16. Hailey
CHAPTER 16
HAILEY
I stood scowling into the cave of my suitcase, clean sweats on one side, sweaty sweats on the other. Jackson had said dress down, but how down should I dress? Sweats or a sundress? A cute top and jeans? Or did he just mean dress down, like not couture? He’d started to warn me this wasn’t a date, but damned if I wasn’t in full-on date mode.
I tried on my pink dress — too little-girl — then my gray sweats. Too sad-night-in. My white jeans made my ass look good, but pinched at the waist. My black ones fit great, but he’d seen them before. I snuck into Mina’s room and tried her new dress, then smoothed it out guiltily and put it away. She’d bought it, I knew, for when I won a Grammy: a vote of confidence that’d cost a week’s pay.
Back in my room, I tried my black jeans again, and my cutest hoodie. The one that said BOOP! It had an appliquéd dog on it, presenting its snoot. I checked myself out in the hall mirror, then in the bathroom one with its bright lights. Jackson would like my hoodie, I thought. He was a dog person, which, how perfect was that?
I tried my hair up, then I shook it down, thinking of how he looked at me after a show. He liked me roughed up a bit, my hair flying wild. I scrunched it up in my fists and shook it around. Raked it back with my fingers and admired the mess. For makeup, I went minimal, like the night we’d met. Was I hoping tonight would wind up the same? I wasn’t not hoping that, I had to admit.
He knocked, and I half-skipped to answer the door. Then I flushed as he stood there checking me out. I could see in his eyes that I’d picked the right look, especially the way I’d mussed up my hair. His gaze lingered on that and his hands twitched, like it was all he could do to look and not touch. I was looking as well, at his faded jeans. At his blinding white T-shirt stretched over his pecs. His arms, bare, corded. His lips?—
“So, where are you taking me?” I smiled, too bright.
“You’ll find out when we get there. It’s a surprise.”
I tried to think where in Nashville he could have in mind. Where he could take me, free of prying eyes. It had to be somewhere away from downtown, away from the music scene. No clubs or bars. Nowhere with dancing, which was a shame. I’d have loved to press up on him on a crowded dance floor.
He’d rented a car for us instead of the limo, and I sat with him up front. “Give me a hint?”
“That’s not how surprises work.”
“I hate surprises.”
Jackson just laughed. “No, you don’t.” He pulled out of the parking lot and drove through the city, keeping to side streets, far from the crowds. We left the city behind us and rolled through the burbs, out to the woods where the darkness was deep. As Nashville’s lights dwindled, I felt my whole chest unclench, like this whole time since LA I’d been only half breathing. Only drawing air to fill half my lungs. My head cleared as I sucked back breath after breath, and the knots in my back and guts melted away. Jackson must’ve heard me sniffing, because he glanced over.
“Smells good out here, doesn’t it?”
I smiled. It did. “Like the woods back at band camp, the fresh air. The trees.”
“Nature,” said Jackson. “Smells good everywhere. The mountains, the desert, even the sea. Even that fishy smell, it’s good. It’s alive.”
I wondered about all the places he’d been, and felt a bit jealous. I’d been a few places too now, but I hadn’t seen much, only stadiums and concert halls and spas and hotels.
“Check it out.” Jackson pointed up ahead, through the trees. I glimpsed lights on strings and a sparking bonfire, and kids wearing glow sticks darting around. My stomach went tight and I cringed back in my seat.
“There’s people.”
“I know. But, do you trust me?”
I nodded, but my breath was trapped high in my chest again. I could see more now, food stands. The beach. The lights of a Ferris wheel starring the sky.
“Put this on,” said Jackson, and reached under his seat. He pulled out a baseball cap and tossed it my way. I couldn’t see how it’d help much, but I put it on anyway, threading my hair through the loop at the back. Jackson pulled into a free parking space.
“We’ll walk around,” he said. “Down to the beach. You see past those fires, where the black rocks are?”
I followed where he was pointing, past a line of bonfires, a thin, rocky pier jutting into the lake. No one was down there, just the rocks and the moon, the silvery waves lapping up on the shore.
“You think we can get down there without being seen?”
“Yeah. They’re all night-blind from looking into the fires. We’ll just be two shapes to them, running down to the beach.”
I looked away from the bonfires and saw what he meant, my own vision splotched with the flare of ghost-flames. Feeling more confident, I got out of the car, and when Jackson held out his hand, I quickly took it. We jogged together down to the pier, the breeze off the lake trying to pluck off my hat. That gave me an excuse to hang onto the brim, shielding my face as I held my hat down.
“Just a minute,” said Jackson, as we came to the pier. He broke off and strode to a nearby food stand, and came back with two beers and two giant pretzels. We took our food out to the end of the pier, and sat on the damp rocks with our legs hanging down. Jackson nudged my arm.
“So, what do you think?”
I didn’t answer him right away. Instead, I leaned back and half-closed my eyes, and took a deep whiff of the fresh, beachy air. I smelled earthy lake water and the greenness of trees, the smoke off a barbecue, musty spilled beer. It smelled like a party, and I thrilled with delight.
“I love it,” I said.
“Try your pretzel.”
I took a bite and chased it down with cheap beer, and I laughed aloud. “You know what this feels like?”
“Being a kid again?”
“No. Yeah. Maybe.” I set my beer down and pulled off my shoes. Dipped my toes in the water, crisp and cool. “It feels like how I pictured a high school beach party, the red cups. The beer. The greasy snacks.”
Jackson laughed. “There’s adults here. And little kids.”
“I know, but the feel of it. The cheapness. The fun.”
“Your folks never brought you to a night like this?”
I didn’t want to think about home, so I sipped some more beer and watched the kids down the beach, slashing their glow sticks like a sword fight. They were making zhoosh sounds, playing lightsabers. A big, bouncy dog came and jumped in the middle, and the kids broke up and ran down the beach. One of them grabbed a stick and tossed it in the lake, and the dog ran in after it and came charging back out. It ran straight for the kids and they scattered again.
“Wet dog! Wet dog!”
“Shoo! Get away!”
The dog dropped its stick and shook itself out, misting the kids with a spray of cold water. They shouted and laughed, and I laughed as well.
“This is amazing. How’d you know it was here?”
“I found a flyer by our hotel.”
Behind us, some older kids had found a ball, and they were tossing it. Testing its bounce. One of them fumbled it and it rolled down the pier, and I tossed it back to them. A tall kid waved.
“Thanks!”
I smiled and raised my hand, but I knew the kid couldn’t see me. To him, I was only a shape in the dark.
“I brought jackets,” said Jackson. “In case we get cold.”
I wasn’t cold, but I leaned on his shoulder, and for a while we just sat there watching the lake. The opposite shore was lost in the dark, just a few twinkling lights to suggest it was there. Above us, the moon rode across a clear sky, and its rippling twin gleamed up from the lake. Every so often, a bird would call out, all hoarse and cranky in the loud night.
“I’ve been so tired,” I said.
Jackson shot me a worried look. “We can go back if you want.”
“No, I’m not tired now. I’m saying I have been. Since, where was it, Denver, I fell off the swing? It’s felt like one long day since then, like that night just happened. Like I just fell. Like I’m still getting yelled at. When you came in that night, I thought you’d be Mina. I was waiting for her to come yell some more. And ever since then, it’s like I’ve been waiting, stuck in that room, to get my ass chewed.” I heard myself and felt stupid, and tried a weak laugh. “Did I just sound so whiny? I did, didn’t I?”
Jackson didn’t look at me, but up at the sky. He slid his arm around me and leaned his head on mine. “You know what you sound like? A soldier. At war.”
I laughed again, doubly self-conscious. A soldier? Me? That’d be the day.
Jackson shook his head. “Don’t put yourself down.”
“I’m not. I just?—”
“That’s how it was over there. In the sandpit. What you see doesn’t process, or not right away. Not till you get a chance to step back and be safe.” His free hand went to his cheek, to the ridge of his scar. “It does feel like one long day out in the shit. You sleep but don’t rest. You don’t move past your shock. That’s probably why we get PTSD.”
I wondered what he’d seen, where he’d got his scars. How long he’d gone before he got to rest. It felt rude to ask him, so I held him instead, one arm slung across his wide back. I did feel safe, here with him, like I could breathe. That coiled sense of waiting had eased off at last. Today was a new day, and I was fine. I turned to tell Jackson that, and fire flashed in his eyes. It flashed behind him as well, and overhead, red and gold bursting across the night.
“Fireworks,” I gasped.
“Pretty, right?” Jackson rustled a moment, then nudged me in the ribs. I glanced over to see he was holding two sparklers. He passed one to me, and it was almost too much. My eyes stung, my throat closed. I wanted to cry. This was the sweetest thing?—
“Hey. You okay?”
I waved my sparkler, trailing sparks through the air. “Yeah. I’m just great. This is… Thank you. It’s great.” I tilted my head back and my vision cleared. Fireworks exploded, trailing smoke and sparks. It smelled like on stage in the throes of my show, but no one was screaming my name down the beach. All I had to do was sit and enjoy, and play with my sparkler, and cheer with the crowd.
We watched till the last blooms of fire had gone out, then we walked down the starlit beach arm in arm. Jackson pulled me into him to ease past the crowd, his body always between me and them. I breathed deep and felt high from his cologne, and from the heat of his skin through his shirt. He steered us to a tiny bar far down the beach, so dim inside I bumped my hip on a table.
“Not that one,” said Jackson, and walked me around it, to a dark, sheltered spot way at the back. He got us more beers and a basket of curly fries, and we ate and talked, and then we played darts. My fingers were greasy, and I smacked his arm.
“Is that what the fries were for? So I’d lose at darts?”
“No. That’s what this is for.” He tickled my ribs. I danced away, shrieking, and missed my next shot, but it didn’t matter. I felt light as air. And, better than that, this was a date, wasn’t it? Jackson kept smiling, catching my eyes. Leaning over to bump his shoulder on mine. His fingers brushed mine when he reached for our score pad, and he didn’t hasten to jerk them away. A hot little spring coiled tight in my belly, mounting excitement for what might come next. I’d spotted a motel close by the beach, and maybe if I asked him, he’d drive us there. Maybe he’d check us in while I sat in the car, then we’d run in together, two thieves in the night. He’d fling me like laundry on the old motel mattress, and the whole frame would creak, and we’d scream and laugh. I’d tear his shirt off and then his?—
“Uh-oh.”
I yelped as he spun me past the dartboard, into a hallway blocked off with crates. He shoved me up tight with my back to the wall, his body angled to block my view of the bar. Or to block me from view. I went cold.
“Jackson?”
“Shh, just a second.” He leaned past me, half on me. I couldn’t breathe. My heart was pounding, but it wasn’t all fear. Jackson was so close, his hip pressed to mine, his hand on my shoulder to hold me in place. Trapped. I was trapped by him. My body went hot.
“It’s all right,” he said, but all I felt was the rumble, his voice in his chest all gravelly-deep.
“Jackson?”
“Just a couple of kids out there taking a selfie. I thought for a moment they were shooting you.” He turned and our eyes met, and I couldn’t think. This close, I could see his eyes weren’t all blue. They had little green flecks, like light on the sea. His face and neck were rough with five-o’clock stubble, his lips smooth and soft, and so close to mine. All I needed to do was rise on tiptoe — and he leaned down.
And I closed my eyes.
His breath kissed my lips, just air. Only that. Just a whisper, we can’t , but he didn’t pull back.
“Jackson…”
“Hailey.” My name came out dry and sandpaper-rough, but his lips felt plush when they brushed up on mine. I kissed him, and he didn’t just kiss me back. He grabbed me by both shoulders and his thumbs dug in, his nails almost hurting. My pulse beat don’t stop . But he did stop. He drew back and surveyed the bar.
“We need to get out of here.”
“I saw a motel…”
He didn’t seem to hear me, focused on the crowd. The bar had filled up now the fireworks were done, and Jackson quick-marched me out the back. I tried again as we piled in the car, but Jackson sat scowling, gripping the wheel.
“I promised Mina we’d be back by two.”
“Then come to my room with me. Come up and?—”
He shifted my hand away, where it’d found his leg. “We’re leaving tomorrow. You need your rest.”
I wanted to scream at him, what I needed was him . How could I rest, when I was on fire for him? When every cell in my body was screaming yes, now ? But Jackson’s back was stiff, his blue eyes gone cold. And I wasn’t going to beg and make a fool of myself.
“Professional,” he said. To me? To himself? I wanted to strangle him or scream in his face. Instead, I said nothing and stared straight ahead, and sat on my hands to keep them from my lips. I could feel his kiss still, the gust of his breath. His teeth, where he’d nipped me. His taste. His smell.
I wanted to kill him, but I did nothing at all.