As though wanting to weigh in on the debate, Rocket tears his attention from the window and stretches himself out before stepping off the table onto the climbing tree and racing down. He prances across the carpet, head held loftily until he reaches Jackson and starts rubbing his face against his leg.
“Oh my god, Jackson,” Steph says. “Of course you love him—he’s the cat version of Skyler.”
“Well, we are awesome and adorable in equal parts,” I agree.
Steph offers a wry smile. “I was thinking more…cocky and snuggly.”
I nod. “Well, I do like to snuggle.”
Jackson rolls his eyes and starts shuffling back into the living room, leaving Rocket meowing in displeasure.
I bend down and scoop the cat into my arms, giving his head a gentle scratch. He purrs in satisfaction and practically falls limp, making me snort with amusement as an unlikely resemblance flashes through my head. “Yeah, I don’t know. I think he’s more like Jackson.”
* * *
“Are you nervous?”Jackson murmurs into the darkness, his breath brushing my face as he speaks.
We’re curled up facing each other, with our heads barely an inch apart on Jackson’s pillow. Even in the darkness I can see the depth of love in his eyes. I can feel him reaching into my soul and brushing a reassuring hand over the name that’s been etched there for as long as I can remember. I don’t even hesitate to respond honestly. “Terrified.”
In typical fashion, he doesn’t brush me off with easy reassurances, instead lifting a hand to thread gently through my hair for a moment before quietly asking, “Why’s that?”
I let out a soft sigh. “I don’t know.”
His pierced brow arches slightly in obvious skepticism. “I think you do.”
I frown, shaking my head. “No, I really don’t. Seriously, Jax—I don’t fucking get it. I’ve been feeling good about this ever since the exams,” I remind him. “I’ve been confident. I was sure I did well. But now…” I let out a heavy breath. “I just can’t stop going over it and thinking maybe I just imagined all that. For all I know, I totally bombed—”
The corner of Jackson’s mouth twitches up, and I see a glimmer of amusement flicker in his dark eyes. Not appreciated.
“Jax, it’s not funny,” I pout. “I’m really worried here.”
This causes a full-blown smile to break across his face, and as gorgeous as Jackson’s smile is, I’m really not sure now is the time.
Before I can call him out on it, he closes the little distance remaining between us to rest his forehead against mine, his breath making my lips tingle as he murmurs his next words, “Sky, you’re not terrified of failing the Bar. You’re terrified of being wrong.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“No, it’s not.” He draws back a little to gaze into my eyes as his hand slips from my hair, down to cup my cheek. “You’re smart enough to know that tomorrow’s not the be all and end all. You’ve done all the hard work already, and we both know no matter what happens, you’re going to get your law license, even if it means taking the exam twice a year for the next five years.”
“Jesus, that sounds like a nightmare,” I grumble.
“But you’d do it.” The conviction in his words is unwavering. “You’re the most driven and determined person I’ve ever met, Sky. You’re not going to let anything stop you from becoming a lawyer—definitely not a test result.”
“But—”
He offers a soft smile and leans in to press a soft kiss to my lips. “You’re scared of being wrong. You’re scared that if you don’t pass when you felt so good about the exam it means you won’t ever be able to trust your judgement again.”
“Maybe…” I allow.
The amusement returns to Jackson’s gaze. “And maybe you’re a little worried people are going to think you’re a pompous, self-aggrandizing dick if you can’t back up all your claims of brilliance.”
My lips form a sulky pout. “You’re failing boyfriend duty right now, Jackson. You’re not supposed to make fun of me.”
He lets out a soft laugh and lowers his hand to brush his thumb over my lips. “As much as I love this pouty face, you can stop sulking. I’m not making fun. No one who actually knows you is going to think that for a second.”
I don’t think he actually meant to distract me by touching my lips, but it works all the same. I can’t stop my tongue from poking out and swirling around the tip of his thumb.
He lets out a soft little noise that clearly indicates his surprise; I don’tthinkit’s a sound of displeasure or protest, but I pull my tongue back anyway and just let my lips rest against the pad of his thumb. We’re still like that for a moment, and then Jackson slowly slides his thumb between my lips, pushing inside my mouth until I meet the resistance of the web of his hand.
