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Oh, do I hate just how well that line works.
Blinking in the hopes that’ll dispel the fucking hearts swirling in my eyes, I fire another question at him. “Favorite song?”
“Hm.” His head hits the cab window he’s slumped against, his face scrunching up as he thinks. “I don’t know.”
I tut. “Another cop-out answer.”
Fingers pinch my arm before slipping between us, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “Here.” Unlocking it, he opens Spotify and drops it on my lap. “Check for yourself.”
One scroll through the only playlist on there–probably the first and only red flag this boy has displayed–shows an eclectic music taste. A little bit of everything. Laughter bubbles up in my throat because when I say everything, I meaneverything. “Big One Direction fan?”
Face deadpan, he says, “I have four younger sisters. I had no choice.”
Four.
Jesus Christ. That’s the whole gentleman thing explained. “Your mom must love having so many girls.”
In an instant, I know I’ve fucked up somehow. Something heavy darkens the mood as Jackson tenses, his grip on me loosening just a bit, because I’ve done what I do best; put my big foot in my bigger mouth. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit a nerve.”
“It's okay.” Jackson offers me a weak smile before clearing his throat. “She's not in the picture. Neither is my dad.”
My mouth opens to comfort him, closing just as swiftly because comfort is not among my specialities and I don’t actually know what to say.'Sorry your parents left you. Hey, my dad left too?'
Eloquent.
“Favorite food?” I meant to break the tension but God, I think I actually managed to make it a little worse.
Jackson’s smile is sad. His eyes are sad. The slump of his fucking shoulders is sad.
“We lived in Boston for a little while and there was this really good Japanese restaurant near our house. My dad took me there when he visited once and I remember being so excited. He didn’t get why. When he asked, I said because I’m Japanese, and he just kind of said…Oh. Like he’d forgotten. I thought he chose the place on purpose but apparently not.”
“Is your favorite food the rat poison you feed to him or something?”
“No,” he laughs, a decidedly unhappy noise. “It’s the two hundred dollar ramen he let me order because he felt bad.”
Never in my life have I wished to be someone well-versed in comfort yet here I am, twice in one night, pleading for just that. All I can think to offer is a brush of my lips against the bottom of his jaw, my hands sliding along his arms so I’m holding him instead of the opposite.
“One more question.” I whisper. “How does a first date end?”
Jackson softens, eyes regaining that signature softness. “I bring you home.”
“Do you come home with me?“
“Not tonight.” Two words kill any inkling of hope. “I walk you to your door, kiss you goodnight, and leave.”
“Like a gentleman?” I sigh when he nods, his laugh kickstarting my heart a beat. “But you’re at least gonna go home and jack off thinking about me, right?”
He glances at me briefly, just long enough for me to see the wicked smile lighting up his face. “Oh, fuck yeah.”
18
LUNA
Professor Jacobs needn't worryabout me corrupting his daughter.
Pen is plenty corrupt all on her own.
She's a fucking menace. It's been two hours of thwarting her attempts to dance on the bar, confiscating her phone to stop her from drunk texting an ex, preventing her from seducing the scruffy bartender who reeks of weed. And trust me, a girl with tequila thrumming through her veins is no easy thing to wrangle.
