“I don’t drink,” I admit quietly, feeling that odd feeling of failure that I hate so much.
“Oh,” Jackson says, sounding crestfallen. My fingers twitch restlessly at my side. Am I being an asshole? Andy always says sometimes I’m an asshole and I don’t realize it. I’m just blunt, tease too much, and don’t understand a lot of social cues.
“You can buy me a cupcake at Bee’s though. I have a little bit of time before I have to get back to work.”
Jackson’s grin is painfully blinding. His gorgeous brown eyes even crinkle at the corners. Maybe this is an elaborate joke, but I’m older now, and I can withstand anything. Also, I’m pretty sure Colby or Beau will kill him if he fucks around with me, so what’s the harm?
Jackson holds his hand out in anafter yougesture that has my nose wrinkling in irritation. We leave the gazebo, heading down towards Bee’s Cupcakes, a short two-block walk along Main Street. My long hair blows in the breeze, and I tuck it behind my ears so it doesn’t obscure my view of Jackson out of the corner of my eye.
Friendship isn’t something I really have much experience with. There’s Andy, but sometimes I think she’s my friend out of obligation. We’re just barely cousins, but we’re also the only ones in our large family around our age, the babies. So we’d formed a sort of commiserating friendship from early on.
Trusting people isn’t something that comes easy to me. Not after my epilepsy and my teenage years. There is a long list of things to not like about me, so I just try to make it easier on people by not making them feel like they have to be my friend.
Jackson opens the door to Bee’s, elbow pressed to the door, long legs tucked in front of it. The sweet smell of baked goods floats in the air when I duck inside. Bee’s has been an escape for me for as long as I can remember. In our teenage years Andy and I would come downtown after school, hide out in Bee’s with ourbooks to study before Andy wandered back to campus down the street for cheer practice. It was like a safe zone for me, where nothing bad could happen. The smell of vanilla settled all my nerves.
Trisha grins over the counter at the sight of me.
“Harper! It has been approximately”—she pretends to look down at her watch, then back up at me with a sly smile—“two days since you’ve been in the store. That’s a world record.”
A warm flush creeps across my cheeks and down my neck. So, I have a bit of a thing for sweets. Life is really short and I have to grab joy where I can.
“You don’t have to tattle on me,” I tease her.
Trisha grabs a lilac Bee’s-branded box with a flourish and a smile. “What’ll it be today?”
The selection of confections rotates every few days, but there are always a few staples. Double chocolate is usually my go-to favorite because it’s too decadent to not love. But pumpkin spice is finally in stock and that’s hard to pass up.
“One of each,” Jackson says from beside me, bringing my shocked gaze to him. He hands a startled Trisha his black credit card. “A latte too, please, ma’am.”
“What are you doing?” I ask, tone sharper than I intended.
Jackson turns his gaze to me. He shrugs, resting his forearm against the counter. “You wanted a cupcake.”
“Singular,” I point out through gritted teeth.
A small laugh escapes him, and he sucks on his bottom lip. “Now you’ll be good for a few days. Which one are you going to eat now?” Jackson gazes down at the cupcake display as Trisha continues to package up twelve various flavors of cupcakes. There’s no way I’ll eat them all in time before they go bad. A true tragedy.
“Here you go, love.” Trisha hands the latte and full box of cupcakes to Jackson with a starry-eyed look. Her eyes dart fromme to Jackson, and I shake my head so she doesn’t get any ideas. Getting besotted with Jackson just screams complications for everyone.
“Let’s eat one now,” Jackson declares, sending a panty-melting smile to Trisha as he ushers me towards the door. That is not going to help with thedon’t get besottedthing for Trisha.
Swept under the current of his direction, I actually listen, and head out the door. I blink slowly, and reach down to pat at Honey’s head to assure my heart is still beating. Maybe this is some fever dream. Or I died. That’s always possible.
There’s a little alley beside Bee’s full of metal tables, chairs, and fairy lights strung along the brick walls that glow bright at night. Since it’s still daytime, they’re not on, but the potted plants give the little alley a cozy effect. I plod over to the tables, hand still firmly on Honey’s head. We take a seat, Jackson folding his big body into the chair across from me, and he lifts the lid off the confectionary box with a childish grin.
He glances up at me, eyes sparkling. “Which one do you want?”
Instead of answering, I reach forward and grab my favorite. Double chocolate. Cupcakes are always messy, but I do my best. Silence settles over us as we eat in the warm glow of early fall. Jackson heartily digs into the white chocolate raspberry cheesecake flavor. Not my favorite, so he can have it. I only eat half before I’m full. A serious sugar rush is impending. Placing the half-eaten cupcake back in the box, I lick errant frosting off my fingers.
Jackson makes a noise deep in his throat, dragging my attention back to him. He’s already devoured the cupcake and his attention is focused solely on me. Maybe there’s frosting on my face?
I hastily wipe my mouth with my thumb. “Is there frosting?”
Jackson shakes his head firmly. “No, no frosting. It’s good to see your allergies aren’t acting up today.”
I blink in surprise. “Allergies?”
A smirk tilts Jackson’s lips up, just in the right corner. “Your bullshit allergies? It seemed serious the other day. Do you have to carry an EpiPen?”
