Love and Relativity (9 page)

“And your mom? You said she was sick?”

“Yeah, past tense. Cancer. Died young, my freshman year of high school. I still visit her grave every week. Lilies and irises, they were her favorite.”

A lump formed in my throat at his admission, and again, all I could think to myself was,
how did I not know about this
? I’d spent the past few years seeing him every Friday night. Talking, fighting, laughing, playing comfortable, friendly enemies. Our conversations had been all over the map, and yet the most basic, significant details of his life were completely foreign to me.

I guess that went both ways.

“Jack—”

“Don’t, okay?”

“Don’t what?”

“Pity me. If there’s one thing in this entire universe you and I
actually
have in common, it’s an aversion to pity.”

“Well, that and we both like Sublime.” I gave him a small smile.

“Huh.” He caught his lip between his teeth and narrowed his eyes, as if to consider that thought. “I guess you’re right. Damn, we’re on a roll. Two whole things in common. We need to find three and we’ll be on a lucky streak.”

“I don’t believe in luck. I believe in fate.”

“Come on, Em. We’re looking for commonalities here. Work with me, will ya?” Soft laughter shook his body.

I tilted my head back against the windshield and let his laughter seep into me. It was hearty and deep, coming straight from his core. A great sound. He pushed aside his food tray and joined me, lying back to let his head touch the glass. My hands clasped together over my belly and his rested casually at his sides, I let one drop to the hood and reached for his fingers to give them a good squeeze. He’d picked me up when I was in a heap on the side of the road and wrapped me in a blanket when I needed comfort.

It was the least I could do.

“I don’t pity you. I care about you and I’m sorry to hear you went through all of that...maybe more sorry I didn’t know you went through it all until now. I don’t see you as this weak little person, Jackson. You’re strong and bold. You live life fully. Anyone can see that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I dragged my gaze from the sea of stars above us to search his face. “Can I ask you something, though?”

“Shoot.”

“Is it true? That you didn’t want to go to college? Or was it because...you couldn’t...because of money and stuff.”

“Both. I was never crazy about the idea of going to school. High school was enough for me. It’s not that I don’t want to learn or anything, it’s just I had different plans.”

“Oh?” Last I had heard, he was still working down at the marina, doing boat maintenance for the locals, and odd jobs here and there during tourist season for some extra cash. If Jackson had any plans, they were lost in the shuffle, buried beneath his fun-loving, fly-by-the-seat-of-your pants attitude and his weekly escapades at Pete’s.

“Yeah, well. They’re more like dreams now than plans. I still have my dad’s old sailboat. We were fixing it up together, giving it a face lift before my mom died. After he got locked up, it was left to me and I let it sit for a few years. I’d kept it up and all, but never took it out or anything. I had no idea how long he’d have to serve time. His sentence kept changing, and eventually, I realized he wouldn’t be out in time for my high school graduation, which is when he’d promised we’d take it out again. I had this crazy idea that when I graduated, even though he was still doing time, I could pick up where we left off and clean it up real good. You know, live the dream for both of us. Then take it around the world or something. I figured I’d find work anywhere. It would’ve been perfect for me. I’d rather that than be tied down to one place for the rest of my life, anyway.”

“Sounds like Jen,” I said. The sound of her name was a siren, bringing all of the goose bumps on my arms to direct attention. It was so rare for me to say her name out loud, and I definitely didn’t recall saying it in Jackson’s presence since the accident. “She never wanted to be tied down. She was such a free spirit. She used to make me promise. She’d say, ‘now Emma, swear to me you’ll stick to your plan to move out of state. This island is beautiful, but you’ve lived here your whole life, and there’s a whole world out there. Get the hell out of here if it kills you, do you hear me?’”

“It’s true.” He ran his thumb pad along the inside of my hand. “Sanibel’s a great place, but it’s like any other small town or small island. You either live, work, and die there, or you get out and spread your wings and never look back. I vote for the latter. It’s more liberating.”

“I agree,” I said, my voice wistful. “And yet you stay. That surprises me. You seem like a free spirit yourself.”

“I wouldn’t know where to go now, even if I had the chance to leave. I’m comfortable, I guess. There is a positive to staying put, though.”

“Which is?”

“It’s loyal, staying in one place your whole life. A commitment.”

“That’s one way to look at it, I guess.”

He inched his body closer to mine so our arms and shoulders were aligned, our bodies flat on the hood. “You can still leave, you know. Just because that Chris moron threw a temporary kink in your plans doesn’t mean you have to give them up entirely.”

“You’re right. It just never feels like the right time, now. I’m supposed to leave when I finish up my associate degree in the spring, but it’s like...I keep second guessing myself. Nothing’s the same since she died. I keep wondering if I’ll still want to leave when that time rolls around. So much can change so quickly, you know?” I didn’t need him to agree with that last thought. I didn’t need anyone to.

I knew.

In the blink of an eye, your whole world can shift, and you’re left trying to readjust the focus. By the time everything is clear again, the next season has already arrived, and the old focus is nothing but a hindrance. Distortion. Only an impression on your soul. It can contribute to your next destination, but it can’t sustain you or slow down your evolution.

“You’ll know when the time is right. But I’m with Jen. Whatever you do, don’t give it up. Live for the rest of us who can’t.”

“I won’t give it up. Thanks. You can count on me.”

Leaning up on his elbows, Jackson exhaled and glanced back up at the sky. “Guess we better hit the road.”

I sat up to join him, my high heels grinding against the hood as I scooted my legs down to reach the ground. “Hey.” I tugged his hand when he stood to his feet. He shuffled closer to the end of the hood and rested his palm on my thigh, grazing it with his fingertips, sending a shiver down my back. “This Chase guy is an asshole. Whatever he said about your dad being in jail, don’t give it a second thought.”

“But I do think about what he said. All the time. That’s why I lost it, had to get out of there. Because I hate facing it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I hate facing that he’s
right.
He said I’m nothing, just like my dad. It’s true. My dad had it all and fucking lost it. I remember who he was before my mom died. He was a good man. Loyal, hard working...
happy
. At least he had something to lose in the first place. But me? I’ve been broke from day one, Emma. And it’s only getting harder. It’s a miracle this piece of crap truck made it up here. It should’ve died months ago. I shouldn’t have even spent gas money to come up here, but I needed to breathe, for just two days. Needed to get off that damn island. I don’t have shit to show for myself and I’m 24 years old. Most people my age at least have an idea of what they want to do with their lives, have some kind of direction. Pete’s is the highlight of my week. I can laugh there, be stupid. See my friends, see—” He paused. “It’s the only time I can turn it all off.”

I scooted forward and let my heels hit the dirt, straightening on my feet to bring myself level with him. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think it, Jackson, do you hear me?” I didn’t think, just moved. My hands gripped the nape of his neck, my eyes burning into his, lips pressed tight. “Anyone can find themselves on the path your dad did. No one is
better
than anyone else. Even the most successful people fall. When people are terrified and heartbroken, they do crazy, irrational things. Your father might be a part of you, but you are not
him
. You’re your own person and you have a choice to do things differently. Don’t let Chase—or anyone else—put your father down or make you feel less than you are. Your dad might have screwed up, but he’s still
something
. And I know I don’t know him, but I guarantee you, you’re everything to him. You’re his legacy. You’ll always be something to someone.”

Taking my face in his hands, he bent down and pressed his forehead to mine, his breath shaky against my cheek. “Why did you leave with me tonight?”

“I don’t know, I—” Even though I’d asked myself the same question earlier that night, words were lost to me. I came because I wanted to be with him, wanted to comfort him somehow, to reciprocate. But I couldn’t say it, not now. I didn’t want to dig up what I had worked so hard to bury for the last year. But I could still offer him truth.

“Because I care about you.”

His fingers slowly uncurled from my cheeks and his forehead left mine. Like a mask, his fervent expression turned resigned, his eyes lifting and focusing absently on the darkness behind me.

“We should go,” he said, giving my cheek one last soft brush before returning his hands to his sides.

We parted and turned for the truck doors. The engine roared and the headlights flickered, and I reached for my seatbelt.

Jackson’s hand stopped me. “C’mere.” He rested his arm on the back of the seat and motioned for me to scoot next to him. I hesitated just long enough to study the crook of his arm, the way it formed a curled opening just big enough for me to fit, and then I was folded into it, sighing a content, deep breath, my head gently falling to his chest. His sigh mimicked mine and he shifted gears, pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the highway. My eyelids grew heavy and I drifted into an easy sleep, Sublime’s “What I Got” buzzing faintly on the radio.

Chapter 5

“Emma.” Jackson’s breath stirred my hair. “Wake up, we’re home.”

“
Hhhmmm
?”

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.”

I sat up and stifled a yawn, moving to slide to the other end of the seat. I reached for the door handle and glanced down at my feet, struggling to see where I’d dropped my purse.

“Looking for this?” Jackson stretched to the middle console and pulled out my small black clutch.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

He handed it to me and gently caught my wrist, his eyes finding mine in the dim parking lot light. “I had a good time with you tonight.” I remained still, the air in the truck thick as the need in his voice. It was a statement, but something in his tone made it sound like a request. His other hand came up and cupped my thigh. He grasped hard and swung my leg around to pivot my waist, then wrenched me back over the seat toward him, the bare skin of my calves slipping around his hips until our bodies collided. He moved so fast, I didn’t know where his breaths began or mine ended, didn’t know when the space between our mouths disappeared.

All I knew was I intended to keep it that way.

His fingers threaded through my hair and his tongue slipped into my mouth. I opened wide for him and moaned into the kiss, allowing all of the night’s tension to melt there, gasping against him when he hooked one of my legs tighter around his side, digging my high heel into his back. The pressure coaxed a low growl from deep in his throat and he nipped my lip before drawing it back to his tongue, inching his fingers beneath the back of my shirt to smooth them over my spine. I was planted firmly on his lap now, my fingers clawing at the back of his neck.

There were countless reasons to push him away. Too many reasons to stop this—whatever this was—and go straight into my apartment before we did anymore damage. But my insides were on fire, my skin singing from his touch, and a vague ache deepened in the pit of my stomach, one that had wanted to know what it would be like to kiss Jackson again. This time without any reservations.

I squeezed my thighs tighter around him and sucked his tongue. He was every inch as delicious as I’d remembered, and even more so. No matter how desperately I tasted him, I couldn’t get enough. Unable to control my hands, I slipped them under his shirt to trace the contour of his chest and down the slope of his abdomen. Goose bumps shot up my arms when he leaned back to let me feel him, dropping his hands to find my ankles, rubbing his fingers against them in soothing, circular motions.

Sense dug its claws into me. I dragged my lips from his and pushed off his chest, landing on the heels of my hands. “Jack—”

“Yeah, baby?” His voice was low, rough, fingers still playing with the skin of my ankles. “Tell me what you want.”

“Will you walk me up? You can stay...we can put more ice on that eye.”

He paused a beat and grazed his nose over mine and laughed, the husky sound making my fiery insides flare, his hot breath tickling my cheek. “Oh. Yeah, sure.” He drew his head back and cleared his throat. “Sorry, but I couldn’t help myself, Em. I’ve been dying to taste you for so long. I can’t get that night out of my head, you don’t even know, baby. I know you made yourself clear with where we stand and all, but I can’t—”