Slinking down in the chair, embarrassment floods through me. I honestly didn’t think I’d see him again so soon. Thought maybe he’d forget by the next time I saw him.
“Okay, I lied. I don’t have allergies.” I gently pat Honey’s head. “Honey is my canine parole officer. If I bite someone again, they’re going to send me away for life.”
Jackson tilts his head again, eyes tracking over my face. Self-consciously, I want to reach up and cover the scar across my temple. It’s still gnarled years later and usually the first thing people look at. It goes like this: scar, long red hair, freckles, and then Honey. In high school they called me Chucky, which is why I wear my hair long now. I’m going for twink lumberjack, instead of a serial killer doll.
“How many people have you bitten?” Jackson asks conversationally.
“Too many to count.”
“You seem reformed.”
I point at Honey. “As I said, canine parole officer. If I bite one more person… life behind bars. Look at me. I can’t be behind bars.”
Jackson’s lip twitches again. “No, no. A face like yours doesn’t belong in jail.”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s that mean?”
“You’re too pretty,” Jackson mumbles around a mouthful of cupcake.
Something warm and unnamable unfurls in my stomach. No one has ever called me pretty. Most days, when I look into themirror, that’s not a word I’d used to describe myself. I decide to totally ignore the word, assuming he meant it to be kind.
“Why are you still here?” I ask bluntly.
Jackson doesn’t seem shaken by my tone. His eyes slowly flick over my face, then land back on my eyes. He holds my gaze for so long that I start to squirm in my seat, unmoored by his ability to give such undivided attention.
“I told you that already.”
I huff and roll my eyes, barely containing my irritation. “Don’t you have a job? You can just… what? Up and decide to relocate to Florida? Which, by the way, no one willingly relocates here unless they’re escaping state income tax or they’re fine with exorbitant home insurance costs.”
Jackson laughs again, open and free. It infuriates me that I like the sound of his laugh. I hate him. Nobody should look likethatand have such an amazing laugh. Was God handing out hotness, personality, and nice laughs at the same time when he made Jackson? Must be nice. God took one look at me and saidmake him Chucky and give him a brain disorder and also make his biological parents not want him.
“God, the way you view life is refreshing.”
I sniff delicately. “I just say it like it is.”
“You sure fucking do,” Jackson says gruffly. He leans back in the metal chair, arms crossed over his broad chest. The muscles in his biceps pop, and my eyes get stuck on his blemish-free skin for just a second too long. I have this brief, stupid thought of him holding me, wondering what those muscles would feel like around my thin frame.
Idiot.
I shake myself from stupid thoughts and stand abruptly.
“Thank you for the cupcake,” I say, a small tremor in my voice.
Jackson’s brows furrow again, but he stays sitting. His stare is calculating and I hate the weight of it on me. The man’s eyes should be illegal, especially when he looks at me like that. Some type of way that I can’t understand, that I’m not able to parse. Without another word, I turn from the table and head back towards home. Unfortunately, it’s gotten a little warmer since I started my walk, so I’ll have to call a rideshare to take me back home.
I can’t risk getting overheated, then seizing on the side of the road. My mother would actually have a conniption and force me to move back home where she can hover over me indefinitely so I don’t have the chance to embarrass her.
Just as I’m pulling out my phone, Honey walks in front of me to stop me. I pause, and glance up to find Jackson standing in front of us, blocking our way. The box of cupcakes is held in the tight grip of his large hands. I trace my gaze from the tips of his fingers, up his arm, across the hard dip of his collarbone under his tight V-neck, over his neck, then finally let my gaze meet his own.
“I bought these for you,” Jackson says, voice pitched low.
A shiver tries to roll through my body, but I don’t let it. I’m made of steel. No man will affect me unless I let them. “Okay.”
“Where are you going?”
My fingers twitch against my phone. “Home.”
Jackson’s mouth twitches at the corner. “Were you walking?”
