He smirks. God, that dimple. “Filthy dirty is my expertise. I’d be more than happy to demonstrate my kink for you, maybe while my hips are pressed against yours, and I’ve got you pushed up against the wall with my hand wrapped loosely around your throat.” Jesus, he always wins. I bet Jackson gives awesome dirty talk in the bedroom, if he’s got me feeling like this over breakfast.
Trying to collect my thoughts and cool off, “Let’s just get through breakfast, superstar.”
Chapter 12
Francesca
Our first official outing as a couple went well. People acknowledged us and were genuinely happy to see us together. I got questions about how Adam feels about it, which made me nervous because if the town sees it, then it could definitely be an issue.
I’m scrolling through the pictures on my phone. I took a few this week of Jackson with his team, of him at the Roasted Chestnut—the coffee/bakery shop in town that parents of our good friend, Farrah owns, and of him helping my mom plan out the festival. If it helps promote him and the town, why not?
The flirting is still there. I have to believe it’s because he’s keeping up this charade even when we aren’t in public. It’s hard enough lying and switching back and forth between two different personas. At least this is what I’m telling myself. I cannot allow myself to fall down the rabbit hole and believe Jackson actually likes me, despite what his sister says.
I’m able to use some of my old PR contacts to find out if anyone of importance is going to be near us. I also check to see if there are any events happening that we can go to, ones that I can use to get Jackson into the public eye again.
His agent does well with those types of things, still sending him email invites to a lot of the sports world royalty events. However, there’ssomething about Tony I don’t like, and I can’t exactly put my finger on it. As his agent, when Jackson was getting into trouble, he should have put out a statement. Whether or not Jackson wanted to, it’s his duty to protect Jackson, currently and in the future. Even though it was an injury, and not his antics, as being the reason he left the NFL, those antics are hurting him now. They should have been cleared up.
My phone dings with a text, and I quickly grab it, hoping it’s Jackson. Damn, why am I hoping for this? I need to get my emotions under wraps.
I’m quickly disappointed and really need to analyze that feeling when I see it’s Nick.
Nick: You move quick! Nice to see you’re back with your boy toy. He’ll surely improve your image after being fired.
This guy! What a douche. He even used the laughing with tears out of his eyes emoji. And boy toy? What the hell does that even mean? He knows Jackson has been a family friend since way back, but that we haven’t talked in a long while. His jealousy is showing. Honestly, he’s probably afraid that me being with Gage will not only make us look good but make him look bad, if Lily’s conversation is anything to go by.
Me: Why are you texting me?
Nick: Just wanted to check in on my second fav girl. After you left so quickly, we didn’t get to discuss how things could have played out.
Played out? What is he talking about? Lily said he was bragging; I wonder what his angle was going to be? Have Gage try to win me? Would Nick have dumped me, making it out that I was cheating on him? A threesome? Oh god, I just threw up in my mouth.
Me: What the hell are you talking about? We have nothing to discuss. You and your first fav girl, Ava, I can assume, screwed me over. I’m over it. Move on.
Nick: Oh, Frankie, we can’t move on. Not when you’re still involved in PR and we’ll be seeing each other at all the functions. You’re working hard to get Gage back on the map. Just seems a little timely is all. I wanted to make sure you were good, you know, that you are thinking clearly.
I cringe at his nickname. I hated when he called me Frankie. Yes, I was named after my dad, but that’s why the nickname Chess started, so I wouldn’t be put into a tomboy classification.And what the hell is he saying, timely? What does he know?
Me: I’m not dignifying that comment with a response, nor am I entertaining this conversation any longer. Lose my number.
Nick: tsk tsk. So spicy. I’ll see you soon, Frankie
I’m boiling mad right now that he had the audacity to text me. After how we left things, he seemed upset. He was telling my brothers to apologize to me, but he never reached out on his own. Now he does, and he’s being a prick about it. I feel like a fool. I should have seen that he was using me.
I grab my list of events and my phone and push away from my desk, disgusted that asshole still has my number.
My phone dings again with a text and when I look, it’s Britt.
Britt: Do you see what I see?
I furrow my brows, wondering what she’s talking about, and then an image comes through. It’s a picture of Jackson and I from the night we broke the news to our family about our fake relationship. It was early in the night, and we’re standing by his BBQ. I had just brought out the plate of steaks to him and took up residence next to him while he grilled. I remember our exchange. It was quick and cute.
He had leaned down and whispered in my ear how wifely dutieslooked good on me. I laughed and said we went from girlfriend to wife pretty quickly. He gave me a wink and asked, ’Do you think fifteen years is quick?’ This must be when Britt snapped the picture because he’s looking at me with eyes that say he just found out a big secret and I’m looking at him in awe. I had to push down the feelings that ran through me after hearing him say that. It is a cute picture of us. Something I would consider posting to bump our profile more. I save it to my camera roll on my phone for later.
Me: I see some good-looking meat
Britt: Don’t talk about my brother’s meat
Me: LOL like I don’t hear about Bobby’s meat all the time.
