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“It's fine.”
“It was mean and it upset you so it's not fine.”
I say nothing, too focused on watching his hand sliding up my leg until it rests dangerously high on my upper thigh. A finger hooks beneath my chin, tilting upwards and directing my gaze to his.
Brown eyes burn into me, alight with that damn intense look that does weird things to my stomach. “I don't think of you as some hookup or a meaningless fuck. That's what I was trying to say. That's what I would've said if you hadn't run off. Nothing has changed for me, Luna. When something happens between us again, it's not gonna be a one time thing.”
When. Not if.
When.
Something lodges itself in my throat as he bends until we're eye level, one dark brow crooked. “Got it?”
All I can do is nod.
“I'm sorry for upsetting you.”
Again, a weak nod is the extent of my capabilities.
The corner of his mouth quirks up as he makes a pleased noise. Before I can blink, he drops his hand and spins around, returning to his meal-in-progress with a carefree whistle.
Me? I'm still focused on that one word.
When.
48
LUNA
During the manyphilanderous years of my life, I’ve become an expert in sneaking out undetected.
A new challenge for me, though?
Sneaking out of my own apartment.
I had no intention of falling asleep while Jackson was still here. Definitely not with him beside me on the couch. And I certainly didn’t intend on waking up with soft, steady breaths tickling the top of my head, my face buried in his chest and his in my hair.
It wouldn’t have been so bad, really, if he didn’t have a hand shoved down my pajama shorts. It could’ve almost passed for a friendly nap, like one I would take with Amelia or Kate or Ben, if his other hand wasn't curled around my back and copping a handful of sideboob. Everything would be fine if I wasn’t wrapped around him like a monkey, hands creeping under his t-shirt to press flat against his bare chest and steal some of his warmth, my face buried so deep in his neck, I'm surprised my face isn't imprinted there.
I swear, I’ve never moved faster than I did scrambling the hell off him.
By some miracle, Jackson didn’t stir. He pouted and he frowned and he wriggled around a bit but he remained blessedly asleep, oblivious to my absence.
Turns out, that wasn’t the triumph I took it for.
Because now, I’m standing at my front door, staring at the unconscious boy on my sofa, wondering what the fuck to do with him.
I can’t just… leave, can I? That feels like a step too far, even for me.
I’m pondering my limited options when my phone rings. Swearing, I wrestle it from my pocket. Averting my gaze from Jackson as he finally awakens, I frown at his sister’s name lighting up my screen and hit the answer button. “Hello?”
The panicked voice that greets me is most definitely not Lux’s. “Caroline?”
In my peripheral, I watch Jackson jerk upright. Waving until I reluctantly swing my gaze his way, he mouthsCaroline?
Mimicking his look of bewilderment, I shrug.
“This is weird,” Caroline voices my sentiments exactly, “but Lux told me to call you.”
