Jackson hums in agreement. “I’ll love you as long as those stars blink in the sky. Infinite and forever.”
Sweet, but silly. “Stars are dying, just so you know.”
Jackson presses a kiss to my sweaty forehead. “My notion was extremely romantic, so please don’t ruin it.”
“How do you know?” I ask, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and serious.
Jackson’s fingers curl into my hair, happily playing with the strands. “That my notion was romantic?”
“No… that you’ll love me forever?”
“Because you’re mine, Harper. I will never let you go because you belong to me. Forever.”
The words shouldn’t be romantic, but they are. Belonging to someone is a faraway wish that I never thought I’d see come true. Then comes Jackson, pushing through every boundary I toss up, fighting every demon that tries to end us before we even really begin. I fall asleep satiated in his arms, satisfied with the knowledge that I belong to Jackson and no one else.
Two magical nightsat the beach later, and I’ve never been more pissed off to return home. Jackson, on the other hand, seems just fine. Probably all the orgasms. I should be feeling the same way, but oddly, I feel restless. I wish we could’ve stayed at the beach forever, in our tiny hidden bubble.
But when we return home, I can no longer ignore the fervent pleas from my mother for us to come over for dinner.
The plus side is that she’s at least including Jackson.
Maybe after the whole imaging center event, she’s realized for the first time someone besides family is sticking around for me.
Jackson’s unloading the RV when I decide to drop the bomb on him.
“My parents would like us to go over for dinner tonight.”
Jackson pauses with my suitcase in his hand. “Oh?”
“We don’t have to,” I hurry to explain. “I can tell her no.”
“Do you want to go?” Jackson asks, returning to grabbing my suitcases.
I think it over as I follow him inside the house. Do I want to go to dinner with my parents? No. Should we? Yes. It’s a thin line. Maybe with Jackson there, my mother will behave better and be less antagonistic towards me.
“It’s hard to explain.”
Jackson’s eyebrows are adorably furrowed when he finally faces me. “So we don’t go.”
“No,” I say firmly. “We should go.”
“Okay… so we’re going.”
“Yes?”
Jackson snorts and gathers me into his arms, swaying us back and forth in the kitchen. He kisses me softly. The anxiety bubbling inside of me melts away under the gentle onslaught of his mouth until my mind is a quiet babbling brook once he pulls away.
“Better?” Jackson asks, fingers rubbing at the tender tense spots on my neck.
I moan in relief. “Yes.”
“Good. We’ll go to dinner, then we’ll watch that skateboarder you have saved on your TV later.”
I squawk in indignation. “How do you know about that?”
Jackson’s grin is devilish. “Should I grab a snapback and put on some Vans? Would that do it for you?”
Yes, but I absolutely will never admit that out loud. But Jackson knows just by my face because words aren’t necessary with him. His laughter presses into my mouth and I swallow it down, always eager for more.
