“No.” She shakes her head. “When did you have time to make one up with Edward?”
“New Year’s, last year, I think? I was hanging with the kids on the porch for a while. I escaped to better company because Maeve was forcing everyone to play one of her boring games.”
“Oh.” Her reply comes out a whisper. Her eyes study me, and maybe I imagine it, but there’s less apprehension than before. Which is good. Because I came here with a purpose.
“I was hoping we could talk.”
“You want to talk?” Her voice is stronger, and that annoyed anger is back in the hardness of her stare.
“Yeah, well, when you left . . . there were things I didn’t get to say.”
“Okay.” She lifts her chin defiantly. “Was that before or after you took Steph Gallagher’s cousin home?”
I blink once. Then again. Obviously, someone saw me walk Steph’s cousin out of The Mud Lounge last Saturday night. Was I planning to go home with her in an attempt to forget Rosalie? Yeah. Could I do it? I couldn’t even get myself to walk her to her door. A grin spreads across my lips. Not for the town gossip, but for the fact it concerned Rosalie enough to tell me. Clearly, she must care a little. She must, or this wouldn’t bother her.
“What?” She bristles. “What’s so funny?”
“I didn’t sleep with her.”
“I wouldn’t care if you did.”
“No?” I tilt my head to the side. All humor drains from my face. “Because I would lose my fucking mind if you slept with someone else.”
Rosalie lifts her chin to meet my gaze as I take another step closer. I reach for her, sliding my hand along her hip and invading her personal space. Her lips are painted in the prettiest pink, and the desire to kiss them is so strong, I almost forget what I came here to propose.
The creek of the front door pushes us apart before Edward’s wet head pokes out through the opening.
“I’m ready for popcorn!”
“That was a quick shower.” Rosalie stares at his hair. “Did you wash your hair?”
“I washed my hair and my body.” He nods, then turns his attention to me. “Mr. Jackson, are you here for movie night?”
“If your mama lets me,” I reply to him, then turn my attention to Rosalie. “I’d love to.”
“Please, Mama! Please can Mr. Jackson stay and watch our movie?”
I could high-five this kid again. He’s put her in a position where she has to let him down to push me away, and something tells me she won’t do that. I couldn’t have planned it better myself.
She sighs. “He can stay.”
“Yay! I’ll get the bowls out!” And just like that, he disappears behind the door again.
I can’t help but grin. “So, movie night, huh?”
“You don’t have to stay.”
“There’s nothing I’d like more than to snuggle with you on the couch.”
“Jackson.” She shoots me an exhausted glare.
“I’m only joking.” I’m not. “But I would like to stay.”
“Look, if you’re expecting?—”
“I expect nothing,” I interrupt. “I came here tonight because I want to court you. If you’ll let me.”
“Court?” Her lips twitch with the urge to smile.
