39. Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Lisette
T he sun kisses my face, reminding me that I love the lighting most about the guest room Jackson gave me. The entire room is lit during the day, and as someone who needs sunlight in their depressed room, this place is perfect.
A smile touches my lips when I feel his gaze on me, and when I open my eyes, there he is, lying on his elbow, watching me.
“You’re such a creep,” I mumble before a yawn escapes me.
I’ve now slept here for seven nights, and he has been in this bed beside me for five of them. The first four times he came in just to talk to me, which led to kisses and then me convincing him to stay.
Last night, he just walked right in and slipped into bed with me like it has been his routine for the last ten years. No small talk, nothing. He just walked over, slipped his clothes off and crawled in next to me as I rambled on about something I can’t even remember now.
It feels so easy being with him, but every time I step out of this room, there’s a dark cloud looming over me, reminding me this is temporary and I leave today.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, a smile tugging at his lips.
“I most likely have crusty eye boogers and morning breath. Nothing is beautiful about this.”
His smile grows before he wipes the corner of my eye. “You do have eye boogers.”
“Ew.” I break into a laugh as I push his hand away when he reaches for my other eye. “You’re getting too comfortable.”
“I was kidding .” He rolls his eyes before trying to steal a kiss, but I turn my head and his lips land on my cheek.
“Morning breath.” I cover my mouth, but he pushes my hand away and kisses me anyway.
“Your breath actually smells better than yesterday which proves my claim that it’s beneficial to floss and use mouthwash, morning and night.”
“Oh my god.” I pull the covers over my face as he goes on with this argument again.
“I’m being serious.”
“You’re a dad , you’re always serious.”
He ignores my jab. “I’m surprised your teeth are so white for someone who doesn’t floss and use mouthwash, let alone not brush their teeth at night.”
“Wait until you find out I sometimes don’t brush my teeth at all.” I pull the covers off my face to see his mortified face and another laugh spills past my lips.
“You’re joking.” He watches me carefully.
“Is poor dental hygiene a deal breaker?”
“Yes,” he answers so quickly, pulling another laugh out of me.
“Well, I’ll go ahead and collect my things.” I sit up in the bed and he still looks mortified.
“You’re being serious.” He sits up with me and I roll my eyes at how dramatic he’s being.
“Calm down, it’s only when I’m too sad to get out of bed.”
His face changes now in understanding.
“No point in brushing my teeth if I’m just going to lay in bed and stare out into the abyss until I fall back to sleep.” I shrug and his eyes soften.
“How often is that?”
“Depends.”
“On what?” he pushes, and I let out a sigh as I crawl over to him and straddle his lap.
“Forget it.” I lean forward to kiss him and he leans his back against the headboard before pulling away.
His hands land on my waist before they trail down to my thighs, his thumb trailing over the scars I marked myself with.
“I wanna know.”
I know, and I still can’t understand why.
His eyes meet mine and I force a smile. “I’m sitting on your lap shirtless and I can feel how hard you are, yet you want to talk about my depression? Are you a sadist?”
A smirk grows on his lips. “What gave it away?”
I roll my eyes at him and he turns more serious. Pulling in a deep breath, I decide to see where this goes. “It’s pretty often. It’s like spinning a wheel. Sometimes I’m sad enough to lay in bed all day, other days I need to drink or get high… sometimes this happens.” I look down at my thighs and he rubs my scars again so tenderly.
“Can you feel which one is coming or does it just hit?”
“I can feel it most times.” I nod to myself. “When I’m going to relapse, it’s like this pull to drink, this urging need for it, and my brain justifies it until I give in. Same with getting high. Sometimes it’s triggered, other times it’s not.” I shrug, and when my eyes meet his, he nods in understanding.
“The laying in bed with horrible dental hygiene is always a build-up. A few days of a weight in my chest, and when nothing brings me joy, I’m pushing through each day until I’m too tired mentally to do anything. Other times, it hits after I had a few great days.”
“And this?” He squeezes my thighs gently, but I don’t answer him. I keep my eyes on my scars, but I can’t bring myself to form the words or even make a joke about it.
Jackson wraps an arm around my waist before gently flipping us so I’m on my back. My eyes meet his and a smile touches my lips when he leans forward to kiss me, and it truly does make me feel better.
Before I can deepen the kiss, he pulls away, leaving a trail of kisses from my neck to my chest. His eyes meet mine as he leaves a feather of a kiss on each of my nipples. It’s so fast and soft, innocent even.
When he trails down my stomach I feel my excitement building because he’s still opposed to sex, but he skips right past my pants and kisses my thighs.
I feel my throat tightening as he kisses each and every scar I put on myself. He takes his time getting all of them and I blink the tears out of my eyes. He turns to my other leg and a smile touches my lips before my vision blurs.
“Stop,” I whisper, quickly brushing the single tear from my cheek before he can see.
“No.” He continues and so do the tears. “If shame is holding you back from telling me, let me tell you, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You’re stronger than your mind.”
I shake my head in response and he simply kisses the rest of my scars.
“It makes me feel better,” I confess. “I know how bad that sounds, I can recognize that, but when the thoughts are too loud and I can’t feel anything else, I can feel that . When it hurts too much mentally, when I’m afraid I’ll get high to distract myself, the cutting is a better distraction, and I would rather that than getting high. It’s easier sometimes.”
I watch him intensely, waiting for his face to change, for him to roll his eyes and tell me it’s dumb and to just stop or just talk to someone like I’ve been told in the past, but it never comes. He simply crawls back over me and buries his face in my neck, wrapping his arms around me.
I hold onto him tightly, wrapping my legs around him as I force the lump down my throat.
“Call me the next time you want to hurt yourself,” he mumbles into the crease of my neck and I let out a sigh, knowing that won’t be happening.
“Why?”
He pulls away and wipes the tear from my face before kissing my cheek. “Because I’ll give you something else to feel better about. I’ll give you something else to feel in general, a different kind of distraction.”
As I look into his eyes, I actually start to believe turning to him for help will work.
“Are you offering me sex? Because I might consider it.” I let out a chuckle and he rolls his eyes before kissing my nose.
“I mean it, Lisette.”
I want to make another joke to ease the heavy seriousness his words put in the air, but I can’t come up with one as I’m suddenly mesmerized by the way he looks at me.
“I don’t want to leave this room.” I bury my face in his neck, letting out a defeated sigh. “I have no problems in here.”
“You can come back whenever you want, but you made a promise to your brother and you need to talk to him.”
I let out a loud sigh and he tries to pull away to look at me, but I hold him closer, my face still in his neck.
“You need to stop treating him like the villain. I know it’s annoying you that he’s being overbearing, but he cares about you, more than I’ve ever seen a person care about anyone.”
I pull away, forcing myself to not get upset that he’s on his friend’s side. “That’s not why I’m mad, Jackson. It’s the fact that he doesn’t trust me.”
“Lisette, be for real for half a second,” he deadpans. “He found you half dead . You were barely breathing. You overdosed when you told him you were just busy . If he didn’t rush to you the second he did, you wouldn’t be here right now. Do you seriously think he’s going to get over that in a week and simply believe you when you say you’re fine? You’re not fine, baby. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he simply isn’t believing your lies and you’re mad about that.”
I look off to the side, my cheeks heating. “Okay, but—”
“There are no buts, Lisette.”
I keep my eyes off of him. I hate being called out when I’m wrong.
“I know you want him to trust you, but you’ve given him no reason to trust you, sweetheart. You have to see this from his perspective. I feel like you’re just pushing him away and acting like this because you feel guilty which is fine. That’s understandable, but stop ignoring his calls and treating Sire like he’s such an unbearable annoying brother for simply caring.”
I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying something I don’t mean because he’s right, and I just hate when I’m not.
“Fine,” I mumble. Removing my arms from around him, I trail my eyes back to him.
He gives me a knowing look. “Be mad all you want, but don’t give me attitude.”
I don’t reply, knowing it’ll be with an attitude.
Jackson looks like he’s about to say something, but a faint cry sounds behind the door.
We both go still before we sit up.
“She had a nightmare,” he says as we climb out of bed.
“How do you know?” I quickly pull my shirt on.
“Because I know that cry.” He pulls his pants on before rushing out of the room. I almost follow after him until I remember she isn’t supposed to see me here. While I understand why we’re not telling her about us, a huge part of me wants to skip to the part where I’m healed and get to be the one to run to her when she has a nightmare.
When Jackson appears at the door, his daughter is in his arms. Her head is on his shoulder as she falls back to sleep. “I’m going to go back to bed with her,” he whispers as he nods towards his room.
“Okay.” I muster up a smile. “I’m going to go soon,” I whisper back although Belle is fast asleep.
His brows furrow, but I explain before he can protest.
“I’m going to talk to Sire.”
A smile grows on his face as he closes the distance between us. Leaning down, he plants a kiss on my forehead. When he pulls away, I lean over to look at Belle. A smile touches my lips as I wipe her tears.
“Ugh, I love her so damn much.” I take a hold of her little hand and kiss it gently.
When I glance up at Jackson, he watches me with a smile as he soothes her back. I kiss his chest before pulling him in for a hug.
“Thank you,” I mumble quietly.
He kisses my forehead before wrapping an arm around me. “For what, sweetheart?”
I smile up at him. “For choosing me.” I steal a kiss before soothing Isabelle’s curls.
I’m not used to being chosen. Not by my parents, never by men, yet Jackson wants me—not just for sex, but to love and raise his daughter.
“I want all of my mornings to be like this, so I’m going to talk to my brother and get my shit together,” I promise him.
A proud smile touches his lips and I kiss his daughter one more time before they go back to sleep, and I collect my things.