18. Chapter Eighteen - Lexie
Lexie
“What did Jackson want?” I ask Bailey as he sidles over, just after I sent away yet another customer who wanted a cupcake.
This day has been absolute madness.
One moment, Alan asked to film me piping our pumpkin patch cupcakes for social media and the next, we had masses and masses of people streaming in asking for them.
Once we’d realized what was going on and just how many people were getting in line to get those cupcakes, Alan rushed to the back to get more dough and buttercream going, citing that I was better and quicker at handling our register than he was.
We switched places once they were done, and I got to work, piping what must have been a million cupcakes today. We even had to limit how many a person could buy to keep it fair, because there were more than enough asking for like forty cupcakes to take home.
Now my arm is hurting, there’s a tightness in my shoulders and my fingers are stiff, but damn, is it gratifying to see people line up for an hour for something I’ve created.
“He just wanted to check in,” Bailey says nonchalantly, but there is just something about his expression, the slighted twinge of mischief in his eyes… I don’t buy it.
I narrow my eyes and point at him threateningly. “You’re lying to me.”
“What? I would never.” He looks at me with wide eyes, and I shake my head at him.
“You can’t fool me. Why are you not telling me?”
“Because you two are the couple.” He points between me and somewhere in the room where I assume Jackson stood just a little bit ago. “Whatever’s going on between you two, that’s yours to settle. I’m not getting into that. Unless you’re willing to pay me as a mediator or couples counsellor, I’m staying SO far away from your relationship.”
“What’s there to settle?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “If he’s with his co-star, then he’s with his co-star. I’m sure he was just here to let me down gently.”
“You think?” Irony drips from his voice, and I could just hit that smirking face of his. He definitely knows something I don’t.
“Smugness doesn’t suit you,” I tell him with an annoyed sigh, and he pretends to be shocked.
“Oh no, how will I survive?”
“You’re a dick.”
“Hell yes, I am.” He grins at me, then turns around, fleeing to his side of the store. “He said he’s coming back around closing. Ask him directly.”
“You know what? I will.” I fight the urge to stomp my foot like an angry child, but as I turn around, I slowly raise my middle finger at him, hiding it from Alan, who’s just stomping into the showroom, notepad in his hand and cursing under his breath.
“God damn, I need to go shopping for tomorrow once we’re closed. They’ve just depleted our supplies for the whole week.” He sighs, and I shoot him a grin.
“You’re welcome.”
The closer we get to closing up for the day, the more nervous I get.
What do I even expect Jackson to say? Or hope? Just confirmation that he’s with his co-star?
At least that would be a quick end to whatever hope I had that we could be more, just more proof that words don’t matter, actions do.
Now what if he denies it? Could I even believe him? They did look awfully friendly in that picture.
My fingers tap the counter as I count down the minutes, startling when the door to Bake and Books opens with a familiar jingle that tells me without looking up that it’s him.
Not many people push the door open abruptly like he does.
Alan has already left, mentioning a run to the supermarket to stock up for the rest of the week, until our suppliers bring the regularly pre-ordered ingredients. He also spent a good amount of time on the phone with them to order more.
“I don’t even know where to put all that shit,” he’d grumbled under his breath, but the video shows no signs of slowing down. I’m sure the next few days will be stressful as fuck.
Bailey is sorting through a new stack of books that arrived. Knowing that highly focused look on his face, I’m sure they’re pre-orders he’s putting together, trying his best to not get any names wrong.
Jackson looks around and closes the door behind him, flipping around our open sign so no more people will attempt to come in. It doesn’t deter people from trying to peek inside though; after all, we’re a new online sensation.
“Hi,” he greets me, sounding normal but something’s off.
His face doesn’t break into the usual wide grin, and he’s not carrying himself with the confidence I’ve learned he has. No, his shoulders are tense and his fingers are playing with the zipper of his jacket nervously.
“Hi.” I hate that it sounds like a question, but I’m unsure how to act.
“Just ignore me!” Bailey shouts, making the two of us, of course, turn to him. “Didn’t you listen? I said ignore me!”
He makes a whooshing motion with his hand for us to turn back around and a smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I do just that.
“Had a stressful day, huh?” Jackson asks, slowly coming closer to the counter.
My hands, desperate for something to do, reach for a rag, and I start wiping the space in front of me. “Oh yeah, definitely. So many customers.”
I shoot him an unsure grin.
“That’s great,” he says awkwardly. Then we look at each other in silence.
“For fuck’s sake,” Bailey exhales, then stomps over, positioning himself between the two of us. So much for ignoring him. “Listening to you two is painful. Do you see these books?” he asks and points behind him to his side of the store. Confused, Jackson turns around and I nod slowly.
“Do you see them?” he asks louder and both of us nod, this time more energetically. Damn, Bailey can be scary.
“Well, I’ve read most of them. But you know what I’m not going to do? Let you two become the fucking miscommunication trope.” He throws his arms in the air, clearly frustrated at us and I stare at him with wide eyes, as does Jackson.
Where’s this outburst coming from?
“So now I’m going to go out, lock the fucking door, and I’ll only let you out once you’ve talked. And/or fucked. If you do, please do it far away from my books. I would like to sell those. Good luck.”
Before either of us can react, he stomps outside and, as threatened, closes and locks the door behind him.
“What the—” My eyes dart between Jackson and the door, trying to grasp what just happened.
“I think he wants us to talk,” Jackson says with an unsure chuckle, and I roll my eyes. Yeah, he’s been pretty clear about that.
“About what?”
“Are you back with your ex?” The words tumble from his lips like he can’t hold them back now that he’s got a chance to ask.
“What?”
“I saw you two,” he admits cautiously, his eyes darting around the room—anywhere but at me. “In that restaurant. You had your ring.”
“Well, yeah, and I told him to shove it where the sun doesn't shine,” I explain angrily, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “Why in the hell would I get back with him?”
“I don’t know, strange things happen sometimes,” he mumbles with a shrug, and I fight the urge to either kiss or hit him.
“That’s rich coming from you. Aren’t you with your co-star now? Is that one of those ‘strange things?’”
An exasperated sigh leaves him, and he starts pacing the store, running his hand through his curls.
“I can’t believe everyone thinks that.” He stops to face me. “Listen, we went out to dinner with the whole crew after she finished filming her last scene. She stepped outside for a bit of fresh air as I left. I told her goodbye with half a hug and someone snapped that picture. What about that damned picture even indicates that we’re an item? It’s not like we’re kissing!”
I suddenly deflate, realizing he’s right. I let my insecurity get the better of me, it seems.
“You’re right,” I admit, and now it’s my turn to evade his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you trust me?” he asks, his voice breaking, and I flinch when I hear the hurt in his voice. “I meant it when I said I want to date you. Asking me that is no better than me wondering if you’re back with your ex.”
“I do trust you,” I admit softly and gulp past the emotions forming in my throat. “You’ve never given me a reason not to. With everything that’s happened, it’s just hard, sometimes. And I still can’t quite believe you actually want to date me.”
When I finally lift my gaze again, I meet his eyes, full of understanding.
“Look, I get it,” he says and steps closer. “This is a lot. And I’m sorry too. I should have known better than to assume you got back with your ex.”
I put down the rag and finally emerge from behind the counter. It doesn’t feel right to have anything between us anymore.
“You know, when my parents died, everything changed overnight for me,” he explains. I step closer, reaching for his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Suddenly, I had to grow up. Suddenly, I was the oldest brother, as Adam stepped into more of a father role. And I hated it,” he admits with a chuckle. “I’ve hated change ever since. When Adam got his girlfriend earlier this year, I didn’t know where to put my emotions, so they turned into anger.”
He pulls me closer by our intertwined hands, laying his palm to my cheek and burying his fingers in my hair. “But you,” his face is only a breath away from mine, “you are the first change in my life I’m actually looking forward to. I’d never lie to you.”
I look at him with wide eyes, my heart fluttering furiously in my chest as I feel my cheeks turn red with heat.
Fuck, what do you even say to that? I remain silent, eyes darting over his face as a happy smile pulls at his lips, his eyes firmly on mine.
“Can I kiss you again?” he asks in a whisper, cradling my face between his hands, drawing slow circles with his thumb.
I can’t help it. I lean my face into his palm, like a cat begging for love. “Yes. Please,” I whisper, my lips breaking into a smile as they meet his.