13. Jackson #2
I rub the back of my neck, feeling somewhat uncomfortable talking about this, but at least she is talking to me.
“About a year. I was eight. I caught the flu at school, and it turned into something crazy. I had pneumonia and bronchitis on and off nearly that whole time.” I shake my head, remembering the sad looks on Mama and my brother’s faces.
“Mama was sure I was going to die. I was skin and bones and couldn’t breathe on my own.
It was terrible. Even when I started to get better, I was still so weak, both physically and immune-wise.
Plus, my parents and I were terrified to let me near other people because we feared one cold would send me back to the hospital. ”
At some point during my story, Ozzy moved to the chair next to mine. “Well, look at you now. You’re all muscles, chest hair, and beard.” She gives me a reassuring smile.
I laugh in surprise. “I don’t know what my chest hair and beard have to do with anything.”
“Yeah, not my best one.” She sighs and rests her head back on the chair. “I’m just tired. I’ll think of something more clever tomorrow.”
“Oh, so you’re planning to talk to me tomorrow?” I ask, and she turns her head just enough to peek at me with one of those smirks that could unmake a man.
“Yes.”
And fuck me, that one word. It hits like a punch to the chest. It means more than it should. I don’t even have time to process it before she slips her hand into mine and threads our fingers together like it’s always been this easy.
“You’re the first person or thing that’s ever kept me grounded,” she whispers, eyes on our joined hands.
“Even before I was hurt, I was a runner; a rolling stone and all that. My dad was never in the picture, and my mom…” She lets out a dry laugh.
“Well, she’s where I learned it from.” Her smile is sad, and her eyes are distant.
“I rarely saw her unless it was time to move or meet her new boyfriend. My point is, I’ve never stayed anywhere long; never wanted to be close to anyone.
Hell, Indy is the only friend I have, and I firmly believe it’s because our friendship is almost entirely done over text and phone calls. ”
She takes a breath while placing her other hand on top of where our hands are still joined and begins running her fingers over my calloused knuckles.
Fuck, it feels nice. I didn’t realize I had been missing this.
Not that I ever really had… whatever this is.
I sit still, letting her continue, even though every nerve ending in my body is screaming to touch her back.
To move closer. To tell her she never has to run again.
But I don’t. Because this… this is her moment.
And I’d rather burn than ruin it.
“I don’t know,” she continues, her voice cracking just a little. “This is the first time I’ve come back to something. To the ranch. To you. And I wasn’t going to. I had every intention of leaving. I was ready to run again… but I’m just so fucking tired of always being scared.”
The words gut me.
I want to say something. Anything. But when I open my mouth, all I can manage is, “Do I…” Clearing my throat, I rephrase the question. “Did I make you feel unsafe? Last night?”
Her head jerks up, eyes wide. “Oh, God. No. That’s the problem.”
I blink at her. “You’re gonna have to spell this one out for me, baby.”
Ozzy’s nose wrinkles when she smiles, and I have to look away. That smile… fucking hell, there ain’t a thing on this earth I wouldn’t give to her if she smiled at me like that again.
“I like it when you call me baby.” she admits, a light blush creeping up her cheeks.
Well. That does things to a man.
Keep smiling at me like that, and I’ll call you baby until the day I die.
Woah. That was a bit much there. Say something like that to her, and she’ll definitely rethink that whole not running thing.
“I liked kissing you,” she continues, and I swear my pulse jumps so fast I lose track of the beat.
What should I say? Thanks? Me too? You ain’t seen nothing yet?
“Funny way of showing it,” I mutter before I can stop myself.
And just like that, the spell breaks. Perfect, Jackson, fucking perfect. And there goes the hand-holding. Goddamn it. She stands, and I feel the loss of her touch like a blow.
“I know. I’m sorry. That was a real dick move. I just… Jackson, I’m damaged. I live in a constant state of panic. I haven’t even told my therapist everything, for fear of upsetting her.”
She gestures wildly, like she’s trying to exorcise the words from her chest. “But I let you touch me. I let you hold me. I let myself want you. And it terrifies me. Because for the first time in forever, I wasn’t afraid.
I wanted to be close. And giving someone that kind of power over me…
it’s more terrifying than anything I’ve ever survived. ”
I stand slowly, like if I move too fast, she’ll vanish again.
“This is weird for me too,” I admit. “I’ve never had to be so careful. Never had to think about every move. I’m terrified of crossing a line I don’t see. But I want you to know… I’m not going anywhere. You tell me the pace, Tink, and I’ll match it.”
She looks at me, and something in her eyes softens. Like a storm has passed, and all that’s left is the wreckage and the raw, aching hope that something good might grow out of it.
“I don’t know what this is,” she says. “But I want to figure it out.”
“So do I.”
And that feels like enough for now.
“Did you see my nurse?” Theo waggles her eyebrows.
I run my hand over my face.“You have been out of recovery for fifteen minutes. Keep it in your pants.”
Theo scoffs, her eyes unfocused and heavy-lidded.“Shit, I ain’t about that life. I’ll have her number before the end of today.”
Ozzy snorts behind me. “She and Carter are the same fucking person.”
I glance over my shoulder, watching her check the monitors with a practiced kind of care. Focused. Gentle. And I don’t know what it is, but seeing her with Theo like this—worry etched into her brow, lips drawn tight with focus—does something to me. She gives a shit. About my family. About us.
“She talks a big talk, but Theo’s not really into the casual stuff,” I explain as we leave the room. “Never has been. She’s more like me than she lets on.”
“Oh yeah?” Ozzy raises a skeptical brow. “And what’s that mean, exactly?”
“I don’t go in for one night stands. The whole forced small talk, awkward next morning thing… nah. Carter’s the hookup guy, not me.”
“So you, Jensen and Theo are out here wife-hunting while Carter is slinging dick and chasing chaos?”
I snort. “I ain’t looking for shit. I’m getting old and don’t have the time for nonsense.”
“ Getting old? Aren’t you like… fifty-something?”
I turn and stare at her amused expression.“I oughta leave your little ass here to walk back,” I mutter before opening the passenger door to the truck. “I’m forty, thank you very much.”
She grins, sticking her tongue out at me, and that goddamn ball glints in the sun. I can’t stop staring at it. Can’t stop thinking about how it felt when her tongue was in my mouth.
“Did that… hurt?” I ask before I can stop myself.
She smirks, her eyes wicked. “Not too bad. The piercer was fast. Now, my left tit?” She lets out a breath, hand fluttering toward her chest. “I think I died for a second.” I want to laugh, like I know she’s being funny, outgoing, and friendly, but I can’t.
I can’t because she’s reminded me of those fantastic tits that I have no business thinking about having piercings through the nipples.
My blood heats instantly, rushing south like a fucking traitor. My mouth goes dry.
Tits. Piercings. Her tongue.
“You okay?” she asks, head cocked, concern laced in the edges of her voice.
I flinch. “Yeah. Yeah, I just… I’ll go now. To the… driver’s side. Start the truck.”
“Go where?” She laughs, and fucking hell, what am I saying?
“Go to the driver’s side and start the truck,” is my desperate attempt at a save as I stumble over my stupid big ass feet as I get into the truck. Real smooth, Rowe.
I climb into the truck and grip the steering wheel like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded. Now that I am on my side of the bench seat and I have to focus on driving, I feel calmer.
At least, until Ozzy opens that fucking mouth again.
“Are you attracted to me?”
I nearly forget how to breathe as I slam on the brake. “What?! No?” I breathe out and wince. It sounds more like a weak, desperate question than a definitive answer.
I watch something flash through Ozzy’s eyes, but before I can pinpoint what it is, that fucking wall of hers is back up. “Might wanna start driving, Rowe,” she says, eyes locked on the windshield.
A horn honks behind us. I curse under my breath and press the gas, the silence between us pressing in like a weighted blanket.
After a while, I break the silence. “Why’d you ask me that?”
“Curiosity. Now I know.”
“You know what?” I ask, terrified that she’s about to out me.
“That me kissing you was wrong. I didn’t get your consent to do that, and I apologize.”
I glance over at her. She looks dejected. Her shoulders are hunched over, and her gaze is on her hands in her lap. I turn and park in the grocery store’s parking lot. Ozzy looks up from her lap and then whips her head to look at me. I turn to look at her and take a breath.
“Don’t apologize. And don’t look like that,” I plead, pointing at her face.
“Like what?”
“Like I rejected you or some shit.”
She opens her mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to play it off, but I reach up, already moving before I think. Her hair’s slipped from her bun—one piece, curling down the side of her face like it was made to be touched.
My hand pauses midair, but before I can pull back, she catches it.
“Do it,” she says breathlessly. Like the words surprised even her.
“Do what?” My voice is low, careful. My whole body is a live wire. “Baby, you’re gonna have to be so fucking specific with what you want from me.”
Ozzy slides closer to me as she bites her lip nervously. “You were about to move my hair, weren’t you?
“Yeah,” I whisper, heart pounding in my chest.
She slides closer still, her thigh brushing mine, and fuck—it burns through denim like a brand.
“Do it. I want you to touch me,” she insists, voice shaking. “Just… touch me.”
“I… o-okay.” I reach my hand up and watch as she fights off a flinch when my hand reaches her face.
I run my finger over her temple, and she takes a sharp breath.
I tuck the hair behind her ear and go to move my hand when she catches my wrist and holds me still.
It’s my turn to inhale sharply as she rests her cheek on my palm and closes her eyes.
“Ozzy…”
“I’m okay,” she whispers, but it sounds like a confession. Her eyes flutter closed. “Oh my god, you’re touching me.”
“You’re doing amazing, Tink.”
She lets out a shaky breath. “Does this bother you?” she asks, refusing to let my hand go, which is fine. She can have it.
“What? No.” I shake my head, rough and honest. “Why would it?”
“Because… you said you weren’t attracted to me.”
I groan, head falling back against the seat. “Jesus, you know that wasn't the truth. Obviously, I find you attractive. Anyone would.”
“Then why deny it?”
“Because if I admit how bad I want you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself.”
The air between us shifts, goes thick. Her breath hitches. My dick twitches. I’m so painfully hard it’s almost laughable. Almost.
Ozzy leans forward, eyes searching mine. “You’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to touch me… like this. Without being scared.”
My chest clenches. “You’re safe with me, Ozzy.” I promise her. “Always.”
She nods, slowly releasing my hand, and it feels like I’m losing something precious. But then she laces her fingers through mine again—on her terms—and that… that means more than anything.
We sit in silence for a beat. Her hand in mine. Our shoulders brushing. And it feels like the beginning of something I’ve been waiting my whole damn life for.
Something worth breaking rules for.
Something worth staying for.