Chapter Ten #2
‘He was only trying to get into your pants,’ she muttered under her breath, and for a second it looked as though she was going to say something else but changed her mind.
‘Well, while you were running around not banging my brother, I was going through a bunch of family records and ancestry stuff,’ she said. ‘And I’m pretty sure I found the last Powell witch.’
My breath caught in my throat. Lydia in a white gown, begging me to end her life, the dagger in my hand. I fought to keep my face neutral.
‘Really?’
‘Really. I have a few more things I want to check out, but can we get together and look at it?’
‘Sure,’ I managed to say, the smell of the food in my room suddenly making me nauseous.
‘Awesome.’
She shoved everything down into the bottom of her tote bag and flashed me a smile. ‘Our mom should be arriving soon. She’ll probably want to catch up with me and Jackson, get dinner or something. You should come over tomorrow morning and meet her, we can talk after.’
I nodded, following her out of my room and down the stairs, the foyer floor cool under my injured feet, my bare legs prickling. The silk walls shifted from a pale pink to a soft coral and the front door opened without waiting for Lydia to reach for the handle.
‘I’m glad you’re both OK.’
She hugged me tight, the throbbing pulse in her neck pressed against mine, and the sight of her throat torn open, blood gushing, assaulted me once again.
‘And I’m so glad you didn’t bang Jackson.’
‘Said the classiest girl who ever lived.’
Her brother leaned against the staircase, his forehead creased with disapproval.
Lydia replied with a sweet smile and a middle finger held aloft.
‘See you back at the house,’ she called as she skipped out the front door. ‘No way I’m walking down the street with you in that shirt.’
The door closed itself and I turned back to him, inviting Jackson into the parlour with a tilt of my head. In my too tight T-shirt, six-pack peeking out the bottom, fabric straining over his biceps and triceps, he looked just as comfortable as he had in a tux.
‘She’s only kidding,’ I said, settling against the back of the sofa with my arms folded. ‘She doesn’t mean anything by it.’
He cupped the back of his neck and gave me a cockeyed grin.
‘Yeah, she does. She loves you, Em, she doesn’t want to share. Trust me, I get it.’
I made myself laugh, though it didn’t feel like an especially funny statement.
‘Well, she’ll just have to learn,’ I said. ‘You’re allowed to love more than one person.’
‘I’m glad we agree on that.’
A light breeze rustled the leaves of the tree painted on the wall behind him and a flock of tiny bluebirds alighted on its tallest branch, eyeing us with interest, but if Jackson noticed, I couldn’t tell.
‘Because, you know, it’s important to have friends,’ he said, bringing his arm across his chest to squeeze a tense muscle in his shoulder.
‘You wouldn’t limit yourself to one friend, right?
Especially not at our age, especially not when you’ve just moved here and you haven’t even had a chance to meet everyone yet.
How else would you know you’ve made the right friends? ’
The smooth, confident Jackson was gone and he was babbling again, the same as when he stopped by to ask me to the dance. He was anxious and we could all feel it, me, the birds and the trees.
‘Jeez, Ashley’s coffee is strong enough to send a man to the moon.’ He turned his eyes up to the ceiling. ‘What I’m trying to say is, I heard what Lyds said.’
‘About what?’
‘About me,’ he replied. ‘And you.’
‘And she isn’t entirely wrong.’
Even the wisdom and knowledge of two hundred years of witches could not have prepared me for this conversation.
‘Last night was the most fun I’ve had in forever,’ Jackson said, shaking his head as though he’d tried to convince himself otherwise. ‘At least it was until a werewolf tried to rip out my guts, but honestly, it still wasn’t the worse night of my life.’
‘I know.’ I laughed nervously. ‘Alison Worthy, eighth grade Valentine’s dance.’
He threw up his hands as though I’d proved his point. I’d never noticed how huge they were before, easily big enough to palm a basketball. No wonder he was so good at it.
‘See?’ he said. ‘You listen, you get me. I’ve never felt more myself with anyone, ever.’
‘Yes, because I’m your friend.’
He took a step towards me and I snatched in a breath. Somehow I was more tense standing in front of Jackson Powell in my own home than I was facing off against a wolf three times my size.
‘It’s not just the way you make me feel about myself, Em, it’s everything about you.’
Not once did he break eye contact. It was brutal, like someone holding my hand to a flame and refusing to let me pull it away.
‘You’re smart, you’re genuine, you make me laugh.
Do you have any idea how damn funny you are?
And yes, you’re a witch, which I happen to think is very cool, but that’s only one part of this incredible person standing in front of me.
Anyone alive would be lucky, so damned lucky, to get to stand beside you and say, “That’s my girl. ”’
The flock of bluebirds twittered excitedly among themselves, terrible gossips that they were.
‘Thank you?’ I said when he stopped talking.
Thank you? Really? I cringed, the words echoing through my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut, wondering if there was a way to take them back.
‘And you’re the most beautiful girl I ever saw in my life.’
Jackson’s voice was so husky and low it made me shiver. I opened my eyes to see he was even closer now. ‘I could’ve lost my life last night. Worse still, I could’ve lost you. If I walked out this door today without telling you the truth, I’d be a coward.’
The caps of his shiny leather dress shoes were almost touching my toes and I gripped the back of the sofa behind me, no words to speak, nothing to add. Not that it was time for me to talk. Jackson wasn’t finished.
‘Wyn and I got to know each other pretty well when I drove him back to Asheville. He’s a good guy, I guess, as far as werewolves go, and I’m not the kind of person who goes around trying to steal someone else’s girl—’
‘No, you’re not,’ I said, doing my best not to look directly into his soulful brown eyes. Instead I studied the stubble on his chin, the healed-over mark of an old piercing in his left earlobe, silver ring on the middle finger of his right hand.
‘But Wyn’s not here and I am.’
The words settled on the ground around us like freshly fallen snow in the middle of July, so unexpected they stole my breath away.
‘I’m not asking you to make a choice,’ Jackson said, a hint of self-restraint tightening throat.
‘Only to hear me out. I am your friend, Emily, I always will be. Whatever you need from me, it’s yours, but after what happened last night, I don’t want to waste time wondering what if, so just think about it. You and me.’
It sang to me again, that sweet life I might’ve lived if I’d never left Savannah. But it was like he said, no point in wondering what if.
‘Jackson, you are so special to me,’ I said eventually, forcing myself to meet his eyes. ‘Beyond special. But I love Wyn and that isn’t going to change.’
He leaned in towards me and gripped the sofa, one hand on either side of my hips.
‘I don’t need you to stop loving Wyn. I just need you to love me more.’
The kiss he pressed to my cheek was so soft, I barely felt it. Lighter than the beat of a butterfly’s wings, there one heartbeat and gone the next. But when he pulled away, I was breathless. The look on his face was determined. He had hope.
He turned to leave, almost out the door when I remembered how to use my voice.
‘Jackson,’ I called and he stopped in his tracks.
‘When Wyn messages you back, will you please let me know right away?’
His shoulders sagged but he held his head high.
‘Will do,’ he replied.
‘Thank you.’
Our eyes locked and I saw a reflection of myself in him.
Emily James Bell, Jackson’s version. She was confident, proud and capable.
An Emily who laughed more easily and lived a life not quite so full of worry and angst. She looked happy and I realized I was envious of her.
She was loved and she knew it. I wiped away a tear that came out of nowhere, half of me desperate for him to leave, half of me wondering what might happen if he stayed.
‘I don’t mind waiting,’ he said with a wistful smile. ‘I’ve been waiting on you since before you knew I existed.’
And then he was gone.