Page 103 of Feeling the Heat: Part One
I grin back at him and nod. “Absolutely.”
“So, who do you normally romance?”Jackson asks as he follows me around diligently to water the crops right after I plant the seeds. “Wait, don’t tell me. Let me guess…”
I glance over to see his tongue poking out the side of his mouth in concentration as he attempts to consider my romantic options while watering at the same time. My stomach does a little flip at how unfairly adorable this man is, and how oblivious he is to that fact.
“The older, kinda nerdy doctor, right?” Jackson guesses. “Or is that too obvious?”
“No, he’s definitely in my top three,” I reply, immediately regretting my answer when Jackson’s eyes light up.
“Ooo, who are the others?”
My heart races. I don’t want to tell him. What if he reads things into my answers? They’re pretty damn incriminating. Out of the potential romantic options in this farming sim, I love the supportive doctor, the sweet jock, and the standoffish redhead.
I swallow hard and shrug. “I like the artist girl and the programmer.”
Jackson scoffs, unconvinced by my lie. “Yeah, sure, and my favorite is the asshole megacorp guy.”
“You can’t romance him,” I reply drolly.
“I bet you like the weird shadow creature that lives in the sewers,” Jackson retorts. “You’re a little freak like that.”
I laugh and shake my head. I actually think the storyline for the platonic monster relationship is sweet, but I’m not about to tell him that and have him tease me for weeks about getting dicked down by shadow cock.
“You can hold down the button to water a larger space,” I say, seizing the opportunity to change the subject when I notice his inefficiency.
Jackson watches in awe as I demonstrate, his mouth dropping open. “Whoa, wait, what? How long has that been a thing?”
I quirk a brow at him. “What did you think was the point of upgrading your watering can?”
“Uh, for it to look fancier? I don’t know, dude, I just do what you tell me because I don’t want to get in trouble again.”
I can’t tell from his tone if he’s joking or not. “I’m not really that mean, am I?” There’s no tension in the bond, but for all I know, he’s keeping his end locked down right now.
A cheeky grin spreads across his face, the smile lighting up the entire living room with its brilliance. When Jackson smiles at me, my anxieties melt away. He’s magical that way, even if I’d never openly admit that to him.
“No, Riv. I like when you’re bossy. Plus, it’s fun to feel the little jolts of satisfaction through the bond when I do what you ask me to do.”
Fuck me. He says it with such a straight face while my perverted thoughts immediately go to wondering if, in an alternate dimension where Jackson was into men, he’d enjoy listening to me boss him around in other ways.
“See, like that!” Jackson’s grin grows even wider. “You pretend like you’re not as controlling or dominant as other alphas, but you can’t hide it from me.”
Dammit, I never should’ve agreed to keeping my end of the bond open.
It was a stipulation for us trying out this new arrangement with Camille so my packmates would know I wasn’t concealing my feelings or being self-sacrificing. I don’t have to do it all the time, but my mental walls absolutely need to be lowered while Ambrose is on his date with Camille. I agreed to it at the time, but that was because I forgot how unintentionally flirty Jackson can be when we hang out together.
At least he’s interpreting my reactions as generic alpha bossiness and not me wresting with mental images of him on his knees for me.
“I guess you’re right.” I finish off the rest of my cider and pause the game. “Want me to grab you another beer?”
“Sure, thanks man.”
Dahlia grumbles in protest as I shift her off my lap to get up, but she’s been snuggling there for the last hour, so I don’t feel too bad about it. She sleepily moves over to Jackson, who plies her with praise and belly rubs.
My cheeks heat as I turn away from the heartwarming sight, and I attempt to blame my increased interest in Jackson tonight on the alcohol and missing Ambrose. Lingering in front of the open fridge for a few long seconds, I attempt to cool off before I return to the living room.
I should be better at this. I’ve had years to perfect my detachment from my attraction to Jackson. It’s not an issue because I value his friendship far more than any inconvenient lustful thoughts. Or at least it shouldn’t be.
“Hey, you okay in there?” Jackson calls from the couch, and I flinch, closing the refrigerator door too hard and making Dolly bark in alarm. “Shh, honey, it’s just River,” Jackson soothes.
