He stepped back, moving his body away from me. "Let's go and sit down. I could do with a coffee."
I followed him upstairs, suddenly feeling that although I had lived in his home as if it was my own for most of the past fortnight, I was now very much the visitor. He moved about the kitchen, expression preoccupied. I went over my words, never having been in this situation before and assessed how he had interpreted what I'd said. It was obvious.
"Decaff," he said, bringing over a pot of coffee and a jug of warmed milk. "No reason to keep ourselves awake."
"Would you rather I didn't stay?"
Jackson's eyes widened and he pushed a hand through the well-abused hair. "No, I didn't mean... fuck."
"I'm over my relationship with Richard, Jackson. That was what I meant. I didn't mean that I was upset that it was over with him, just the realization that the chapter with him has ended. I feel like a weight has been lifted, and I feel sad too, because something has ended. Does that make sense?" I poured the coffee into both our mugs as he watched me.
It was a few minutes before he said anything. Night had fallen over London, the ever-illuminated skyline underlining the fact that we were never alone. "I thought you meant that you were upset that it was over. I was assuming that I was rebound or you had realized that I was rebound. I don't want to be that, Van."
"So, I'm staying over?"
"You can fucking move in tomorrow if you want."
I didn't think he was joking but didn't ask him to elaborate. "Do you want me to tell you what we talked about?"
Jackson nodded. "Yes, but only if you want to. I don't want to be the type of - boyfriend, partner, whatever – that needs to know everything. My reaction before was unnecessary," he said contritely, drinking the coffee even though it was way too hot for me.
"I should have told you. After seeing what an idiot Richard could be and knowing what has happened legally with the business and apartment, I knew you'd want to talk about it or be there. But I needed to see him one last time to put it to bed, for it to be over. But, yes, with hindsight, we should've had that conversation." I clutched my mug, wanting to put my head on his shoulder and curl in, but feeling that now wasn't the right time. We needed that space between us.
"What did he have to say?"
I smiled, as much as Jackson was trying to act cool about it, he wanted to know and I had a feeling it was to do with a worry that I might still have feelings for Richard. I had, but not the sort that a relationship or even a friendship was built from. "He apologized. For his behavior the other week at Simone's opening and in general. He's stopped drinking. He told me about an affair he'd had and the girl told him she was pregnant." I explained the rest of the story. Jackson listened but said nothing. "I could've felt sorry for him."
"But you didn't?"
I shook my head. "No. For a few minutes afterward I felt as if I owed him, that I would never have got to this position where I own a marketing company without him, his father and his contacts, but I spoke to Simone about it afterward and she helped straighten out my head."
"I wish I'd been there for you afterward. I would've understood you needing to speak to him, Van. I'm not that much of a possessive fuckwit that I wouldn't have got it," he said, putting down his mug and standing up. He went over to the window, shoulders tense, looking out over the Thames. I watched him, still giving him space and time to think. I knew he was annoyed with himself that I had seen this side of him, a side that I knew was there anyway.
"You were all I wanted afterward," I said after a few minutes. "That's why I texted you even though I knew you had your brothers and Killian over. I'm not used to needing people, Jackson, and I wouldn't say that I needed you; I could've managed, but you were what I wanted. You are what I want now."
He didn't move, still standing there, made of stone. I went over to him, pressing myself against his back and wrapping my arms around his waist, feeling his abs through the t-shirt he wore. He relaxed, muscles easing, and I kissed his back, his hands landing on mine, and his warmth pulsating through me.
"I'm worried that you're going to wake up one morning and realize that this was just a way to move on from your past, Van, and I'm not sure how I can handle that. I know most relationships don't have fairy tale endings – for fuck's sake, Claire's been giving me lessons in ways relationships can be fucked up since she was sixteen – but I'm not sure how I would handle this," he said, avoiding eye contact through the glass.
"You're assuming a lot," I said, keeping my hands on him, chest pressed firmly into him. "You're assuming that I've not been over my break up with Richard – I was over Richard before I'd moved out. We'd stopped sleeping together nine months before we split; you're assuming that I'm in some way using you and you're assuming it's going to go wrong. Yes, when you take into account all relationships ever, most do end. But how do you know this will and is just the theoretical possibility of it ending a good reason to dismiss even trying?"
He pulled my hands apart and turned around, grinning stupidly. "Do you think you're the first ever person to ever use the phrase 'theoretical possibility' in a discussion about the relationship?"
I matched his grin. "It's quite probable."
Tender fingers brushed my cheek and he ran his thumb across my lips, still looking amused. "So, we're trying this theory, are we?" he said, his voice low and husky.
"I think it's worth a shot," I said, my fingers creeping under his t-shirt, feeling taut stomach muscles and the ladder of hair that led the way to one of my favorite things. "After all, you've got to give a website a go - to actually add to its engagement rate."
Jackson frowned. "Are you bringing work into this again?"
"It's a bad habit."
"Then it's a good thing I find it sexy and endearing."
He lowered his head to kiss me, the oxygen in the room thinning, all thoughts of past relationships melting into nothingness. I fell into the kiss and it felt new and whole, the last few months of battling with solely work, now just part of my life rather than all of it.
Something was clicking, feeling like finally, I had all the pieces right there, only I didn't quite have the skill to fit them all together.
