“Is that so? Then why are your cheeks so red, T? What is it? Come on, you can tell me,” he goads.
Covering my face with my hands, I mutter, “Have an orgasm.”
I peer between my fingers at him when I feel the truck slow to a halt. Jax puts the truck in park before turning to face me and slinging his right arm over the back of the bench seat. With his other hand, he unbuckles me and pulls me toward him.
“What does that mean?” he asks, his voice raspy and sexy as hell.
“It means I-I’ve never . . .” I start to stammer so I take a deep breath. “I’ve never had one before.”
“Ever?” he questions, and I nod in response.
“Like even by yourself?”
Shaking my head, I whisper, “Never.”
Jackson faces forward and drops his head back against the headrest. “Baby,” he groans, dragging his hands down his face.
“I figured you knew I was a virgin . . .” I tell him, trailing off awkwardly because this conversation is so outside my comfort zone.
“I mean, yeah, I figured that.” Turning to face me again, he takes my hands in his. “And regardless of your virginity, I never want you to feel like I’m pushing you for anything—you set the pace with everything, Tae. I mean that.”
Biting my bottom lip, I feel my cheeks heat further. “I know that,” I murmur, looking down at our hands.
Lifting my chin, he says, “I’m serious, T. You’re in charge.”
Chuckling, I shoot him a wink. “As if I didn’t already know that.”
“There’s my girl.” Jackson brings me in for a hug, but before he pulls away, he whispers, “Don’t you worry about the last item on your checklist—I’m making it my life’s mission to be the one to give you your first orgasm. When the time’s right.”
My stomach knots as heat pools in my core, and the only relief I find is rubbing my thighs together. But what hits me like a drug to my system is the love swirling in my heart for this boy.
10
Now
Rushing up the steps to the front porch, I nearly fall as I slip on the snow-covered cement. But I just couldn’t help myself, everything looks so beautiful. There’s got to be nearly two dozen pine trees of all shapes and sizes, each lit up and standing in planters on the front porch.
Snow flurries whip around us, giving the feeling of being in a snowglobe. But I don’t feel trapped here in this moment the way I imagine I would if I were truly stuck in a glass bubble. No, instead, I feel freer than I’ve ever been. Tossing my arms out wide, I spin in circles as I throw my head back in a fit of carefree laughter. This. This is what living is for. These moments of complete clarity with no one but my best friend by my side.
I tell myself to stop acting like a fool—to try to play things cool—but I can’t help myself.
“Please be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt,” he pleads, his voice laced with worry. I stop dead in my tracks as the deep baritone caresses my eardrums.
He? Wait, why is my best friend a he? Where is Ryan?
“Are you alright, baby?”
Baby? Why is Ryan calling me baby?
“Fuck, what’s happening? Should I call the doctor?”
No! No more doctors. I’m tired of fighting.
“Thorn! Baby, stay with me.”
Thorn? Oh, fuck. Jackson. Jackson’s my best friend. And I need to stay with him. He wants me to stay with him. But why is he so blurry? And why do I feel like I’m falling?
I’m always falling when it comes to this boy. But he’s no longer a boy; he’s a man now. A very handsome, beautifully broken man. It’s only now, as I somehow lay in his arms and he brushes his warm, calloused hand against my bare scalp, that I realize I must’ve fallen and he’s caught me.
