“Oh.” My stomach turns over a few times. I want to see him, yes. But I thought I’d have a long drive to get myself ready. “Right. Here goes.”
With my friends wishing me luck, I head toward the open front door, then through the crush of people lingering near the threshold. I turn left, intending to take the stairs that go directly down to the pool, and end up walking right into him.
“Jackson!”
“How did you know?” he says. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt and a black mask, much like the Lone Ranger.
I can’t help but smile. “I’d know you anywhere.”
He reaches out as if to touch me, then pulls his hand away, and his tentativeness twists my heart. Yes, I think, it’s time to get past this.
“You didn’t wear the biker jacket,” I say.
“My heart wasn’t in it without my old lady.”
I swallow. “Yeah. Well.”
He points to the mask. “But I thought if it wasn’t actually me, then maybe we could talk. We need to talk, Syl.”
“You screwed up, Jackson,” I say, which is not what I was planning to say at all. But it popped out, and behind the black mask, I see his eyes go wide.
In for a penny and all that. I press ahead. “You screwed up, and you hurt me. A lot. You were so concerned about protecting me that you forgot to see me.”
“You’re right. You are.” He takes my arm and tugs me to the side, out of the flow of traffic. The touch is simple and innocent, and yet it is electric. It’s a connection. And god help me, I have missed it.
“I screwed up on a massive scale. And I’m goddamn terrified that I screwed up beyond all repair. I should never have gotten between you and your dad. I should never have taken that decision—that choice—out of your hands. I was so full up with my own shit about what a father should do to protect his child that I lost sight of the fact that the decision was yours. The choice was yours. I stole it, and I’m sorry.”
“Oh.”
I feel weirdly anticlimactic. He’s saying everything that I wanted to force him to admit.
“I love you, Syl. I love you, and I fucked up, and I will do whatever it takes for you to forgive me.”
I draw in a breath, then take a step back. “Come with me.”
I turn and head for Jamie’s condo, and I don’t look back to make sure he’s following. I pass through the crowd in the door, then glance toward the kitchen as I head for the two steps that lead up to the bedrooms. Nikki and Cass and the gang are gone, and that’s okay. I don’t need moral support anymore.
Right now, I know exactly what I need.
I try the door on the right, and breathe a sigh of relief to find it unlocked. I open it, and step inside.
Jackson enters right behind me, and I close the door, then lock it.
“You hurt me,” I say.
“I know.”
I press my lips together to fight back tears.
His back is against the door and he’s looking at me warily. “Are we okay? Syl, I need to know if we’re going to be okay.”
I hesitate. And then, very slowly, I nod. “Yes.”
For a moment, his face is simply blank. Then I see the relief flood it, so profound and powerful that it seems to propel him across the room. And then he is there, his arms around me and his mouth on mine.
The kiss is wild, hard. With teeth and tongues, as if we are trying to devour each other.
I pull away, gasping, then grab the hem of his T-shirt and pull it out of his jeans, then struggle with the button of his jeans.
“Here? Are you sure?”
“God, yes,” I say. “Please, Jackson. I need you inside me.” I need to feel his hands. His touch. I need that physical connection that is so rare and special between us.
I need to know that I am his and that he is mine, and that despite losing our bliss for a little bit, everything is back to normal.
“Now,” I say as I tug his shirt over his head, pulling the mask off with it. I pause for only a moment, looking at the man I’ve revealed. The man that I love. Then I turn my attention back to his jeans, unzipping them, tugging them down, and then gasping at the mark on his pelvic bone, nestled into the triangle formed by his thigh and pubic hair.
SB—right there, and freshly tattooed.
I look up at him, my breath catching in my throat.
“Cass did it earlier today. I needed to be close to you.”
I make a small noise that does nothing to reflect how much that simple act has moved me. I try again. “Jackson,” I say, and that is all that I manage before the heat that has been flaring in his eyes seems to explode out.
“Baby, I can’t wait.”