Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
AINSLEY
I feel like I've been hit with a sledgehammer right to the gut. Déjà vu crashes into me, and it takes everything in me to stop my eyes from welling up with tears. I know why he said it, it was the only explanation he could give to get Morgan off our backs. The sting of his words didn’t burn any less knowing that.
My brother may not be fully convinced—he'll be keeping a closer eye on us now that he has his suspicions—but at least he somewhat bought it. Enough to not rain hell on Ace. I swear I’m not a selfish girl. As much as I want Ace, the demise of their friendship would kill me just as much as it would kill him.
Footsteps prance down the stairs. Looking up, I see Cass at the bottom of the staircase, looking confused at the uncomfortable situation she walked in on. “Hey guys... What am I missing?” She raises one eyebrow, but we all shrug her off. I chime in first.
“Nope, nothing at all. How'd you sleep, party girl?” I walk over to her, placing my arm around her shoulders.
“Ha, funny. I slept—“ Cass pauses like she's lost in thought, but quickly recovers.
“Fine,” she says while moving us toward the kitchen. She's been so off lately; I know I'm worrying too much about her. I tell myself it will be fine. This is my level-headed best friend—if something was seriously going on, she would tell me.
My phone dings from the side table. I walk over to pick it up, seeing I have a few texts and a missed call from Jackson. Going to the texts first, I see the first one is an apology for how last night went. The second text, he asks if we can meet up to talk. The third text says he's going to call me. Damn. I’m not even mad about last night. Yeah, it was annoying having to deal with an irate Tetherball Tara, but not a huge deal. Jackson and I just recently started talking, so I have no right to be upset. With everything Ace and I said and did last night, how could I?
I exit out of the text, and tap my finger on the missed calls and see he left a voicemail. God, the only people that ever leave me voicemails are my parents. I press play, not realizing it’s on speaker until it’s too late. Jackson’s voice carries through the house. I quickly try to take it off the speakerphone, but my screen goes black.
“Hey, Toots. I texted you a few times. Look, I’m sorry for last night. I am not with Tara. The way she acted was crazy. I hope you aren’t mad. Um, you think we can meet up today for lunch? I can pick you up from your dorm. Call or text back when you get this. ‘Kay, bye.”
The voicemail ends and I can feel three sets of eyes staring at me. Looking at Cass first, she has a huge grin on her face. She knows I didn’t do that on purpose with the frantic way I was trying to stop it from playing, but she shines her proud mama bear smile at me. Morgan is the next one I glance at, and he surprisingly doesn’t look as mad as I thought he'd be. Once my eyes find Ace’s, I know what he's thinking, and he better mask it quickly. We barely convinced Morgan nothing happened; if he keeps looking at me like that, it will be for nothing.
Morgan snaps my attention back to him. “Okay baby sister, here’s the deal. If you are going to continue to be friends with that jackass, there needs to be ground rules.” Wow, does this mean Morgan would be okay with Jackson and I dating? I know that won’t be the case for the man standing behind him, scowling at the back of my brother’s head.
“Dude, you can’t be serious! I thought we were trying to stop that from happening.” I know Ace is trying everything he can to not sound as pissed off as he is. The man just told me he was in love with me last night, I’m sure he's raging inside. Morgan turns to face him.
“Yeah man, I know, but she's going to talk to him regardless of what we tell her. He’s a dick, but also might really like her. He’ll need to know that if he does anything to her, I'll rearrange his face so badly that not even the best plastic surgeon his daddy hires could fix it.” Morgan’s threat is heard loud and clear. For God’s sake, these two are ridiculous.
Ace huffs in annoyance, but knows he can’t say more without sounding alarm bells to my brother. Cassie laughs out loud. “You both are insane. I'm so happy I don’t have to deal with the likes of you two when it comes to my love life.” Shaking her head side to side, her joy is quickly interrupted by Morgan.
“Ha, what love life Cassandra?” Oh fuck, not this again. I need to squash this before they go at each other for another round.
“Momo don’t start, she's right. I bet it’s nice not having two overbearing asshats trying to control everything you do when it comes to the male species.” The nickname drop was intentional. Hopefully calling him Momo will shift what was going to be an uncomfortable verbal sparring.
“Mini Copeland, what did I tell you about calling me that? We aren’t kids anymore.” The growl in his voice falls on deaf ears.
“Yes I know, but why would I let go of such a cute nickname, brother?” I wink at him as he drops his shoulders in defeat.
“Call Jackson back, AC. I mean seriously, the guy texted you multiple times and left you a voicemail. Who leaves voicemails anymore?” She must want to stir the pot. Another grunt from Ace. I tell her I will call him later, but that doesn’t seem to be good enough for her. She knows what she's doing. If I call Jackson in front of them, Ace will get riled up in the worst way. She doesn’t know what happened last night and why this is a bad idea. “Do it, call him, bitch.” Damn, she's not going to let this go. I let out a frustrated groan knowing I will regret this, but choose to press call on Jackson’s name anyway. He answers on the first ring.
“Toots…Hey, I’m happy you called.” He sounds relieved. I was smart this time and made sure he wasn't on speakerphone. “Hey Jackson. Yeah, no worries about last night. Seriously. It’s cool.” I’m not playing anything off, because I’m not mad at all.
“Can I pick you up? Let’s go to lunch.” His tone is eager. I think it’s cute that he is so concerned with how I'm feeling about last night. My eyes meet Ace's—they're burning holes into me. It’s unfortunate, but this is where we are. He doesn’t want to lose my brother, and if I’m being honest, I don’t want him to lose him either.
“Yeah, sure. I have to go home and shower, but I can be ready in a couple hours.” Ace cleaned us both up from the mess he made of my stomach and chest, but I still need to shower. Because…yuck.
“You didn’t stay at your house last night?” His voice takes a deeper octave, and I’m thrown off a bit that he doesn’t sound like his usual happy-go-lucky self.
“Um…yeah. We were buzzed last night, and didn’t want to get into trouble at the dorm. So we ended up crashing at my brother’s house.” I don’t know why I’m defending myself; I shouldn’t have to. The line goes quiet and I pull the phone away from my ear to make sure the call didn’t drop. It didn’t.
“So you stayed with Ace?” Woah, what is with his line of questioning? It’s not like he’s my boyfriend. I can’t say much with present company, so I try to give him a vague answer.
“No, I stayed at my brother’s house with Cassie.” I try to change the subject quickly. “You want to pick me up in a couple hours?” I ask, hoping he drops it. I didn’t get crazy with him when Psycho Barbie came flailing out on the dance floor guns blazing, so he needs to chill. Changing the subject seems to do the trick.
“Yeah, Toots. I'll be there soon.” Jackson sounds like he's trying to mask frustration. I just want this call to be done. I can feel their eyes on me, so I give him a quick “see you later” and hang up.
Cassie is the first to speak up. “Okay, so you're meeting up with him? Go AC! He’s hot, and I fully support this.” Her smile beams bright at me, and I laugh her off.
“Yes, we’re meeting up later, so he can I assume apologize for something I’m not even mad about.” I grin widely back at her, avoiding eye contact with Ace. I hope he's smart enough to not say what he's thinking. Morgan doesn’t need more red flags. Ace doesn’t speak, but I know he's level ten pissed at me.
* * *
Another awkward car ride back to our dorm has me uneasy. I wish Ace and I had a moment alone to talk, but Morgan made it impossible.
An hour later, I'm showered and ready for Jackson to pick me up. When I get his text to meet him outside, I quickly look in the mirror and glide on Chapstick, before heading out to meet him at his car. He's standing on the passenger side, looking like the snack he is. The gray fitted running shorts that come a couple inches above his knees show off his large thigh muscles, and the way his t-shirt fits him should be illegal. The bronze glow of his sun-kissed skin tells me he spent his summer outside. I could do this…be with Jackson. He's nice, genuinely showing interest in me. Why not? I can't be with Ace, and I refuse to obey his warning to leave Jackson alone.
He smiles like the pretty boy he is as his eyes roam up and down my body. The weather is warm today, so I'm wearing cut-off denim shorts with a tight-fitting black tank that shows off the perfect amount of cleavage. Keeping with the casual look, I’m sporting a pair of my old low-top white Converse that have seen better days.
“You look good, Toots. Come on, let's go.” Moving to the side, he pulls the door to his G-Wagon open for me. I shyly thank him and hop in. He walks around the SUV, stopping at a spot in the front to wipe his thumb across what I am assuming is a smudge.
God, men and their cars.
Once he's in, he sighs a bit, turning to face me. “Hey, I know you said you weren’t mad, but I want you to know I'm not with Tara at all. We hooked up last year and that was it. She's bat-shit crazy, and thinks because our dads ship us together that we're a thing. We’re not.” There's truth in his eyes, and I have no reason to doubt him.
“I get it, I believe you. I’m serious when I say I’m not mad.” Relief floods his face.
“Okay, what sounds good? I’m starving.” His hand pats his chiseled stomach as he pulls his car out onto the road.
“Honestly, anything. I’m pretty hungry, too,” I say because yet again, I went another morning after drinking without breakfast. Ugh, I need better eating habits.
We decide on a sandwich shop. Looking at the menu, it was a good choice—the food sounds amazing. I opt for a turkey club on a fluffy white roll with avocado and cranberry sauce. Seriously, don’t knock the cranberry sauce until you’ve tried it. You can thank me later. Jackson orders some monstrous Italian sub with five different types of meat. The sandwich is the size of my head, but I guess being a football player, you have a huge appetite.
Lunch goes smoothly as we talk about classes this week and his upcoming games. It’s all casual, and he doesn’t bring up Ace once. We finish our food, and I am thoroughly stuffed. As we head back to his car, he grabs my hand, pulling me into his chest. He cups the side of my face, tucking some hair behind my ear. I think he's going to kiss me as he lingers his lips close to mine, but he doesn’t.
“Ainsley, what are we doing? Do you want to be with me or is friendship all you want? I’m fine with either, but need to know.” Backing away from me a step, he gestures his finger back and forth between us. Friendship was what I was aiming for at first, but why shouldn’t I see where this thing goes between us? Ace and I will never happen despite our feelings for one another, so why make myself miserable? I’m eighteen years old, I should give myself the opportunity to be with someone who can commit to me fully.
“I like you Jackson, and would like to see where this goes, too.” I reciprocate the smile he's giving me, and we walk back to his car. This could be good for me…He could be good for me.
His phone syncs up with the stereo as I buckle my seatbelt, and some pop song comes on. I think it’s Katy Perry or some other pop diva like her. I accidentally groan out loud.
“What? You don’t like this song? I thought all chicks did.” Hmmm, chicks? I'll definitely need to school him on music and calling me a chick. “Umm…no. Not all ‘chicks’ like this music, especially me.” My eyes roll hard.
“Whoa, alright Toots.” He fumbles with his phone and lets me know he disconnected his Bluetooth. “Sync up, and let’s hear what you got.” I pull my phone out to Bluetooth to his stereo. I'm not sure if he played that song because of me or if he actually likes it. I’m connected, but taking my time choosing a song. I choose songs based on my mood, just like I do with books. So I guess I'm a mood reader and a mood listener.
I play “Suite Sister Mary” by Queensryche. It’s an eighties ballad about a man getting sent by his crew to kill the woman he loves. The song is kind of dark, but it’s Queensryche, so it’s badass. As I listen to one of my favorites, I sing along.
When I look over at Jackson, I can tell he's never heard this song before. Not going to lie, that's pretty disappointing. Two people dating can have different likes and dislikes, so I can’t red flag Jackson if he turns out to have bad taste in music. “Sooo…What do you think?” I ask in a playful, “please don’t bash my music” sort of way.
“It’s not the worst song in the world, but not my cup of tea.” Not the worst song in the world? This song is amazing. If he ever meets my parents, I need to make a note to never bring up music. Mr. and Mrs. Copeland would school him in a quick second, then proceed to play him song after song until he gets with the program.
“Okay, so what type of music do you listen to?”
Please don’t say the one genre I refuse to listen to.
“Country all the way.” Ugh, he said it. The one genre I refuse to listen to. It takes everything in me to keep from rolling my eyes. “Oh, that’s…nice.” Seriously, that's all I can muster.
“I take it you aren’t a country girl?”
“Um…no, but we can just agree to disagree when it comes to music.” We awkwardly laugh, not having more to say on the topic. I notice we aren’t driving in the direction of my dorm. I was planning to head home after lunch to get ahead on my assignments.
“Where are we going?” I want to know what is stalling my date with my sweatpants.
“My dad texted, he needs me to swing by to pick something up. Is that cool?” I nod at him. Damn, not even fifteen minutes ago we decided to start dating and now I'm going to meet his dad?
“Yeah, that’s cool with me.” I leave my playlist on shuffle, but lower the volume. Maybe I can wait in the car, he said he was only needing to pick something up.