Chapter 19
NINETEEN
AINSLEY
Jackson slowly pulls his G-Wagon into what looks like a luxury hotel, or even an exclusive resort. Oh my God, this is his driveway? I knew by what Jackson drives that his family has money, but this is insane. There's no way this is his dad’s house.
“This is your house? I mean this is the house you grew up in?” I’m trying not to look so awestruck, but it’s hard when you pull up to something that could be owned by a Kardashian. The car continues to climb up the drive. I'm able to make out multiple patios with various expensive-looking outdoor furniture. Fuck me, this place is a castle.
“Yeah, this is home. My dad bought it right before I was born; he claims it was a steal.” His eye roll and sarcasm don't go unnoticed. Looking closer at the large-scale mansion Jackson calls home, I see an archway covering the most impressive glass panel front door I have ever seen. “Overwhelming” is an understatement for how huge his home is compared to the home I grew up in.
“Your house is breathtaking. Truly, it is.” I'm now contemplating my outfit choice. If I knew we were going to a house fit for a royal, I would have dressed nicer. I hope for my sake, Jackson is cool with me staying in the car while he grabs whatever his dad needs him to grab.
He opens his door and pauses when he sees I’m not doing the same. “It might be a few Toots, why don’t you come inside?” He is so kind, and fuck, that smile could possibly make me say yes to almost anything.
“Oh, are you sure? I could just wait here for you.” I accidentally glance at my worn-out Chucks in dismay and regret it. I don’t like to let anyone know when I feel out of place. It takes away from the new-and-improved Ainsley I'm trying to be. At this time in my life, my give-a-fucks are on vacation.
“No way, come inside with me.” He exits the car and moves around to my side, opening my door. I guess I am meeting his dad. How is he going to introduce me? I mean, I know we talked about dating, but labels weren’t discussed. I’m sure he’ll say I’m his friend from school. Right? It’s fine; I’m fine. This will all be…fine.
We enter through the front door, and oh my God—this house is as extravagant on the inside as it is on the outside. The main entry features vaulted ceilings as high as the second story, and there’s a white marble staircase with gold handrails in the center of the room. I peer around Jackson to see beautiful chandeliers hanging from every visible ceiling. White marble and gold cascade through this insanely gorgeous home. I feel out of place here—my parents do very well, but this is a whole other level of wealth.
“Oh wait up, Toots. Take your shoes off. My mom is never here, but if she checks the camera feed and sees anyone wear shoes in the house, she will lose her shit.” Well shit, thank God I wore matching socks today.
“Oh yeah, no problem.” I kick off my first shoe by pressing on the back of my heel with my other, then use my foot to push off the other one. Jackson sits on an ivory leather-padded bench with gold legs—I wouldn’t be surprised if their furniture was handpicked from Marie Antoinette’s collection. Okay, seriously? The way this man is untying his shoes and neatly placing them to the side makes me look like a caveman.
He grabs my shoes and places them next to his when the sound of someone clearing their throat echoes. “Jackson my boy, thank you for coming on short notice. And who do we have here?”
The man walking toward us is polished. He looks exactly like Jackson, but with lighter hair from the grays streaking through. Same height, and for the most part, same build. Jackson is a tad bulkier—probably from endless workouts and football practices—but his dad isn’t far off. He's wearing black suit pants with a gray long-sleeve dress shirt. The buttons are all fastened with the exception of the top two. He's eyeing me with curiosity as I do the same. Overall, he's objectively handsome for his age, but old dudes aren’t my type. Jordan, on the other hand, obsesses over middle-aged men. Quoting her, “What? I like my men with experience.”
“Dad.” Jackson reaches out to shake his hand. His happy attitude is now replaced with tension. He doesn’t look thrilled to see his dad. “This is Ainsley, my girlfriend.” I cough, choking on the small amount of saliva in my mouth. He gestures his head in my direction. Woah, girlfriend? I wasn't expecting the label so soon.
“Girlfriend, huh?” I see the look of surprise on his dad’s face. What, does Jackson not have girlfriends? Surely I can’t be the first.”
“You heard me.” There's heat radiating off of Jackson.
“Ainsley, it’s so nice to meet you. I am Levi Davis, Jackson’s father. I've heard nothing but wonderful things from my son.” I know what he says is a lie. He was just as surprised as I was that Jackson introduced me as his girlfriend.
“Nice to meet you, sir. You have a beautiful home.” As he shakes my hand, I notice the subtle way his eyes skim down to my bare legs, then back up to my face. Gross, I was just checked out by Jackson’s old dad. I quickly take my hand out of his as Jackson scoffs, obviously seeing the quick eye-fuck he gave me.
“Ainsley, why don’t you walk around and explore downstairs? I need to meet with my father in his office for a few.”
“It was nice to meet you, Ainsley. I look forward to Jackson bringing you over again.” The way he says that sends a chill down my spine. Regardless of his handsome features, he gives me the ick.
“Yeah, sounds good.” We part ways, and I roam through each room, eyeing the beautiful matching furniture and décor. I didn’t miss Jackson telling me his mom is never here, but his parents are still married—I saw the wedding ring on his dad’s left hand. Maybe Mr. Davis gives her the ick too, and she chooses to stay away. Still, that seems sad for Jackson. It’s obvious he doesn’t get along with his dad.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Jackson walks down the stairs looking more irritated than he was before. When he notices me standing at the front door with my shoes back on, he fixes his face back into a smile. “Did you get everything you needed?” I’m not asking what his dad needed him to pick up, just trying to break the tension.
“Yeah I did. Let’s go.” Short and to the point. He holds my hand as he walks me out of his lavish family home.
“Hey, is everything okay? You look angry,” I ask with concern.
“I’m fine. My dad has this way of constantly putting me on edge. The work he has me doing is—” Abruptly, he stops what he was going to say and tries to close the door but I stop him.
“Jackson, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.” I give him the out. He has some deep-rooted issues with his father, and we just started dating.
“Yeah it’s a long story, maybe for another day.” I nod, taking that as his answer. “I have some errands to run, so I’m going to drop you off at your dorm, if that’s okay.”
“That’s fine. I want to get ahead on some assignments for the week,” I say, not wanting to sound too excited at the idea of going home.
Once in the driver’s seat, he turns to face me as I do the same. His hands come up to my face, pulling me in for a kiss. It’s nothing remarkable, no tongue, but sweet nonetheless. A smile forms on my lips as he kisses me again.
I break the kiss when my phone dings from multiple incoming texts—I took my phone off “do not disturb” when I got in the car. I open them, immediately regretting not waiting until I got home.
Ace
I don’t care what your brother says. You and Jackson are not happening. End it or I will find a way to make you end it.
Then another text after that.
Ace
Try to understand that I am only looking out for you. He's bad news.
The last text pops up.
Ace
I guess you are choosing to be a bad girl. Fine have it your way, but your bratty behavior will not go unpunished.
I quickly black out my screen, turning my phone over on my thigh. I look over at Jackson to see he's staring at me.
“Who was that?” he asks with an accusatory bite. Why does he need to know who's texting me? “It was Ace. He was asking if I knew where Morgan was.” Great, now I'm a liar.
He nods slowly, letting my answer ferment in his mind, not necessarily believing me. “Ainsley.” He rarely calls me by my name. “You’re my girl, and while I can understand you have a history with your brother's best friend, ” I don’t miss his emphasis on brother’s best friend. “I hope you can put effort into what you and I could be, and not continuously give your attention to someone that doesn’t deserve it.”
I read him loud and clear: he's not cool with Ace and I being friends. I don’t agree with his approach, but I do agree with the fact that Ace and I should not be constantly around each other. Not if I want Morgan’s suspicions to subside, and not if I truly want to give a relationship with Jackson a chance.
The dynamic between Ace and I needs to change. He is in no place to control who I choose to date, and if he pushes me, I'll push back.