Page 31 of Forever Wild
With a huge eye roll, I move to him. “You can but you don’t have to,Jackson.”
He definitely glares at me and I fight a smile.
I wrap one arm around his waist and nuzzle carefully against his side. He has little choice but to drape his cast along my shoulders. Though it doesn’t feel like he’s letting me take much of his weight.
He grumbles and that uneasiness I was feeling from his happy attitude dissipates. It’s good to be back on normal footing with him.
Once we settle into place with me helping him, a new kind of awareness hits me. The smell of him, burnt oranges and cinnamon and something else – something rich and lush, is like a drug. So are the hard ridges of muscle in his back and stomach. I’m not sure we’ve everbeen this close, and I wish I could say that I am completely unaffected.
“Anywhere else you need to go?” I ask.
“Nope.” He removes his arm as we approach his vehicle. “You can drop me off and then you’ll be finally free of me.”
Something about that isn’t as freeing or as comforting as I imagined.
We ride in silence back to his house. I come to a stop behind my car and run my hand along the steering wheel, enjoying the soft, warm leather. I love my car, but I’m going to miss driving this one.
“Thank you,” he says softly as I shut off the engine.
“You’re welcome.”
We sit in the quiet car, neither of us moving.
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick to you. The accident and my dad…” He trails off, some of that moodiness returning as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fine.” His voice takes a hard edge. “People shouldn’t treat you like shit. Least of all me.”
I have no idea what to say to that. He’s right, though. It’s not fine. But I’ve given Jack plenty of reasons over the years to be a jerk and I know he’s going through a lot. And it’s not like I haven’t given it right back to him.
“Okay, well, how about a clean slate then?”
He snorts a quiet laugh. “Seriously?”
“I can admit that I have enjoyed riling you up a time or two.”
“A time ortwo?”
“Fine. It’s basically a hobby at this point.”
The smile Jack aims at me makes warmth spread through my chest.
“I should go,” I say finally.
“Should I expect to find you in my backyard later?”
“I don’t know. Is that an invitation?”
“Since when do you need an invitation?” He cocks a brow and a little of that bear I like to poke resurfaces.
Despite leaving things on good-ish terms, I don’t see Jack for several days. When I do my daily check-ins at his teammates’ houses, I look down the street for signs of life. Unknown vehicles, lights on, but I don’t see or hear him.
On Wednesday afternoon we hit a rare ninety degrees and I finally cave.
I knock on the door instead of bulldozing in the front door (or over the fence). I don’t really expect him to answer, but when he does, all thoughts fly right out the window.
Gone is the wild beard. The cast too. There’s no sign of the cane either. Or maybe his shirtless appearance just won’t let me see it because goddamn is the man a sight to behold in all his bulging bicep and ripped ab glory.
