent? Suits for men that end at the elbow, so we can see more forearm.”
I snorted at her drunken rambling. “I don’t know about that one, Sloane.”
“Are you telling me you don’t want Jackson to wear a short-sleeved tux at your wedding?” she giggled, feigning shock. But the smile slid off my face as she mentioned my wedding. For some reason, the word “wedding” jolted me. I hadn’t thought about mine in what felt like ages. I’d also blown off a couple appoin
tments to check out venues and had yet to reschedule my meeting with the calligrapher. The wedding didn’t even feel like something real to me anymore. Sloane frowned as she studied me. “Are you not excited for you big day?” she asked. “You can tell me. I’m the girl who’s been engaged to her fiancé for ten months with no wedding plans yet because neither of our families can agree on where to have it.”
I cracked a smile. “Thank you but don’t worry. It’s nothing, I’m just… stressed out. And Jackson’s been acting a little difficult lately so it’s making me a little less excited to spend the rest of my life with him,” I muttered. “But I think I’m just being a brat,” I added hastily, just to relieve Sloane. I could see her brows knitting as she mentally prepared to have a long pep talk with me. But now, she exhaled with a smile.
“No, I get it, babe. I’m a brat too. I don’t want to have this wedding unless it’s exactly like I imagined as a little girl but I also don’t have the energy to plan it myself but I also can’t pick a wedding planner to do it for me till I know if I’m getting married in New York or Kentucky. It’s such an ordeal.”
“Oh, fuck me.”
I sat up straight when I heard Sawyer’s voice behind us.
“You two aren’t going to be talking about your weddings all day, are you?” he asked, a big grin gleaming out from under the bill of his worn-in Yankees cap. “’Cause that’s going to kill my buzz every time I hit on you,” he cracked as he took the seat beside Sloane. As he did, I turned around to see Jake charming the hell out of a trio of Long Island moms in the row behind me, fielding their questions about his height and whether or not he used to play sports, since they clearly weren’t going to let him pass till he did so. Holding back laughter, Sloane and Sawyer turned around to watch with me.
“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t you try to get past me till you put your number in this phone,” said the middle one, who patted her big hair as she held out an iPhone dressed in leopard print casing. I bit my lip as I watched Jake laugh that sexy laugh, instantly melting all three women.
“I’d love to but I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate that,” he said.
“Well, she ain’t here, so who cares?” Big Hair asked boisterously.
“Ah, actually, she is here,” Sawyer cut in. His arm around Sloane, he pointed at me. Okay then. Realizing our game, my lips stretched into an awkward smile and I waved at the women.
“Oh,” Big Hair said, eyes on me. “Look at her.”
“She’s gorgeous,” her friend chimed in.
