Page 17 of Kissing for Keeps
Poop. I’ll call them poop. And I’ll stay away from them in case they smell, too.
“You’re somethin’ else, Jack. If Madi trusts one of us, it’sme. For good reason.”
“She trustsbothof us more than we deserve.” The teasing look is gone, and I know exactly why. We share a secret, and even though it was just one dumb night seven years ago and its power should be entirely gone, in moments like this, it almost feels like every year we’ve kept it hasincreasedits power.
“You know,” Jack says in a low voice, “she didn’t talk to me for almost a year after things with Carly went down the drain.”
Ah, Carly. I’ve never met the girl, but I know plenty about her. She was Madi’s best friend in high school. She and Jack dated just after her senior year. Then he broke up with her, and she ditched Madi as a friend.
“So,” Jack says, “even ifweknow she has no reason to worry—”
“Anything to even remind her of what happened might be enough to bother her.”
He nods, sits up, and rests his head against the headrest just as the engines gear up for takeoff. “I want to be a good brother to her.”
I’m not sure if he even meant to say that aloud, given how soft it was.
“Well,” I say, “I’ve got a spreadsheet full of ways for you to do just that. Besides, Madi’s a rational woman, Jack. She might tease you for the past, but I don’t think she’s worried about it. She’ll be glad to have your help.”
“Maybe so,” he says. “But I have a tendency to ruin things for her.”
The engines gear up, drowning everything out, and I take out my Kindle.
We haven’t even reached cruising altitude when Jack’s shoulder bumps into mine. I glance at him just as his head tips over, and he slumps onto me.
Oh, joy.
And just like that, I’m in a predicament. Do I wake him up like a jerk? Or do I accept the role of Jack Allred’s pillow for the time being?
Thankfully, my bony shoulder rouses him, and he sits up, blinking. “Sorry.” The man only slept an hour last night, and he looks exhausted, and yet somehow still very beautiful.
He reclines his seat the full inch our coach tickets allow, then closes his eyes again, and I go back to reading my book. Narrow escape.
I’ve read almost a chapter when, from the corner of my eye, I note Jack’s body tipping again. Except this time, it’s tipping away from me and onto the unsuspecting passenger next to him.
The young woman’s anxious gaze moves from Jack’s ever-nearing body to me, pure terror there. I could shake him awake, but he’ll just fall asleep again, and since he’s clearly incapable of sitting up while he sleeps, I only have one option.
Pulling up the seat divider between us, I grab his arm and pull him toward me. He doesn’t wake, nor does he resist.
And that is how I find myself with Jack Allred sleeping on my shoulder and, eventually, on my lap. It looks terribly uncomfortable, his legs in a sitting position and the rest of his body in a lying position. But he sleeps like that for almost three hours while I read and try to eat my dinner fromhistray since I can’t use my own.
Once I’ve eaten and the flight attendants clear things away, the sleepiness sets in. I’m still catching up on sleep from the campaign, not to mention the precious half-hour that was stolen from me this morning.
I eye Jack’s comatose form with envy. He looks so peaceful there, so… sweet? I’ve never had the opportunity to study him without him winking at me or doing something similarly annoying. Which is exactly what makes seeing him like this so strange. No teasing comments, no boyish grins, no provocative remarks. It’s Jack Allred stripped down.
I shut my eyes.Not stripped likethat, dumb brain.That’snot a road for us to follow.
What I meant was that Jack asleep is Jack without the peacock tail, and it’s kind of nice.
I’m just having fun with you. His words from earlier pop into my head. They’re annoyingly similar to the words Mitch said to me when we broke up a few weeks ago. If you can even call it a breakup. Apparently, we weren’t ever really together. He thought we werejust having fun, because what’s more “fun” than sayingI love you? It’s a hoot!
But Mitch is not the first guy to say something like that to me. I don’t know what it is about me that screamsI’m not interested in anything serious! Play with my heart!But that’s the message men are getting, loud and clear. 10-4, good buddy. Six months before Mitch, it was Adam, and before that, it was Dallin.
Jack shifts slightly in my lap.
It’s for the best—how things happened with Jack and me. Okay, not thebest. The best would have been nothing happening in the first place. But I can definitely see how, if it hadn’t turned out that Madi was his sister, I would’ve fallen for Jack Allred. Maybe even fallen hard. It wouldn’t have ended well. My relationships neverhaveended well. They’ve just ended quickly. And things with Jack? Well, they ended before they ever began.
As for now, Jack’s here to help with the wedding, and even though it would be a lot easier if he was a little more Shrek and a little less Flynn Ryder, it’s nothing I can’t manage.
