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Chapter 21
Later that evening I’m in Jackson’s bed, my head on his shoulder. His arm’s linked around my neck while he idly plays with my hair. We came back here after dessert/coffee at his parents’ house. Believe it or not the remainder of the evening with his family wasn’t as awkward as the majority that preceded it. Julieann returned to her joking, casual self, and she and I attempted and succeeded at a mild-mannered conversation about shoes and purses.
Feeling brave, I asked her if she was seeing anyone, and she told me “not anymore.” I offered to set her up with one of the hunks in L.A. I frequently come across and then she laughed in that husky, likable way she has and quipped, “None of them could handle me.”
Thing is, she’s right.
“Do you know what Julieann needs?” Jax’s bedroom is dark, but I can make out his profile in the moonlight.
“I’m afraid to ask.” His low voice reverberates off my ribs where I’m pressed against him.
“A guy who’s not nice.” He grunts in what might be an amused laugh. “Hear me out. I’m not saying she needs a mean guy, but she could use a guy who’s not a gentleman. If she’s dating nice guys I bet she’s eating them for dinner.”
“And breakfast,” he confirms.
I knew it.
“She needs someone crazy confident. A guy who’s manly enough to bring out her feminine side.”
“Jules has a feminine side?”
“Of course she does. She’s a woman. A beautiful one. She hasn’t found anyone to challenge her yet, that’s all. I was kidding about setting her up with a Hollywood guy. For the most part they’re very fragile. Their egos are like eggshells. Or spun glass. Spun glass eggshells.”
I expect a laugh in response, but instead he asks, “What are you doing with me, Allie?”
I can’t tell if he’s asking that rhetorically or seriously.
“You mean because you’re not made of spun glass?”
He shifts on the bed, jostling me slightly. “You stated pretty plainly tonight that we won’t last. If I was spun glass that would’ve been the end of me.”
“Oh, that.” I bite my lip in consideration. “I guess we’ve never said that out loud. Talked about The End.”
“Why should we?” He fiddles with my hair again. He’s not conflicted or worried or wounded. Definitely not spun glass.
“Well…I didn’t know if we should define it, since you’ll probably want to call Kim again after I leave.”
His chuckle is light and I relax some. “Kim is actually very nice. And she wants me. Or she did before I left her in the parking lot after she invited me home with her.”
Cringe.
“Did you kiss her?” I can’t help myself.
“She kissed me.”
“Well, you let her,” I grumble.
“Like I said, she was nice and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. But I couldn’t go home with her after seeing you so upset. How sad you were. How hurt you were.”
“Not my finest moment.”
“It was jarring to hear you say you were happy to see me.”
“I was. Am,” I correct. I rest my head on Jax’s chest and sigh. “I didn’t realize how badly I needed someone who knows me after the people in my life turned on me. Then there you were. Like some sort of…fate.”
It’s too big of a word. Too dangerous of a word. But I went with it because it feels right. True.
He palms my hair and rubs my scalp with his fingertips.
