Chapter 20 - Jackson
These last two months of the semester were hell, a slow-burning, intoxicating hell.
Toward the end, I drowned myself in essays, research papers, and exams, pretending the workload could smother everything else. The memory of his hands on me. The warmth of his breath against my skin. The look in his eyes right before he kissed me.
It almost worked.
However, being in the same classroom with Isaac three times a week, pretending like nothing had happened between us, pretending like his gaze didn’t still linger on me every time I spoke…
That was torture in its purest form.
I’d catch him looking at me sometimes when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.
Just a flicker of his gaze, lingering too long before he forced himself back to the discussion he was supposed to be leading with the entire class.
Other days, it was the opposite. I’d catch myself watching him.
Watching the way he moved through the room with his quiet confidence, the way his voice shifted when he read passages aloud, the faintest edge of something darker buried beneath every word.
Our class discussions had settled into their old rhythm.
Kind of. Circling themes of fate and morality, of gods and men.
But every time we debated in class and his voice rose to challenge mine or his mouth curved when I said something that surprised him, it felt like more than simple academics.
It felt like he was daring me to remember what we’d promised not to touch again.
I keep replaying that night in my head. Not the bridge or the moment in the shadows of the trees, but of me in his lap inside his car, when he told me he’d earn my trust. The feel of his arms around me.
The way it felt to finally stop shaking in his lap.
I miss the warmth of him, the steady weight of his hand at the back of my neck.
The quiet way he said my name like it was something worth protecting.
When my final grades came, I stared at the “A” next to World Literature II for a long time before noticing a new email. It was from Professor Kendall.
He’d asked me to stop by his office at the end of the day.
I didn’t go. I didn’t respond.
He was right when he told me that not dropping his class was the smart choice. But showing up in his office the same day grades were finalized? That would’ve seemed just as suspicious, if not more so.
We’ve waited this long.
I wasn’t about to let two months of self-control go to waste just because I missed him. I wasn’t going to do the one thing I swore to myself I wouldn’t and risk his career, especially considering Professor Grant made it pretty clear he already suspected something.
But the semester is finally over now.
And now, after two months of restraint, of pretending to be just another student in his class, I’m done waiting.
It’s Christmas Eve, and Bodie and Erin are over so we can have our Friendsmas and exchange gifts.
I got Bodie a shirt with a cat riding a slice of pizza over a rainbow and Erin a Friday the 13th backpack.
We’re all sitting around on the sofa in the guesthouse while I flip through the illustrated edition of Robin Hood that Erin just gave me.
“This is awesome, Erin,” I tell her before tearing my gaze away from the book to give her a big smile. “Thank you.”
“My turn! My turn!”
I gently set my new book on the coffee table before turning to Bodie. “Should I be scared?”
“I mean, it’s not as wicked as a cat surfing a rainbow on a slice of pizza,” he says as he tugs on the hem of his new shirt that he just had to put on right away. “But I think I did pretty good.”
He leans over and takes a badly wrapped package in iridescent purple paper out of his bag and hands it to me over Erin’s lap.
I take it from him and unwrap it with curiosity.
The box doesn’t give away what’s inside, so I open it and pull it out, immediately feeling a stinging sensation behind my eyes as I look down at the nutcracker in my hands.
This one has a sparkly silver suit with rainbows painted on his legs and hat, and he’s holding a Pride flag.
“Thanks, Bode,” I tell him, blinking several times before looking over at him. “I love it.”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal when he knows damn well it is. He’s been my best friend since we were kids, and I know he remembers finding me one day after my mom passed and I had swiped the first of many nutcrackers to keep in my room.
“I’d like to think your mom would approve.”
“I’m sure she’d love it too,” I say with a smile.
“Yeah, the nutcracker too.”
I know he wasn’t just talking about the nutcracker. While I haven’t told my dad the reason my girlfriend kicked me out because I’m worried how he’d react, I think I would’ve felt more comfortable telling my mom the truth. Her love always felt a lot more unconditional than my father’s.
I nod. “I think you’re right.”
When there’s a knock at the door of the guesthouse, I set the nutcracker on the coffee table among scraps of wrapping paper before standing and walking over to answer the door. I’m surprised to see my dad on the other side.
“Sorry to interrupt Friendsmas,” he says as he invites himself inside. “I saw Erin’s car in the driveaway and thought I’d come say merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Mr. E!” Bodie hops off the couch and puffs out his chest. “What do you think of my new shirt?”
My dad’s scrutinizing gaze drifts over Bodie’s shirt, his dark brows scrunching in clear disapproval, like he can’t fathom why anyone would choose to wear something so eccentric. “Very interesting choice, Mr. Thompson.”
“We should actually get going,” says Erin as she stands and slides her arms through the straps of her new backpack. “I think Jackson said he’s heading out soon too.”
“Oh?”
I almost roll my eyes at the curious arch of my dad’s brow, but I stop myself.
He’s been a lot more inquisitive and intrusive since I’ve moved back home, especially after that evening I found him sitting in the kitchen.
Even now, his gaze flits around the guesthouse, and I kind of wish I had put the nutcracker back in its box.
“Yeah, I’m just going to see some other friends.”
As Bodie passes by me on the way to the door, he throws me a knowing wink. Fortunately, his back is facing my dad. However, I can hear the air quotes in his voice when he says, “Have fun with your other friends.”
I confided in Bodie and Erin and told them about my little tryst with Professor Kendall, so I didn’t feel the need to hide the other present that’s sitting on the kitchen counter.
When the door closes behind them, my dad’s eyes fall on the box wrapped in red and gold paper, the name written on the tag.
“Isaac?”
“Uh, yeah. Just one of my other friends.”
“Hmm.”
I try to ignore whatever that might mean as I grab the box and place it in my bag before pulling on my hoodie.
But when he continues to stare at where the gift is with his lips pursed, I can’t shrug it off, like I can see all the suspicions swimming around in his mind.
I may not be ready to come out to him—let alone tell him one of my professors was responsible for my bi-awakening—but I also don’t have any intention of letting him give me shit for it if he figures it out for himself first.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He gives me one of those tight-lipped smiles that don’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll let you get out of here. Have fun.”
“Thanks.”
My dad opens the door and walks out first. I lock up while I watch him go back into the house before I head around to the driveaway.
As I get into my car, thoughts of my dad fall away and are replaced by Isaac. It happens quickly since that’s where my mind has usually been wanting to go for the past couple of months. It wasn’t difficult to get his address, so I start the engine and back out of the driveway.
The roads are mostly empty, blanketed in frost and dying daylight, and every mile I put between myself and home feels like a confession I’m finally ready to make.
I’m done pretending Isaac Kendall is just my professor.
I stand in front of Isaac’s front door, staring into the swirls of the dark wood grain until I feel a little dizzy.
My nerves were going haywire on the drive over, but I didn’t consider how much worse it would get once I was actually here, how my pulse would feel like it’s trying to claw its way out of my throat.
I’m nervous to see where we end up after two months apart, and I can only hope he still wants to see me after I ignored his email last week, worried he read my silence as rejection and already moved on.
My leg won’t stop bouncing, and I’ve already raised my fist twice without knocking.
This is ridiculous.
Raising my hand for a third time, I finally tap twice against the door.
About twenty seconds later—or twenty years if we’re asking my anxiety—the door opens.
Isaac stands on the other side, and…well, fuck me.
I thought his suit vests were sexy, but I think they have some serious competition with the gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips and the white Henley that’s just tight enough to show all the ridges and dips of hard muscle beneath.
“Um.” I’m pretty sure I’ve lost the ability to speak, but I swallow and manage another single syllable. “Hi.”
He stares at me in silence for a few seconds before his gaze moves behind me as though he’s checking to see if I came alone.
“I’m sorry for just showing up. I didn’t know—”
My words get lost somewhere on the way up as he grabs me by the front of my hoodie and drags me inside his house before slamming the door shut and pressing my back against it.
His hands find my face.
Then his mouth is on mine.
The desperate, strangled noise I make is immediate, like it’s been trapped in my chest for the past two months along with the desire to feel his lips against mine again.