“I didn’t get properly tested until I was fourteen. Way too late. Before that, everyone thought I was stupid.” He looked at her then, as grim and guarded as he’d ever been. “Not a lot changed afterwards, to be honest.”
Without thinking, Leah reached her hand out toward him. Jackson hesitated for so long she almost took it back but finally he slid his palm across hers and slowly curled his fingers around her own.
“I failed every test I took. I dreaded anyone—other kids or teachers—finding out I couldn’t read. I have mild dyscalculia, too. I struggle with putting numbers in order, and memorizing multiplication tables was impossible. Phone numbers still cause me problems. All in all, I found school exhausting.”
“I didn’t enjoy it either,” she admitted. “I tried so hard to make friends, but kids are brutal if they sense you’re desperate.” Leah tried to imagine a surly and struggling ten-year-old Jackson and wished they’d been able to help each other. “Recess and lunch were my worst nightmare. It was so much effort to put myself out there and try to fit in.”
Jackson’s lips curved in sympathy. “Mine was being called on to read aloud.” He shuddered. “If I ever thought it was going to happen, I’d punch someone first so I’d get sent out of class. I was constantly in trouble.”
“Coping mechanisms come in all shapes and sizes.” His smile felt like a victory and she gave his hand a squeeze. “Fortunately, our school days are behind us now and dyslexia doesn’t have to be your defining characteristic anymore.”
“Try telling that to my parents,” he rasped, turning his face from her. “And don’t forget I’m also a dick. I like to offer people two defining characteristics to choose between.”
Leah could tell he believed it, too. “You’re not really a dick. I am an exceptionally good judge of character and you’re easier to like than you might believe.”
Jackson gave a soft snort. “Well, you’re the only one who’s ever said it.”
She smiled. “I am gifted with great insight. It’s a blessing and a curse.”
His mouth twisted. So sexy, so appealing. Leah fought to lift her eyes from his lips. When she did, she found Jackson watching her.
Shit.She was still holding his hand.
“Right, if I’m reading then comfy clothes are required!”
She was off the bed and halfway out of the room before she’d finished speaking, trying to ignore how hard it had been to let go of his fingers.
Chapter 20
Jackson
He hadn’t prepared himself for Leah’s loungewear. When she danced back into the bedroom ten minutes later, waving a book, he was still obsessing over the feel of her fingers curled around his own.
“Found it!Traces of Chalk. Clayborne Knight’s first outing. Prepare to be entertained.”
The jeans were gone. For a brief second, he thought nothing had replaced them as Leah’s smooth bare legs stretched below the hem of her sweatshirt, with just a fresh pair of woolen socks on her feet. It was only as she crawled onto the bed beside him that Jackson saw she had jersey shorts under the baggy top and his heart stopped lurching like a drunkard.
Wedging the pillows into position behind her, she leaned back against them.
“Are you ready, or do you need anything before I start?”
Her concern hit him in the stomach. Had anyone ever asked him that? Had anyone ever even checked on him with a migraine or fetched him crackers or stroked his hair?
“I’m fine,” Jackson choked out, closing his eyes as Leah began to read, allowing her voice and scent to surround him.
As his breath became long and slow, every part of his body relaxed into the mattress. He wanted to watch Leah’s expressive face as she read but it felt too intimate. He didn’t have the nerve to open his eyes. Strangely greedy for everything she was willing to give him, empty of anything to offer in return, Jackson let himself drift.
He stirred sometime during the evening when Leah’s hand landed on his chest, her fingers twitching against his skin. Opening his eyelids reluctantly, he gathered scrambled senses and foggy memories together in a search for clarity. Leah lay beside him, framed in a cloud of dark hair. Eyes closed, tactile lips ever so slightly open. He blinked stupidly and her fingers jerked again.
She’d started to shiver as the temperature dropped. When she’d broken off reading to fetch a blanket, Jackson had merely lifted the top cover instead and thrown it over her legs, not wanting her to leave, even for a moment. She’d read to him for hours. Every time she’d suggested stopping, he’d asked her to continue and she’d happily carried on. Her melodic voice soothing his head, his chest, his heart.
He couldn’t help but smile at how restless she was, even in sleep, pushing at the comforter and bringing a knee up against his hip. Jackson’s skin prickled with heat at the contact despite the sheets that lay between them. His groin tightened and he held his breath. Leah settled again, leaving her leg where it was. It felt like a brand on his thigh and he fought the urge to close his fingers around her hand still curled on his chest, settling instead with reaching over to touch the end of one of her curls, satisfying his need to discover if it was as soft as it looked.
It was softer.
Her hair fascinated him; for weeks now he’d been desperate to thread his fingers through the strands. The urge to do it was becoming an obsession. Trying not to be a creeper, he attempted to fall asleep again but his eyes kept getting drawn back to her face.He wondered why the faint creases on her cheekbone from the pillowcase were so appealing.
With Leah beside him, he felt like some of his jagged edges were smoothing from the inside out. No one had been on his team since Dom had died, and he’d reacted by putting up barriers and keeping everyone at arm’s length. It had seemed so much easier that way. But Leah had lost people, homes, a whole life, and her generosity of spirit was undimmed. Jackson didn’t know how she did it.
