‘She’s only kidding,’ I said, settling against the back of the sofa with my arms folded. ‘She doesn’t mean anything by it.’
He cupped the back of his neck and gave me a cockeyed grin.
‘Yeah, she does. She loves you, Em, she doesn’t want to share. Trust me, I get it.’
I made myself laugh, though it didn’t feel like an especially funny statement.
‘Well, she’ll just have to learn,’ I said. ‘You’re allowed to love more than one person.’
‘I’m glad we agree on that.’
A light breeze rustled the leaves of the tree painted on the wall behind him and a flock of tiny bluebirds alighted on its tallest branch, eyeing us with interest, but if Jackson noticed, I couldn’t tell.
‘Because, you know, it’s important to have friends,’ he said, bringing his arm across his chest to squeeze a tense muscle in his shoulder. ‘You wouldn’t limit yourself to one friend, right? Especially not at our age, especially not when you’ve just moved here and you haven’t even had a chance to meet everyone yet. How else would you know you’ve made the right friends?’
The smooth, confident Jackson was gone and he was babbling again, the same as when he stopped by to ask me to the dance. He was anxious and we could all feel it, me, the birds and the trees.
‘Jeez, Ashley’s coffee is strong enough to send a man to the moon.’ He turned his eyes up to the ceiling. ‘What I’m trying to say is, I heard what Lyds said.’
‘About what?’
‘About me,’ he replied. ‘And you.’
‘And she isn’t entirely wrong.’
Even the wisdom and knowledge of two hundred years of witches could not have prepared me for this conversation.
‘Last night was the most fun I’ve had in forever,’ Jackson said, shaking his head as though he’d tried to convince himself otherwise. ‘At least it was until a werewolf tried to rip out my guts, but honestly, it still wasn’t the worse night of my life.’
‘I know.’ I laughed nervously. ‘Alison Worthy, eighth grade Valentine’s dance.’
He threw up his hands as though I’d proved his point. I’d never noticed how huge they were before, easily big enough to palm a basketball. No wonder he was so good at it.
‘See?’ he said. ‘You listen, you get me. I’ve never felt more myself with anyone, ever.’
‘Yes, because I’m your friend.’
He took a step towards me and I snatched in a breath. Somehow I was more tense standing in front of Jackson Powell in my own home than I was facing off against a wolf three times my size.
‘It’s not just the way you make me feel about myself, Em, it’s everything about you.’
Not once did he break eye contact. It was brutal, like someone holding my hand to a flame and refusing to let me pull it away.
‘You’re smart, you’re genuine, you make me laugh. Do you have any idea how damn funny you are? And yes, you’re a witch, which I happen to think is very cool, but that’s only one part of this incredible person standing in front of me. Anyone alive would be lucky, so damned lucky, to get to stand beside you and say, “That’s my girl.”’
The flock of bluebirds twittered excitedly among themselves, terrible gossips that they were.
‘Thank you?’ I said when he stopped talking.
Thank you? Really? I cringed, the words echoing through my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut, wondering if there was a way to take them back.
‘And you’re the most beautiful girl I ever saw in my life.’
Jackson’s voice was so husky and low it made me shiver. I opened my eyes to see he was even closer now. ‘I could’ve lost my life last night. Worse still, I could’ve lost you. If I walked out this door today without telling you the truth, I’d be a coward.’
The caps of his shiny leather dress shoes were almost touchingmy toes and I gripped the back of the sofa behind me, no words to speak, nothing to add. Not that it was time for me to talk. Jackson wasn’t finished.
‘Wyn and I got to know each other pretty well when I drove him back to Asheville. He’s a good guy, I guess, as far as werewolves go, and I’m not the kind of person who goes around trying to steal someone else’s girl—’
