Page 61 of Chasing Blue
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I whisper.
He nods and looks down between us, down to where our bodies remain connected.
“I want to disagree, but coercion isn’t my thing. It’s either a straight yes, or it doesn’t happen.”
His words fill my heart with warmth. Despite everything, Jack was never an arsehole, just a heartbreaker.
His head slowly rises, and his eyes meet mine. He nods before kissing my forehead as his thumb continues its sweep across my cheek. Both gestures are so gentle, so intimate, they almost break my resolve. And then he’s gone. I’m left leaning against the wall, naked, except for the singlet around my waist.
I remain still and silent, my arms wrapped around my middle, as Jack pulls up his jocks and jeans. He grabs my pyjama pants from the floor and turns to me with them in his hand. Embarrassment starts to claw its way up from my toes, but comes to a halt, along with my breathing as he steps towards me, and carefully pulls the straps of the singlet over each of my arms, then kneels in front of me, holding out my pyjamas until I step into them. He stands as he pulls them up my legs but doesn’t step back once he’s done.
Leaning in, he rests his forehead against mine.
“I’m not leaving,” he says. His mouth so close to mine that those perfect pouty lips of his whisper across mine as he talks.
“Jack,” I sigh out his name. Unsure if it’s in frustration, or something else, something I don’t want to consider because it’s already making me lightheaded.
“I’m not leaving, Blue. I fucked up and did that before, and I lost you. I’m not losing you again.”
I close my eyes, draw in a deep breath through my nose, and attempt to get my racing thoughts in order.
I’m not against this. Not against him or us. I’m fully aware and accept that there’s most definitely still a spark there, but I’ve not guarded my heart for as long as I have to allow him to walk in and potentially destroy it all over again.
“You didn’t lose me. I was there, you just didn’t look hard enough,” I open my eyes but stare down between us as I speak.
His hands are at each side of my face, and he tilts it until our eyes meet.
“You’re absolutely fucking right. I left it too late, and honest to God, Blue, I’ve regretted it every day since then, but I really did believe that I was doing the right thing. You were about to embark on a whole new adventure. Spreading your wings, getting out of Palmers, going to Uni, living in Sydney. I wanted you to experience all of that, so yeah, for all those reasons, you’re right, I didn’t look hard enough . . .” He trails off, and we both turn our heads at the sound of Maca, my Frenchie, moving to stand in the doorway. Mac pauses for a moment, looks from me to Jack, and then waddles towards us.
“Is he friendly?” Jack asks. “I’ve met a few who’ve been a bit possessive with their owners, and hate anyone else touching or even being near them.”
“He’s fine . . . at least, he’s never not been fine around anyone else,” I kinda reassure him. “His farts are the most lethal part of him. They can be deadly.”
“Noted,” Jack says as we both watch Mac sniff around his boots, and as we do, I’m mortified when my dog cocks his leg, and proceeds to piss up Jack’s jeans.
“Mac,” I screech.
“Dude, what the actual fuck,” Jack says as he steps away, taking me with him.
“Oh my god,” I whisper from where Jack has moved me behind him. “I am so sorry. He’s never, not ever done anything like that before.”
I watch on in horror as Maca looks up at me, turns, and walks his fat little arse back to his bed, leaving me and Jack with the puddle of piss he’s left behind.
“He can probably smell Mick and was just marking his territory,” Jack says quietly while pulling me from behind him and into his side.
“He pissed up your leg. That’s not acceptable behaviour. He’s been around other people with dogs before and never felt the need . . .”
“Like I said, he’s marking his territory. Letting me know you’re his . . .”
“Don’t be ridic . . .”
“I’m telling ya, Blue, that’s what he was doing.”
I look from the puddle on my hardwood, up at Jack, and for some reason, I get the giggles.
“My dog literally got into a pissing contest with you.”
Jack grins. It’s wide and toothy, his unique green eyes sparkle and I’m taken back to a time many years ago when we danced on the beach around a bonfire on a warm summer night, and he looked at me the same way.
