Day jumped as Bev’s hand came to rest on his back. “No need for that, but if you do throw up, do it on the gardenia bushes. They like acidic soil.” Day couldn’t help but laugh. “You got my boy fit to be tied in there, you know.”
Day stared at his hands. “I know.”
“He texted me earlier that you were probably going to come here and act as outrageous as you could. Said you were just scared and I should ignore it.”
Day’s gaze shot to hers. “He did?”
“Yep. He didn’t want us thinking you were always this…outspoken.”
Day shook his head, frustration leaching into his voice. “I am, though. Maybe not as bad as I was in there, but I pop off on people all the time, and everything I said in there was true. My mom was a stripper who left me when I was four. My grandmother was a raging addict who hated me. I don’t tell that to everybody but it doesn’t make it any less real.”
Bev rubbed soothing circles on his back. “I know. Nobody can make up that kind of story off the cuff and sound believable.”
“I keep telling Jackson I’m not worth all this effort. We don’t even know each other. I don’t understand why he can’t see that.”
Bev smiled. “My boy is a romantic, just like me. I knew I was gonna marry his daddy the moment I laid eyes on him. I just…had a feeling. His daddy always said the same about me. He just knew. My Jackson’s been waiting almost thirty-eight years to feel that feeling, and he clearly felt it with you. He’s never brought anybody home to meet us before. Ever. You might not think you’re worth all this effort, but my boy does, and he’s rarely wrong. Don’t let fear cheat you out of something amazing.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Day asked, bewildered.
“Because we are all more than our past mistakes, and if my boy wants you, there’s clearly a reason why.”
Day dropped his head in his hands once more. “I can’t believe I mimed a blowjob in front of you.”
She laughed, pulling Day close in a side hug. She smelled like roses. She smelled like a mom. “Let me tell you a story. When I was young like you, I met Jackson’s daddy. I was a hot little number back then with my fancy beehive hair and my perfect figure and this down to there and up to here gorgeous green dress that would have made Jennifer Lopez blush. Jackson’s daddy was up for a promotion, so we’re having dinner with his lieutenant and his wife at this fancy supper club that has entertainment. Right up front by the stage. Now, I’ve had more than a few drinks because this is an important dinner and I’m nervous about us being the only brown people in the room. Then here comes this belly dancer out on the stage, and well, she’s just not very good. She’s sweaty and heavy footed and stinks of cheap vodka...so I tell her so. Loudly. In front of everybody. She tells me if I think I can do better, I should show her. Day, honey, I did. I crawled up onto that stage in my gorgeous green gown and I proceeded to belly dance in front of my husband’s boss. Not well. The next morning, I was mortified. But my husband got the promotion.”
Day stared at her, wide-eyed. “Really?”
She laughed, delighted. “Yes, sir. If you help me do the dishes, I’ll tell you about the time I accidentally ended up in the men’s room by mistake and how Jackson’s daddy thought I’d ditched him.”
Day nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
* * *
Jackson didn’t speak the whole way home, and the more the silence grew, the more nervous Day became. Part of him hoped it would be like their dinner the other night when Jackson kissed him silly in the elevator, but after Day’s performance, that was hard to imagine.
On the elevator, Jackson stood beside Day, hands in his pockets, staring straight ahead as Day tried to make himself as small as possible. While his sabotage had seemed like a good idea hours ago, having to face the real possibility that Jackson was done with him, that he’d kick Day out and leave him alone to not only face a potential murderer but also a broken heart, caused a panic Day hadn’t felt in a long time.
All he could do was try to triage the situation, stop the bleeding and hope Jackson would give him another chance to at least say he was sorry. As soon as the door to the apartment closed, Day turned on him. “Jackson, I know you’re mad—”
“Day,” Jackson said, cutting him off, voice a barely there rumble. “Go upstairs to my bedroom, take off your clothes, and wait for me.”
Day’s stomach did that swooping thing once more, but, this time, for an entirely different reason. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Day licked his lips, swallowing hard. “Jackson—”
“Go. Now.”
Day shivered at the lack of emotion in Jackson’s voice, but he was already half-hard before he made it to the staircase. The trek to Jackson’s room seemed to take forever, like he was trudging through quicksand. What was Jackson going to do to him?
Day undressed, but then he wasn’t sure what to do. Did Jackson want him on the bed? On his knees? Both? Neither? He paced the room, wondering if he should fold the clothes he’d left on the floor or just leave them. The not knowing was causing a giant knot behind his diaphragm, which Day suspected was part of Jackson’s plan.
Day was facing the bed when he heard the door push open. He turned to look at Jackson, who gave Day a long thorough once over as he undid his belt and tossed it on the bed, sitting on the mattress beside the leather strap.
“Jackson, I know you’re mad…” Day tried once more.
“I’m not mad,” Jackson said, tugging Day closer. “But you’ve been begging for this punishment for a very long time.”
