No, I fucking didn’t.
But the fact that Jackson could believe any of it? That he could look at me with those eyes I’ve come to know and think I was capable of that…
It tipped me so far over the edge that I nearly took him over with me.
And I already regret it more than anything I’ve ever done.
I’d broken something. Maybe him, maybe me. Maybe both of us.
As he looked at me with eyes full of tears and the echo of his fear and rage hanging in the air, I knew with a hollow certainty that whatever existed between us—trust, curiosity, whateverfragile thing it was—was gone now.
Since I had probably ruined everything, I decided to go for the Hail Mary. I needed one last touch, one last kiss, before he slipped through my fingers forever.
But in an unexpected turn of events…he kissed me back.
His breath trembles against my mouth, and his pulse flutters against my fingers where they’re pressed beneath his jaw, his skin warm despite the cold. Every instinct screams at me to let him go, to take a step back and give him the space he deserves.
But I can’t fucking stop.
I move forward, backing him up over the bridge until we’re on the other side. He doesn’t let go of my coat, and I don’t let go of him, our lips never parting even as I guide us toward the trees.
The night is cold and sharp as knives, but every inch of him burns.
The sound of the river blurs into the background as I open one eye long enough to choose the shortest path into the darkest shadows, forcing him in that direction. The moment his back hits a tree and he gasps into my mouth, I pull away to give us both a chance to breathe.
He peers at me through his lashes, eyes hooded and uncertain. His chest heaves, lips still parted, wet from my kiss. His hands are still on my chest, not pushing me away. His pulse hammers against my palm.
“I’ll give you two choices, Jackson.” I lean in close enough for my breath to brush his ear. “You can walk away right now. Pretend none of this ever happened.” My hand slides up, fingers sweeping along his jaw before I catch his chin and force his gaze back to mine. “Or you can get on your knees.”
For a second, I think he doesn’t understand what I’ve just said. Then my words seem to register with the slight widening of his eyes. His breath hitches, and he pushes against me, not hardenough to break free but enough that I feel the tremor in his hands. Like he doesn’twantto escape.
“Why the hell should I?”
“You shouldn’t,” I tell him honestly.
After what I just did?
He should choose the first option.
But something inside meneedshim to choose the second. Not because it’s what Iwant, but because I need to know if I’ve ruined us forever. Maybe the smartest choice would be to give it time, to give him space.
But if I have to watch him walk away, I don’t know if I could risk it again.
I lean forward and let my lips brush the corner of his. “But if there’s any part of you that still wants to be good, then you will.”
A shiver passes through him and into me.
He learned my weakness, and I learned his.
This time when Jackson pushes against me, I take a small step back, preparing myself to watch him walk away. When he drops shakily to his knees, I try hard to hide my surprise. He stares up at me, and I hope the shadows are dark enough to mask the pure relief on my face.
This may not mean he forgives me, but maybe it means hecan.
He blinks expectantly, waiting for my next move, my next command.
But…
The truth is, I don’t want him on his knees. Not right now. I just want him to always look at me the way he is now, to never again look at me like I’m the monster everyone whispers I am.
