46 try anyway
By the time I leave Nola and Peyton's dorm, I've already convinced myself this is a terrible idea at least fourteen separate times.
The cold hits me immediately stepping outside, sharp enough to sting my lungs, and I shove my hands deeper into my coat pockets while crossing campus.
I should turn around.
Seriously.
I should absolutely turn around.
Because what exactly is my plan here?
Walk into our dorm room and casually announce Hey, by the way, I'm in love with you too after weeks of emotional chaos? That seems unhealthy. Potentially medically concerning.
Snow crunches lightly under my shoes as I walk faster anyway.
My heart is beating so hard it's actually annoying.
I rehearse conversations the entire way there.
Normal conversations.
Reasonable conversations.
Maybe I start subtle.
Maybe I sit down first.
Maybe I pretend I came back for something and then gradually transition into emotionally devastating honesty.
By the time I reach the dorm building, I've fully talked myself out of it again.
Perfect.
Great.
Love that for me.
I step inside anyway.
The hallway upstairs is quieter than usual, most doors closed, muffled music leaking faintly through walls somewhere down the corridor.
My pulse gets worse the closer I get to our room.
And suddenly I'm standing outside the door staring at it like it personally offended me.
I can still leave.
That thought lasts approximately two seconds before I push the door open.
Jackson's sitting on his bed with his laptop open beside him and papers spread everywhere, one knee pulled up while he scrolls through what looks like football film review.
He looks up immediately when I walk in. And something in his face softens instantly seeing me.
Not dramatic.
Not overwhelming.
Just immediate, like he was waiting for me without realizing he was.
"Hey," he says quietly.
My rehearsed speech disappears completely.
Gone.
Absolutely gone.
I close the door behind me, drop my bag beside my desk, and Jackson's watching me carefully now like he can tell something's happening.
"You okay?" he asks.
I nod too fast. "No."
That makes him sit up straighter immediately.
"Everly-"
And before I can lose my nerve, before my brain catches up and ruins everything, I cross the room straight toward him.
Jackson barely has time to react before I grab the front of his hoodie and kiss him.
Hard.
Impulsive.
Terrifying.
For half a second he freezes in complete shock. Then he kisses me back like he's been dying to.
One hand catches my waist instantly, pulling me closer between his knees while the other slides into my hair, and suddenly weeks of tension just-
collapse.
Every horrible conversation.
Every almost.
Every missed chance.
Gone.
The kiss turns desperate embarrassingly fast.
Relief and longing and all the things we haven't known how to say crashing together at once.
Jackson makes this quiet sound against my mouth that nearly kills me.
And when we finally pull apart, we're both breathing way too hard.
He stares at me like his brain fully stopped working.
Honestly mine probably did too.
My hands are still twisted in his hoodie. His are still holding my waist.
And before I can overthink it, before fear ruins this too, I whisper shakily, "I'm in love with you too."
Silence.
Jackson just stares at me.
Actually stares, like I physically knocked every coherent thought out of his body.
Then his expression breaks open completely.
Not cocky.
Not teasing.
Just stunned and happy and almost disbelieving all at once.
"Jesus Christ," he breathes softly.
And then he kisses me again immediately.
I actually laugh against his mouth because the force of it nearly knocks me backward.
Jackson smiles into the kiss.
I feel it.
And that somehow makes everything worse in the best possible way.
When we finally separate again, both of us are laughing slightly now from pure emotional overload.
His forehead drops against mine.
"You can't just do that," he says quietly.
"I literally don't even know what I'm doing."
"Okay, good," he says. "Me neither."
That makes me laugh again.
His hands are still warm against my waist. Neither of us moves away.
Eventually Jackson exhales slowly. "Logan talked to me after the team meeting."
I blink. "What?"
"He told me about your dad."
Immediate horror floods through me.
"Oh my God." I pull back enough to stare at him properly. "Did he threaten to kill you?"
Jackson laughs unexpectedly. "Shockingly, no."
"That honestly feels out of character for him."
"He definitely implied violence spiritually."
I snort.
Then my chest tightens again remembering Logan's face in the car Sunday afternoon. The way he admitted he was mostly just scared I'd get hurt again.
Jackson's expression softens a little. "He told me why he hated me."
I look down briefly. "That must've been fun."
"It actually kind of sucked," he admits quietly.
That surprises me enough to look back at him immediately.
Jackson's thumb brushes absentmindedly against the side of my waist while he talks.
"He told me about your dad disappearing all the time. Promising he'd changed." His jaw tightens slightly. "And how you always believed him."
Emotion crawls painfully up my throat.
I didn't realize Logan would actually tell him all that.
Jackson shakes his head a little. "I didn't understand before. Not fully."
I stay quiet.
"He said watching me pull away from you..." Jackson swallows once. "It reminded him of that."
My chest physically hurts now.
Jackson looks at me carefully. "I never wanted to become somebody that hurt you like that."
"You didn't," I say immediately.
"I did."
"You got scared."
"I still hurt you."
That honesty almost undoes me completely.
Because old Jackson would've joked his way around this conversation.
Would've deflected.
Would've hidden.
But he's just... here now.
Looking directly at me.
Telling the truth anyway.
"He also said," Jackson continues quieter now, "that he's not gonna stand in the way if this is what we want."
I blink at him. "Seriously?"
"Yeah."
I stare at him for a second before groaning softly.
"Oh my God. Logan likes you now. This is horrifying."
Jackson laughs. "I don't think he likes me."
"He absolutely does. Which honestly means you should probably start fearing for your life."
"I already do."
That pulls another laugh out of me.
The room settles softer after that.
Snow has started falling outside now, slow flakes drifting past the window.
Jackson looks at me for a long moment before speaking again. "Can I ask you something?"
"Depends."
His mouth twitches slightly. Then more seriously,
"Are you sure about this?"
The question lands gently.
Not pressuring.
Not doubting.
Just careful, like he genuinely needs to know.
And weirdly, that makes answering easier.
I look down briefly before laughing softly under my breath. "Honestly?"
"Always."
"I'm not fully sure about anything."
Jackson watches me quietly.
"I just know," I continue, "that every time I tried to stop caring about you, it made me miserable."
Something shifts in his expression hearing that.
"And I know," I say more quietly now, "that you scare me a little."
He winces immediately.
"No, not in a bad way." I smile faintly. "More like... this matters too much now."
Jackson's eyes don't leave mine.
"But," I whisper, "I still want to try anyway."
The look on his face right then nearly destroys me.
Relief.
Affection.
Disbelief.
"Okay," he says softly. His hand slides up into my hair carefully. "We can try."
Emotion rushes so hard through my chest I actually have to look away for a second.
Jackson gently hooks two fingers under my chin until I look back at him.
And then he kisses me again.
Slower this time.
Not desperate anymore.
Certain.
Outside the window, snow keeps falling quietly over campus while Jackson pulls me closer against him like he's scared I might disappear if he lets go.