Same time next week, p.24
Same Time Next Week, page 24
And he wouldn’t have been forced to simply accept it without so much as a whimper.
Jackson
There were a few lights on inside—the kitchen, the hallway, the lights above the steps. Jackson moved slowly, rounding the corner into the kitchen. He tossed his keys across the counter and glared at the beautiful, statuesque woman standing in the middle of the room, guzzling a beer.
“This shit tastes stale,” she mumbled, tossing the bottle into the empty recycle bin next to the refrigerator.
“It is,” he said, dropping his satchel on the counter next to his keys and slowly crossing the threshold of the kitchen. “It’s months old. I haven’t been here in a while.”
She nodded, rubbing her belly through a silky blouse with long, fluttering sleeves. “That explains why it tastes like shit.”
Jackson got right to the point, not in the mood for small talk about beer. She wasn’t a part of the family, anymore. “Why are you here, Kim?”
Her eyes dropped to the floor, following the nervous tapping of her toes against the ceramic tile. Her jeans were nearly painted on her body, her feet wrapped in leather Louboutins, her hair full and bouncy. She looked great. Really good, actually. Kim shrugged a shoulder, smiling shyly.
"I heard you were in town." She stood up straight and crossed her arms over her chest. Jackson watched her limbs move gracefully, and then couldn’t stop staring at her chest, accentuated by her arms crossed under it. “I can’t come by and say hi?”
“No,” he said, the word falling out before he even knew he was saying it. “No, you can’t come by and say hi. Not when you left me by sneaking out while I was working and left a letter about how you weren’t in love with me and I never saw you again.”
Jackson paced the length of the kitchen, walking past Kim one way and then another, ranting. “I waited for you, you know. I waited a long time to hear from you. I waited for some kind of explanation of what I did wrong. What was it that I did to make you leave me?”
He shook his head slowly, his narrow eyes staring her down.” And now I don’t care.”
“I made a mistake, Jackson. I never should have left.”
“Damn right, you shouldn’t have.”
“I mean it.” Her eyes pleaded with him, following his every move from one end of the kitchen to the other. “I loved you. I did. You know I did, or you wouldn’t have been so confused and messed up after I left. I knew you were about to propose and I…I freaked out. I thought I wanted something different and I didn’t know if I even deserved you. I found out the hard way that I didn’t. I heard you were in town and I wanted to see you. To see if you still felt the same and maybe if you did, we could start over. I’d like that.”
While she spoke, Kim was inching toward him until she was directly in front of him, so close that he could smell her perfume. That scent, as it filled his nose, was familiar. That voice and those eyes and that hair, it was all familiar. Memories rushed to mind—the good times, the times before things fell apart, the times when, at least he thought, they were happy.
Kim stretched up onto her toes and wrapped both arms around Jackson’s neck, stepping even closer, so close that he could feel her body heat and every curve, all the way down her body. His body responded by instinct. She was warm and soft and smelled good. He didn’t like it but couldn’t help it. She smiled up at him, grinding against him.
“Hi, old friend,” she murmured, her voice husky, her breath curling up around his neck, tickling his skin. She rotated her hips, pushing herself up and into him.
Jackson’s breath quickened as he became aroused against his will. Except it felt good. So good. He had missed her, but missed Shelby more. Shelby was more difficult than Kim, though. Kim was simple. Easy.
“I uhm…” He cleared his throat, trying hard not to touch her. “I thought you were with someone. Someone you left me for.”
She shook her head. “It ended almost before it started,” she said, her eyes closed. “I missed you, Jackson. So much. I was too proud to come back and then when I heard you left town, I blamed myself. It sounds conceited, but I did.”
She opened her eyes, shiny and rimmed with tears. He almost felt sorry for her. “I heard Rod’s song on the radio. I knew you wrote it. It has Jackson Sweeney written all over it.”
There was something about her, about her knowing him so well that she could tell when he had a hand in a song, even if he didn’t write the song originally. He’d reworked it, sure. Put his own touch on it, apparently. Obviously, it showed enough that Kim took notice. Despite the situation, he smiled, a little proud.
“Thanks, Kim. I mean that, thanks. But this…” He touched her, finally, but only to push her away. “I can’t jump back into something with you. Not after how things ended with us. It took me a long time to get over you."
“Are you over me, Jackson? You’re sweating and breathing heavy and your dick is hard and you’re scared to touch me. Are you scared you won’t be able to resist me? Are you sure you’re over me?”
She stepped close to him again, gripped him by his forearms and forced his arms around her body. Instinctively, they closed around her. “Or are you fighting this because you think you shouldn’t still want it? You think you should hate me… but you don’t. Do you?”
Words. The words wouldn’t come. ‘No’ and ‘get away from me’ and ‘I don’t want you’ and ‘I’m over you’ wouldn’t come up from his gut and out of his mouth. His mind was a swirl of what he knew was wrong but what felt so good to him. His body literally ached for human contact, the kind of contact he wanted from Shelby, not Kim. Yet he was reacting to her—the sight and sound and feel of her up against him, her lips on his neck, teeth nipping at his skin. She knew him so well, still. She knew what drove him up a wall and threw no punches, standing in the middle of the kitchen.
She must have read his mind, too. Sensing that the kitchen was the least romantic place to reconcile, Kim stepped back from Jackson, out of his arms and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the room and toward the stairs. Jackson followed blindly, helpless. Was this happening? Was he doing this?
They reached the bedroom and Kim snapped on the nearest lamp. Her eyes crawled the barren space, her face registering shock. So much of what she was used to seeing in the room was no longer there. Shadows and markings were in their place—reminders of another time. A different time.
“It’s so… empty in here,” she said. “I can’t believe this is the same place.”
“I moved everything down to Winter Park. I’m living out there. Seemed easier.”
“Oh, yeah. Rod hates LA. But I don’t want to talk about Rod right now.” In one smooth movement, her blouse was off and she stood in front of Jackson in her bra, which joined the sheer material on the carpeted floor moments later. She pushed until his legs hit the mattress and he lost his balance, landing on the bed.
Kim climbed up onto the bed to straddle him. Her jeans were tight and thin, so thin he could feel the heat coming from her core. Helpless, he laid there while she straddled him, grinding her hips against the long, hard lump in his jeans.
“God,” she moaned. “You drive me crazy. I missed you. I want to be with you. I’m sorry I left, but we don’t have to stay broken up.” She gripped him through his jeans, running her fingers along the length. “You still love me. You still want me.”
His jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped, the band of his boxers pulled down and he was exposed. The cool evening air hit his skin and his dick began to rise higher and grow harder. His head rolled back and his eyes drifted closed.
So close to giving in. Just this once. He could pretend it was Shelby. He could believe that it was Shelby hovering over him. It was Shelby that wanted him so badly that her hips were making tiny, convulsive circles against him. Those were Shelby’s breasts that he wanted to fill his hands with, her nipples he wanted to take into his mouth.
“Don’t torture yourself with trying to decide what to do. What does your body want? What does your heart want?”
Those weren’t Kim’s lips around him, her mouth sinking down on him, sucking him in. Warm. Wet. God.
His heart? His heart didn’t want this. “Stop! Kim…. No.”
He grabbed her head, pulling her away, off of him. It pained him to stop her, but he had to. She wasn’t Shelby. Kim, meanwhile, was wide eyed and panicky, moving off of him and sitting up. “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted this.”
Jackson sat up, tucking himself back inside his boxers and his jeans and zipped them again. He scrambled around the bed to pick up her bra and blouse and tossed them at her. They bounced off of her chest and landed in her lap. “I do want this. But not with you. I can’t. I can’t do this. Not with you.”
Kim’s eyes blazed with rage, her skin turning a deep crimson, a visual meter for her anger. She pulled her bra on, then yanked her blouse over her shoulders and with shaking hands, buttoned it.
“Not with me?” She huffed, rolling her eyes. “Then with who? You’re so goddamn picky, you probably haven’t had any since the last time I fucked you. Go jack off in the shower later. Are you still doing that?”
“Kim… let’s not make this ugly. I’m not the one that left. I’m not the one that snuck out of here. I’m not the one slinking back six months later, acting like nothing ever happened. Like you didn’t rip my heart out and stomp on it and then parade it up and down the street for the press. I wasn’t the one seeking out attention and playing the victim.”
Kim finished buttoning her blouse, adjusted and stood up. Despite the size of the room, she made it a point to pass Jackson so closely that her breasts brushed his arm and her hip collided with his still hard dick. She glanced down at him, chuckled and shook her head.
“Waste,” she spat, pausing in the doorway. “That’s what you are. A waste. You don’t know a good thing when you’ve got it. You could have found me, you know. I wasn’t hiding. You could have told me I was an idiot and tried to get me back. You never said anything. You never came after me. I took that as a hint that you didn’t want me back.”
Kim turned on a red-soled heel and stomped down the stairs. From three flights above, Jackson heard her heels clicking against the hardwoods and then against the tile of the kitchen, and then the front door opening.
What did she say? I could have come after her?
Jackson raced down the stairs, skipping two and three steps at a time, throwing the front door open and bounding down the front steps as Kim was getting into her car.
“Wait! Don’t leave yet! Wait!”
Kim paused, key in ignition. A smug grin bent her lips as she pushed the button to roll the window down. Eyebrows raised, she said, “Change your mind?”
He leaned against the door, almost inside the window. “You said if I would have come after you, you’d have come back. Is that true? Would you have come back to me?”
She relaxed against the leather seat. “I left because I couldn’t handle what we had. It was intense, you know? Like, really deep and I thought I wasn’t ready for that. I knew, right away that it was a mistake to leave, but I was too proud to go back. I wanted you to come find me and convince me that I was wrong to leave. When you didn’t…”
She shrugged a shoulder, looking at him, sincerity in her eyes and voice. “I figured you agreed that we should break up. I assumed I'd lost you.”
“But if I had come after you…”
“In a heartbeat,” she said, on the verge of tears, her bottom lip trembling. “Are you? Are you coming after me?”
He hated to say it. He wasn’t this guy, this mean guy that got joy out of shooting her down, even though she’d caused so much pain for him. He wanted her to be happy, even if he couldn’t bring happiness to her. He wanted to be happy, too and despite having to let her down easy, she was giving him hope.
“Kim…Honey… no. We had something great and special, something I could have lived with for the rest of my life and I’ll never forget what we had but it’s gone, now. I couldn’t ever go back to that time and that relationship because I’m not that same guy.” Before he continued, he questioned whether he should even say the words on the tip of his tongue.
“You know what, Kim? I loved you. A lot. And I still love you. You still turn me on. You always will. But… I met someone down in Florida. It’s real complicated right now, which I hate, but she loves me. I know she does. I let her walk out the door and I was licking my wounds. Waiting for her to come around. I haven’t talked to her or anything because I didn’t think I should.”
“And now you think you should? Because of what I said? That I’d have come back if you came after me?”
Jackson nodded, slightly, searching her face for an answer. Mainly, the one he wanted to hear.
“You love her?”
He nodded again. A pained expression crossed her face, very briefly, before she made it disappear, replacing it with a brave, nonchalant gaze. “Don't give up. Call her. If she wants you back, she’ll pick up.”
The answer was so simple; it could not possibly be a real answer. Just call her? Pick up the phone and call her?
“You’re not sending me to the wolves because I rejected you, are you?”
Kim laughed, wiping an errant tear crawling down her cheek. She reached up to cup his chin in her palm, stroking the stubbly hairs on his cheek. She sat up, kissed his lips lightly, then sat back and dropped her hand.
“I hope she deserves you,” she whispered, before turning the key in the ignition. The engine purred to life. Her fingers reached for the button to slide the window back up.
Jackson took the hint and stood, moving away from the car as she backed out of the driveway. The last he saw of her was a wave to him in the rear view mirror, and then the back of her coupe as she drove down the hill and turned the corner.
Shelby
Whoever was calling at dawn had to know her very well. They had to know that she didn’t sleep well, especially the past few nights and would likely be awake; otherwise a sunrise phone call was rude as hell. But this person did know her well. She was awake. Bleary eyed and exhausted, but wide awake. She hadn’t slept a wink and was lying in her bed reading when her phone alerted, chirping the cheery tune she’d picked out to identify Jackson.
She reached for the phone to send the call the voicemail, but couldn't make herself do it. Her heart beat wildly, erratic as she slid her finger across the screen.
“Hello.”
“Hi.”
Oh, God. Shelby felt like rolling over and crying for days at the mere sound of his voice, the way he said hi, how the tone of that word made her feel. Instead she tried to breathe and concentrate on talking.
Say something.
“Uhm. Hi."
“Did I wake you up? I thought you’d be awake, or at the least I could leave a voicemail.”
“No. No, I’m up.” She heaved a breath, sitting up, crossing her legs and running her free hand through her hair, though he couldn’t see her. Was this happening? Did he actually call? “Uhm. How are you?”
“I’m okay,” he said, rather unconvincingly. “I got your message. A few days ago.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry I had to do it that way, but I—"
“Me too, Shelby. As much as we’ve shared, you couldn’t pick up a phone?”
“I could have, yes,” she admitted, after a pause. “But…I was scared. And embarrassed about all of this stuff going on and how you found out about it. And pissed off that Melina found you. There were things you were never supposed to know. This is something you weren’t meant to be involved in, Jackson.”
“I know. And it sucks that I found out the way I did. But that’s the past and we can’t change that. Dumping me doesn’t make anything go away. Does it?”
“No,” she whispered. “It doesn’t.”
“Shelby…”
“What?”
“I miss you. A lot. And not because of the sex. I miss you. The sound of your voice and your smile and the way you say my name and the way you shoot tequila straight. I miss you up against me and around me. I miss you in my life. I don’t want to lose you over this. It doesn’t have to be over.”
Shelby sighed, her heart virtually crying. “It’s so much, Jackson. There’s so much that you don’t know yet and you could get wrapped up in some ugly shit. What I did was best for both of us.”
“I won’t accept it. I won’t be pushed away because you think it’s the right thing to do. It’s not. The right thing to do is to let me in, so I can be there for you, Shelby. Please.”
“I don’t have any right to ask for that or expect it. I’m some girl you met at the grocery store one morning. You were hot for me, I was hot for you and we got together and hung out some. And you’re an amazing person. Please don’t think I’m saying you aren’t. I don’t want to involve you in something that could take you down.”
“I can’t think of anything I care less about than the shit that came in that package. I get that you couldn’t tell me. I understand, Shelby. But like I said, that was the past. I know now. And I'm still here. I’m willing to fight it out with you, right here beside you."
“I hear you and I appreciate that—"
“I don’t think you’re listening, honey, because you’re not hearing me. I’m not going anywhere.”
She laughed in spite of herself. “You’re so damn stubborn!”
“I am. Especially when I think I’m right. And I do. The sooner you realize it and agree with me, the sooner we can figure out what’s going on and what to do about it.”
Shelby laid back down again, turning out the lamp next to the bed and closing her eyes. “If… if things go all stupid, I want you to know that I don’t blame you for bailing. This might be rough.”
“I’m ready. Rough is my middle name. Well, not really, it’s Scott.” He stopped to chuckle at himself. “I’ve been through a few battles in my life, though. I know a thing or two.”
