“Ok showgirl, show me what you got.”
The song switches over to a slower one and Jason Aldean’s voice comes over the speakers as we sway.
I let out a breath, “Jackson, if we’re going to do this, you need to avoid situations like that.”
“Green is a good color on you?—”
“I’m just saying that if we are together, you need to avoid–”
He interrupts me. “It’s okay, you can be mad.”
“You have to try to avoid the girls who approach you. The ones who are looking to cause a scene. The press will pick it up and make it look worse, make it look as if you’re cheating.”
“You can tell me, you know.”
I throw up my hands and try to step back, but his arms lock around my waist so all I end up doing is pushing my chest into his. “Fine! You’re right! It made me mad.”
“There she is,” he says.
“I’m putting on a show like we’re supposed to be doing,” I reply curtly, annoyed he called me out.
“We’re still doing that?”
“Jackson, stop.”
He laughs lightly, acting innocent. “Stop what?”
“You’ve been drinking. Don’t confuse what we’re doing here.”
“I’ve had two beers; you’re the one shooting truth serum.”
“Truth serum? All I said was I was mad those girls were all over you. I mean,all over all of you. It’s disrespectful. I’m sure they saw the press release; they know who you are and that you’re taken.”
“Taken, huh? I like how that sounds.”
We stare at each other for a few moments. I’m lost in his chocolate eyes. Is this still a show?
“Yo, Gage!” I hear my brother call out, and it pulls me from my trance. “Gage!”
“Jackson, Adam is calling. You better turn around.”
He spins us slowly, making eye contact, and Adam says, “Watch those hands.”
I cringe and drop my head as Jackson calls back to him, “She’s mine now, Casanova.”
My heart races and I lift my head, my eyes connecting with Jackson, surprise on my face, he has nothing but smug written all over his.
“Still playing the part?” I question.
“That’s up to you,” he replies. I furrow my brows and stare at him, trying to understand what he’s getting at and what’s happening right now. These feelings that I have, the look on his face plus the anger that’s rolling off of Adam, leaves me confused. When I remain silent, he shakes his head and takes my hands as we walk off the dance floor back to the table. I trail behind, my mind spinning.
* * *
The next morning, I wake up tired. I didn’t sleep, replaying the night and our conversation, in my head. We wanted the town to see us as a couple—touchy, lovey and together with our group. Showing that our friends and families are all accepting and excited about us.
This was all part of the plan. So why am I having second thoughts about what it all means? We agreed it was platonic. I’m just helping him out. This is typical of me, though, it’s what I do. Spiral with my thoughts, thinking there’s more. Trusting too quickly.
I trusted Jackson once, and he left.
