Chapter 21 - Isaac
Five years ago, I lost the man I loved. He left without even saying goodbye, and I don’t know why. I’ve never gotten any closer to figuring out the reason he disappeared without a word. But the thing I’ve refused to say out loud all this time is…
I fear it was because of me.
My arms tighten around Jackson. I’m afraid to let him go, worried the same thing might happen all over again.
“I didn’t hurt Dylan,” I tell him, a desperate edge to my voice. Desperate for him to believe me.
“I believe you.”
I didn’t realize how much tension I was holding onto until it all comes bleeding out of me, an unbearable weight lifting off my chest so I can finally breathe.
Pulling back, I meet Jackson’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”
His brow furrows. “For what?”
I place my hand on the side of his neck and brush my thumb across his cheek, the corners of my mouth pulled down by the burden of my own guilt. “I thought you were a trap set by your father.”
The way his entire face falls guts me to my very core. “I would never do that.”
“I know. I’m sorry I thought you would.”
I thought I had let go of those suspicions, but it turns out paranoia can latch onto you as relentlessly as gossip.
Keaton and I have had our issues, pretty fucking big ones. Neither of us trusted each other when it came to Dylan’s disappearance. When Jackson came out as bisexual while he was in my class, the timing of it was too much of a coincidence for my brain to completely ignore.
But now, with him in front of me after more truths than either of us were prepared for have come out, I hate myself for suspecting him at all.
His eyes search mine. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but I think I’d be willing to show him just about anything he wants to see.
To bare my heart to him even if I bleed out.
I’ve only known Jackson for a semester. We’ve only kissed a handful of times.
But there’s something about his soul that calls to mine, that makes me believe we’re both exactly where we’re meant to be.
Since he’s clearly searching for something, I decide to offer him a little piece. Something I’ve kept locked away for a long time, just one of my deepest secrets.
“Sometimes I’m afraid that I hurt Dylan unintentionally. That I did cause him pain and that I’m the one who drove him away.”
The admission cracks something open in me, and I hate how it makes me sound. Helpless, human. Scared. But Jackson doesn’t flinch. He just stares at me like he can see the guilt I’ve spent all this time trying to bury.
“I’ve struggled with that for years, and I never want to feel like that with someone else ever again.”
He gives me a small smile, but there’s a certain degree of sadness in his eyes. “You still love him?”
“No,” I tell him without hesitation, and I know it’s the truth. “I did. Very much. But that was a long time ago.”
“Would you tell me what happened?”
It’s a fair question. As much as I don’t want to relive it, I told Jackson I’d earn his trust.
“Dylan was hiding something. Like everyone else seems to, he was holding onto secrets that he refused to share with me. We fought about it the night before he disappeared. I got…angry. Not throw-him-over-a-bridge angry, but…”
Jackson lets out a soft laugh, which gives me hope that maybe he really has forgiven me for that.
“But I did say some things I didn’t mean, and he walked out.
I thought he’d come back once he cooled off.
But he never did.” I swallow hard, forcing the words past the ache in my throat.
“I used to replay that night over in my head, wondering if something I said was what made him leave. If I really am the reason he’s gone. ”
He takes a slow breath. “I think that just means that we both need to stop keeping secrets.”
My chest tightens. “What do you mean?”
He pulls back enough to look at me fully, and for one awful second, I think he’s about to tell me he’s changed his mind.
But then he says, “I didn’t follow you to the bridge that night. Someone emailed me to go there.”
I don’t move. I can’t. Like the blood in my veins has turned to ice water.
My voice croaks when I ask, “What?”
“I don’t know who it was, but they tried to make me think they were Dylan at first. They knew things. But I think it was all a trick to get me there that night.”
The room suddenly feels smaller. The walls closer. The air heavier.
“You don’t know who it was?”
He shakes his head. “No, and I blocked the address as soon as I got home that night. I didn’t want them fucking with me anymore.”
It’s a small relief knowing that Jackson was self-controlled enough to do that, that his curiosity didn’t press him to fall deeper into that hole.
“That was smart,” I tell him. “Thank you for telling me.”
For the first time in five years, I feel a small sliver of my guilt being chipped away. Someone was pretending to be Dylan, which means there might be a good chance that whoever it was had something to do with Dylan leaving.
Maybe it wasn’t all my fault.
Of course, that little bit of guilt is only replaced by something darker, a threat hanging over our heads. Jackson may have blocked the address, but I don’t expect for a second that means whoever it was is done.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he says.
“You told me now.” I close the distance between us again and hold his face between my hands. “And now I need you to promise me that if anything out of the ordinary happens, anything at all, you’ll let me know. So we can figure it out together.”
“I promise.” His eyes roam my face as a faint, hesitant smile curls his lips. “Is it weird? That, you know, he’s my…brother?”
“Maybe a little,” I admit. “But it’s not an issue with me if it’s not with you.”
His smile reaches his eyes now. “Not with us, but…I mean, it’s a little weird knowing I have a brother at all.”
“I’m sorry your father kept that from you.”
He shrugs. “I don’t want to think about it right now.”
“Maybe I can help take your mind off of it.”
I need to take my mind off things too.
His breath hitches, and for a moment, it’s like the world stops pressing down so hard.
Because even if everything else is falling apart around us—his family, everyone’s history with Dylan, the ghosts that refuse to stay buried—he’s still here.
And I won’t ever let him go.
Moving one hand to the small of his back to hold him close, I slide the other to the back of his head and tangle my fingers in his hair.
I press my lips lightly against his, savoring how soft and full they are.
The moment I start to deepen the kiss, the corner of my mouth stings.
I hiss as I pull back to touch the spot.
Jackson grins. “What happened to acting like adults?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Careful, Mr. Ellis. Throwing my words back at me like that might get you punished.”
A shiver visibly races through him.
“But you’re not entirely wrong,” I tell him as my expression softens. “Your dad got a good hit in, but I had it coming after attacking him in his own office all those years ago. I admit that wasn’t my proudest moment. Among others.”
“For the record, I never started any of those fights with Pierce.”
“I’m well aware of that. I’m not proud of how I handled that either. I apologize that I made it seem like I was out to get you. I was attracted to you, and I thought keeping distance between us was the smart thing to do because I was so scared of the past repeating itself.”
A wicked little glint glimmers in his eyes. “You could always make it up to me.”
My arm that’s still around his waist tightens, and I tug his hair by the roots to tip his head back, skimming my lips up his throat and across his jaw.
“I’ll fucking worship you, sweetheart.”
He moans and thrusts his hips against mine, letting me feel how hard he’s already getting. “I thought you were going to punish me.”
“Oh, I’m more than capable of doing both.”
Letting go of his hair, I pick him up until his legs wrap around my waist. He throws his arms around my neck and kisses me as I carry him through the house. When the kiss turns deeper, more feral with every noise he makes, I have to stop in the hallway to press his back against the wall.
I need more.
More contact.
More skin.
More of him.
Pinning him to the wall with my hips, I reach for the hem of his hoodie before pulling it up and over his head, followed by his long-sleeve shirt.
After each time our kiss breaks, he returns to my mouth with even more ferocity.
Our teeth clash, our tongues battle. Heat ignites beneath my palms from the warmth of his skin as my hands roam.
I map the contours of his body, learning every inch by touch, getting a feel for every part of him that I’m craving to taste.
I let my nails rake across his back. I pinch his nipples between my fingers.
All the while, he’s grinding more desperately against me, his noises turning more needy.
I’m about to fuck him in the damn hallway if I don’t move this elsewhere.
Wrapping my arms around him again, I continue carrying him down the hall and past the kitchen. The scent of Earl Gray is faint, the tea cold and long forgotten.
Once we’re in my bedroom, I drop him onto the dark gray duvet as I fall into the bed with him, covering his body with mine without my mouth ever leaving his. We kiss and grind, both of us fully hard now as we chase the friction of each other.
My mouth moves and my hands go to the button of his jeans, kissing and licking my way down the column of his throat.
“I’ve been dying to have you in my bed, Jackson,” I tell him, my voice a husky whisper. “I’m going to break you apart and then put you back together again.”
He squirms beneath me. “Fuck.”