Page 60 of Until Tomorrow Comes
Jackson
“Just try it!”
“No, it’s literally pure sugar.”
“It’s literally perfection.” She counters back.
I level Kat with a half-assed scowl.
“There is no way that I am tainting perfectly good coffee withthat.”
She lets out an annoyed huff and rolls her eyes but finally relents, putting the liquid diabetes back in the refrigerator before heading out to the back deck. It’s not even a question if I should follow her or not, it’s simply natural to go with her. Every morning we walk the beach before enjoying our coffee and breakfast together.
Kat loves being outside, and if it were up to her, the weather would always be nice. She islovingthe early August heat and the fact that at eight o’clock in the morning the temperature is already in the eighties.
The heat has never bothered me much, having been born and raised in the south, I never gave warm weather much thought. However, now I find myself thanking mother nature daily for the climbing temperatures and the revealing shorts that Kat wears because of it.
My eyes trail down the length of her back as she walks in front of me. The sight of her long legs on display, knowing how they feel in the palm of my hand, has me biting back a groan.
After talking her through getting herself off twice last week, whatever invisible line we had been toeing, was practically erased. Not in the sense that we’ve fooled around or had sex since then. More in the way that the flirting and touches are no longer brief or subtle. Whenever we are within arm’s length of one another, neither of us are able to keep our hands to ourselves.
Especially when she wears these mouthwatering shorts and cropped t-shirts that show off her delicious midriff every time she stretches.
Kat sets her phone on the table, plopping back into the seat next to me and smiling at me.
“Can I ask for a fav—” She starts, but is cut off by the doorbell.
“Why does she always choose to show up before the coffee has time to make my brain work correctly?” Groaning, I let my head drop back.
“At least she’s ringing the doorbell this time?”
“That’s actually worse.”
Kat raises a brow and I sigh, dread forming and settling in my gut.
“She’s pretending to respect my space because it means she’s about to say or do something that sheknowswill upset me.” I scrub a hand over my face.
And I can take one guess at what she wants to talk about.
“Jack?” My moms voice calls out.
“Out here.” Taking a giant gulp of coffee, I brace myself for the inevitable fight.
“I’ll give you guys some privacy.” Kat whispers while we watch my mom set her purse on the kitchen island through the back door.
“Don’t leave.” My words fly out in a rush, my hand landing on hers before she can push herself out of the chair. Clearing my throat, I pull back. “Sorry, I mean, you don’t have to stay, I don’t want you feeling awkward.”
She glances quickly toward the house where my mom is now filling a mug with coffee.
“Do you want me to stay?”
I wave a hand in dismissal.
“I’m a big boy Kat, I can handle my mother.”
I think.
But Kat settles back in her seat, pushing it so she’s slightly closer to me before stretching her feet out in front of her.
