“I worry more about Jackson than Dad.”
When we return to the kitchen, Dad and Jackson are huddled together around my dad’s laptop. Jackson turns his keen gaze on me, lips lifting at the corner when I smile at him. When Jackson looks at me, I know without a doubt that I’m wanted, that I’m loved in a way that’s rare and beautiful. I take the seat beside him, leaning heavily against him when he wraps his strong arm around me.
“Alright?” Jackson whispers softly.
I turn my gaze to look up at him, smiling the smile only he’ll ever see. “Alright.”
Jackson beams and kisses my nose.
I’ll always be fine as long as I have Jackson.
16
JACKSON
It should be illegal for a doctor’s office to be so fucking cold. Harper sits on the exam table in sweatpants and my faded hoodie, Honey by his feet staring intently at the door. I know Harper is anxious, but I’m really not worried. His last seizure was almost three months ago now. From everything Harper has told me, that means the new medicine is finally working. I desperately hope the doctor agrees so Harper finally has a semblance of peace.
Dr. Whitman storms into the frigid room with a wide grin. His grin somehow doubles when he notices me. “Who’s this?”
“My bodyguard,” Harper says casually.
Dr. Whitman stares blankly at Harper in confusion. “What for?”
“I stole the Declaration of Independence and now black market thieves are after me.”
Dr. Whitman scoffs with a deep roll of his eyes. “Really, Harper.”
I stand with a smile and offer the doctor my hand. “I’m his boyfriend, Jackson Harris.”
“Oh, lovely to meet you, son. Are you serious?”
“Quite,” I answer with a wide grin.
“Harper Harris has a nice ring,” the doctor points out as he sits on his rolling chair to study Harper’s scans.
Harper’s flush is beautiful and delightful. I move to stand beside him, sweetly taking his hand between both of mine. He aims a tremulous smile toward me, then returns his worried gaze to the doctor’s computer screen.
“Well, it’s good news, Harper.” Dr. Whitman points at the scans with a kind smile towards us. “I don’t see any negative changes in your scans. You’ve had no breakthrough seizures lately?”
Harper shakes his head. “None.”
“Good. I think we might be inching back towards maintenance mode. As always, it’s best to avoid your triggers to avoid a breakthrough seizure. But as long as we’re down to less than two a year, it’s looking up, kiddo. Do you need refills?”
Harper nods quietly, obviously at a loss for words. I smile at the kind doctor, shaking his hand again before he disappears out the door. I help Harper off the exam table and tightly hold his hand as we walk out into the bright winter sunshine. Taking a loud breath, Harper lets it out slowly through his mouth. The tension from this morning is gone, leaving him luminous. I have the inexplicable urge to hold him, kiss him, whisper love sonnets into his ear that would only piss him off.
“I hoped, but I didn’t expect it.”
“Happy?” I ask, tenderly kissing the knuckles of his hand.
“Ecstatic,” Harper replies seriously. His grin is so big and beautiful, that I have to kiss him despite the few people milling around. His fingers tangle in my shirt, tugging me closer. “We should do something disgustingly wintery today. Look at Christmas lights tonight? We can take Honey with us.”
I swipe my finger along his bottom lip, my heart fluttering like hummingbird wings in my chest. If my heart could take flight, soar into the sky, I almost think it would.
“Whatever you want, punk.”
Harper lifts up onto his toes to kiss my nose. “Yay!”
I watch him skip towards the car with Honey hot on his heels. When he notices me lagging behind, he raises one eyebrow in question.
