Jackson ducked his head with a grin, and the Saints ate it up—clapping, ribbing, the kind of rowdy love that made your ribs ache.
Hannah didn’t even need to raise her voice. She just fixed Dalton withthe look, and he hopped off the chair so fast it was like gravity tripled just for him. “Yes ma’am,” he muttered, and I leaned into Maria’s side, tickling Jewel’s bare toes. The atmosphere was triumphant, and maybe I was basking in it. Just a little. I laughed until my cheeks hurt, until Jewel’s spit bubbles felt like a crown on my shoulder, until for a second I let myself believe life could stay this loud and simple.
By the time the night wound down, the clubhouse had gone soft around the edges—guys drifting to cards in the back, Hannah herding stragglers toward the door, Maria rocking Jewel half-asleep against her chest. I tucked my acceptance letter back into my pocket, ready to head home before I crashed face-first on the couch.
That’s when Jackson found me by the door. Not with some grand gesture, not with that cocky swagger he’d perfected years ago—just standing there, uniform jacket unbuttoned, eyes steady like he’d been waiting.
“Congrats again,” he said quietly. “On Georgia.”
“Thanks.” My voice came out softer than I meant it to. “Congrats on…surviving boot camp without getting your head shaved all the way bald.”
His smile twitched. “Close call.”
For a second, neither of us moved. The noise of the clubhouse faded, and it was just the two of us, thirteen weeks stretched tight between us.
“You look…” He stopped, cleared his throat, tried again. “Different. In a good way.”
My stupid heart tripped. “So do you. Guess getting screamed at by grown adults every day for three months works wonders.”
That earned me a laugh—low, warmer than I wanted it to be. His eyes flicked down, then back. I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder, needing armor. “Don’t get used to me saying this, but…it’s good you’re back, Jackson.”
His jaw tightened like he was holding something back. I tried—and failed—not to notice the way his eyes dipped to my mouth. My pulse tripped. Then his hand came up, rough palm grazing my cheek.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It’s good to see you too, Malibu.”
It wasn’t a confession, but it landed heavy in my chest all the same. I didn’t mean to lean into his touch, but I did. Didn’t mean to hold my breath when his thumb dragged lightly across my bottom lip, either.
A crash from inside shattered the spell. The look in Jackson’s eyes as he glanced towards the noise made me want to find the guy who had made the sound and suggest he find a place to hide. I took the opportunity to slink off into the night, hurrying home before we crossed a line.
Back in my room, I slid the acceptance letter under my pillow like a secret and lay flat, staring at the ceiling fan cutting lazy circles in the dark. I should’ve been high on adrenaline—college,a future, Hannah’s belief tucked in my pocket. But all I could hear was his voice again, that last night before he left.
Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish.
He’d meant it as caution. Maybe even care. But it had felt like rejection, and I’d spent thirteen weeks pretending it didn’t matter. Pretending I didn’t want him anyway. Tonight blew all that to pieces. The way he looked at me, like he’d been holding his breath just as long. The way neither of us could quite say it, but both of us knew.
I rolled onto my side, pressing my fist against my mouth to keep from groaning at myself. I had UGA. I had a plan. I had a future. So why did one stupid almost-kiss and one stupid Marine still have the power to undo me?
Chapter Seventeen
? Jackson ?
The first thing that hit me when I rolled back into town on boot leave wasn’t the smell of motor oil or the sight of bikes lined up outside the clubhouse—it was her.
Holly.
She wasn’t the sharp-tongued girl I remembered spitting fire at me in the school parking lot. She was standing there, evening sun coming through the window and catching in her hair, laughing at something Maria said. I barely registered the baby Maria was holding. She damn near knocked the wind out of me. Like she always did. But this wasn’t like last time. Not just because she was beautiful—though God help me, she was—but because she wasdifferent. Stronger. Softer around the edges but also…unshakable.
I’d left her three months ago on the edge of something—anger, pain, maybe even hope. I came back to find her carrying herself like someone who knew her own worth, even if she didn’t believe it all the way yet. A lot had changed in three months. And I didn’t know what the hell to do with the feeling in my chest when I saw that change. Pride. Fear. Want.
Basic had beaten a lot into me—discipline, grit, the ability to hold my tongue when some guy twice my size screamed in my face. I thought I’d come out of it sharper, better, and maybe I had. But standing here, all I could think was how unprepared I still felt. Not for the Corps. Forher.For this.?
After the party, I had watched her drive away then I went inside and found Dalton sitting on the couch. “Do me a favor,” I said, dropping on the couch next to him, trying to sound casual. “Keep an eye on Holly when she’s at UGA.”
Dalton raised an eyebrow. “Keep an eye on her, huh? You mean like bodyguard duty, or more like babysitting Malibu before she verbally eviscerates some poor bastard who looks at her wrong?”
I clenched my jaw. “She doesn’t need babysitting. I just…I don’t go there. You do. So just…watch her back.”
Dalton smirked, taking a pull from his beer. “Sure. But I expect hazard pay. That girl’s got a mouth like a buzzsaw. One wrong move and I’m gonna need worker’s comp.”
