Love and Relativity (31 page)

And then I remembered the dream.

Jackson’s lap was warm. He smelled like coconut, his skin sticky from sunscreen. I breathed him in and opened my eyes, my gaze rolling upward, travelling over his neck and cheekbones until they landed on his blue irises. They stared down at me, soft and full of some unnamed emotion.

I looked away.

“Can I make you some soup?” he asked, standing and lifting me with him, carrying me over to the recliner. He draped me across it and then covered me with a blanket, brushing the hair from my eyes.

No answer.

“Okay, how about pumpkin pie?”

That earned him a small smile. It hurt, but seeing him return the effort with his own grin was so worth it.

“Soup is fine, thank you. Aren’t I interrupting your Friday night fun? Don’t you have a fight to pick or a girl to chase around or something?”

He walked to the stove and opened a can of Chicken Noodle. “There are six other nights of the week I can fight, and plenty of girls to chase around after you leave.”

“If you say so.”

“Just relax. Sleep if you want. I won’t let anything wake you.” Pouring the soup in the pot, he reached over to the counter to snatch my cell phone and turned it off, then fished his own from his pocket and turned it off, too.

The word ‘sleep’ was a hypnotic balm, immediately sending me into a hazy state until I drifted on the recliner and the world went away. I woke on my own at what felt like an hour later, my eyes scanning the room for Jackson and the soup he’d promised.

“I’m right here,” he said softly. My gaze fell on him and I swallowed hard, slowly shifting to sit up in the recliner. He was shirtless and soaked with sweat, lounging at the tiny kitchen table, tinkering with some kind of fishing pole and a tool box. “I went for a run when you passed out. I kept the soup warm on the stove.” Setting the pole down, he wandered over to the stove and poured me some, carrying it over with a spoon and napkin. Every muscle on his smooth, tanned abdomen rippled as he leaned over to hand the bowl to me, his scarred, calloused hands nearly swallowing the small blue dish.

“Thanks.” I set it down.

He sat next to me and eyed the bowl, draping an arm over the back of the sofa. He gulped at his beer. “Not hungry anymore?”

“There’s something else you can do for me that will make me feel better.”

His eyes drifted to mine. I inched forward and leaned into the crook of his arm, bringing my hand to his chest. His sweat chilled my skin and sent a shudder through me.

My lips found his throat and then the curve of his neck. The muscles there jumped against my lips, and his free hand found mine on his chest, where his heart was pounding wildly.

“Emma,” his voice came out hoarse, “I don’t think—oh, fuck,” it turned into a whisper when my fingers travelled down to his lap, rubbing and stroking in a slow, sensual attack. I stopped rubbing and slipped over his knees to straddle him, my fingers finding his thick hair as I bent down to capture his mouth with mine.

“Please,” I whispered against his tongue, rolling my hips against him. “I need you, Jackson.”

Strong, willing hands found my breasts, and then the buttons on my dress. He deftly unhooked each one, intensifying his kiss and plunging his tongue into the back of my throat, stealing every ounce of space until I felt nothing but his warm, wet need. He reached the last button and slid the top of the dress down, pulling back to gaze at me. “You sure you want this?”

“Yes. Don’t you?”

“Hell, yes, I want it.” His hands followed the curves of my hips and rested firmly on my ass. “But once I start, I won’t stop until I’m buried in you. So tell me you’re sure, because—”

“Just make me feel good, Jack.” I shoved my mouth on his again, and he hummed with want, standing to lift and lay me down on the couch. He hovered over me, and my gaze danced across his neck, down to his stomach and chiseled waistline. Every part of him took control—his hands, his arms, and his voice.

“Damn,” his fingers trailed up my inner thigh, slipping beneath the skirt of my dress. He started massaging it, rubbing in small circles. “You’re trembling, Emma.” His knuckles grazed the edge of my thong. “And you’re so wet. Oh, I’m gonna make you feel real good, baby. You’ll see. Just relax.” He dipped his head down and grazed his tongue over the swell of my breasts, hooking a finger along my panty line, slowly running it back and forth, releasing a pleased groan when I shivered under his touch. I squirmed beneath him, lifting and tilting my hips, then reached for his jeans button. He snatched my wrists and pushed my arms above my head, pinning them against the pillow, returning straight to my breasts to work his tongue and teeth over them, teasing and tugging through the bra’s material.

I moaned and stretched out, arching my back off the couch, my fingers finding something beneath the pillow above my head. An underwire. Soft cups. Straps. I pulled it from beneath the pillow and my eyes rolled upward, landing on a red, lacy bra. Pushing up on Jackson’s chest, I struggled to lean up on my elbows and scurried backward on the sofa, pulling myself up and out of the cage his body had created over mine.

“Um, let’s just forget it. I should get home.”

Jackson rolled up on his knees, dazed and hard as a rock. “What? But—” His eyes fell on the bra. “Shit. Emma, wait,” he jumped up, watching me straighten my dress and slip my shoes on. “We don’t have to do this. We can just hang out. You can sleep some more or I can cook something else if you’re hungry. Don’t go.”

“Thanks, but I really should leave. I haven’t seen my mom since the funeral.”

“Shit, this is weird...”

I gave him an awkward smile, letting him know I wasn’t upset. But I still moved toward the front door. I couldn’t be another number in Jackson’s sea of faces...or red bras. And right now, he was my safe haven. A bubble I could enter whenever I felt the need, and could exit without ever being detected by the outside world. A place I could rest my head and exchange thoughts without saying a word. Because Jackson knew. Only he knew what I needed and why I needed it. No use ruining a good thing.

So I left and didn’t look back.

I shook my head at the memory of the dream, punching my fingers down on the alarm clock again as it let another sharp ring loose. The dreams had been more vivid lately, slamming my senses with every detail, reminding me just how much I missed him. I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand and stepped out of bed, eyeing the calendar next to my bedroom door.

May twentieth was finally here.

The past four months had been packed to the brim with exams, homework, long days at the nursing home, and restless nights filled with memories of the boy with the blanket. Graduation day came and went. I’d walked the stage while Whitney, Carter, Casey, and my mom snapped photo after photo, their smiles reminding me of the person I’d become and who I’d yet to be.

Things had died down when I’d found out that Jackson moved away. Whitney and Carter had argued for weeks, whispering whenever I was around, but neither one of them dared to mention what they were arguing about in front of me. I was certain it had something to do with Whitney urging Carter to tell Jackson to come home, but I never said a word. All I’d wanted was to mourn the loss of my good friend turned lover, accept that it was never meant to be, and move on with my life.

Eventually, Whitney let the anger go and there were no more fights with Carter, no more mention of Jackson at all. Carter didn’t relay a single message to me about him, and even Ruben and Jeff—when I ran into them occasionally at the grocery store or gas station—acted as if Jackson never existed. It’d become some sort of alternate universe. No matter how hard I tried to wrap my brain around it, I still didn’t understand how a man so stubbornly planted in his hometown, at one time so comfortable and at ease here, could simply get up and walk away from everyone and everything he knew. A part of me almost envied the decision, but then I’d catch a glimpse of the wide, red-colored ring around May 20th on the calendar, and the longing would disappear, knowing I’d be on my own way soon enough.

Along with school, graduation, and last-minute arrangements for moving day, I’d stayed busy with jogs on the beach—resuming the old routine I’d shared with Jen—and helping out at the local wildlife rehabilitation center. Volunteering and earning some hands-on experience with animals was fun, and it would increase my chances at snagging the aquarium internship I’d set my sights on in Seattle. The director of the program favored candidates with biological field research experience, which I already had, but I’d heard that animal care experience also gave me an edge.

A smile played on my lips as I stared at the calendar, relieved that eight hours from now, I’d finally be clear across the country, with my best friends by my side. Tomorrow was Carter’s friends’ wedding, and the day after that was devoted to scouring the city for some bargain furniture.

“You ready, chick?” Whitney asked, letting herself in. I was busy securing the lid on our to-go coffee cups, fresh and energetic from a morning run and a hot shower.

“Yup, let me just grab my last bag and we can go.”

“God, it looks so weird in here.” She sighed wistfully, turning and eyeing the empty apartment. Her lips started to pout and her eyes were glistening as she picked up her coffee. “So empty.”

“Whit, please don’t cry.” I tossed an arm over her shoulder, sizing up the emptiness with her. “This isn’t goodbye yet. You get a whole week with me in Seattle.” I kissed her on the cheek and leaned my head on her shoulder.

“It’s only a week,” she said, blubbering now, “and it’s there, not here. This is the last time I’ll ever be in this apartment. What am I going to do without you, Em?” She pivoted and wrapped me in a hug, her sobs tickling my hair.

“Hey, look at me, girl.” I pulled back and lifted her chin to deadpan her. “I know people say this shit all the time—that it’s just a plane ride away and blah, blah. And they never really take that plane ride. It’s all just a bunch of crap people say to make each other feel better, to make the goodbye easier. But I
mean
it, damn it. I’ll be home to visit my mom, and we’ll have plenty of time together. You can come stay with me anytime you want. Plus, I’m sure you can come with Carter whenever he visits his friends.”

“This isn’t a hop, skip, and a jump, Em. It’s a long flight. And an expensive one. I don’t have that kind of cash.” She pulled a tissue from her purse. “Shit, I’m sorry. I know, I know. This is supposed to be a happy day. I’m here to hug you and support you and tell you I love you. But I can’t help but feel like this is the end of something...something big. With our friendship, I mean. It’s all hitting me so hard, and I can’t—” she started bawling again, “I can’t handle it.”

“You’ll still have Carter and Casey. We can talk every day, I swear. And if money for a flight is what you’re worried about...well, I guess that just means I need to go kickass at school, get that degree, and snag a good job so I can pick up the tab.” I smiled at her, squeezing her shoulders. “You got this. You’re my BFF and no time, distance, or space will ever change that.”

“B-b-but who will I have cleaning marathons with?”

“Casey. I’ll be there in spirit.”

“She’s not neurotic and cranky like you.”

“You’ll miss that, ay?”

“Hell yes, I’ll miss that! When you’re obsessive and pissy, you tell those floors who’s boss. They won’t shine like that when Casey scrubs them. And don’t get me started on our Covenant Series discussions. The girl thinks Alex should pick Seth.
Seth
, Em. How can I clean with someone who isn’t Team Aiden? It’s like...madness. Madness on Earth. The fucking apocalypse—”

“Whitney,” I chuckled, squeezing her tighter, “I assure you, you’ll survive. The second she starts running her mouth about Aiden, just spray her with bleach. That’ll teach her a lesson.”

The sobs stopped, but her mouth was still jutted out in a pout.

“Make new memories, Whit. They won’t ever replace what we have, but they’ll bring you plenty of happiness. So wipe that look off your face and cheers to the future.” I clinked my coffee cup to hers and we both breathed deep, taking one last glance at my empty apartment.

It was going to be a long day.

***

After a bittersweet farewell lunch at Pete’s Tavern, Carter, Whitney, my mom and I all piled into the car to head to Southwest International Airport. Whitney and I had indulged in our favorite shrimp basket and rum runner meal, while Pete rambled on about the upcoming summer season and the latest songs he’d added to the restaurant’s karaoke selection. It was a lazy Friday afternoon, with only a few locals trickling into the bar for their lunch breaks and afternoon beers. An odd comfort filled the room, infusing me with a spark of irrational excitement.

I’d remembered how Jackson, Jeff, and Ruben’s laughter would blow through the front door, how the back of my neck prickled when I heard them walk in, knowing that at any moment, Jackson would be approaching me from behind. My insides would twist in anticipation of his smile, his playful jabs, and how I’d rehearsed the comebacks in my mind. I used to feel his eyes burning into me, could feel his smartass laugh roll over my skin and warm my blood. There was nothing like a good sparring match with Jackson after a long work week.

All of that anticipation was gone now, and suddenly, as I glanced around, Pete’s Tavern was a tomb. Not a morbid, depressing one, with wilted flowers and damp, musty smells, but a joyous memorial decorated in silver and gold. Irises and lilies. Warmth and sunshine.