Chapter 19 Leah
Leah
Jackson was still pale, his eyes darkened with the shadow of recent pain.
Between his fingers, he gripped half a Ritz cracker that he’d either forgotten about or couldn’t finish.
Leah sensed they could both use a subject change.
She nudged him gently with her knee. “So where did you and Niamh meet? I bet that wasn’t at the local homeless shelter. ”
“Her parents know my parents. Family friends.”
“Did she change from an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan and, one day, you properly saw her for the first time and realized you had feelings?”
He blinked his ridiculously unmanly eyelashes. “No, we sat next to each other at a fundraising event. When we found out we were due to go to a similar thing a couple of weeks later, it seemed sensible to go together.”
“Oh, wow, that’s—” Leah sat back a little. She wasn’t quite sure what it was.
“We’re not dating. We tried it briefly but it didn’t work out. We’re just friends now. No swords or wings.”
“There so rarely are.”
“It’s hard to get a sword through security these days.”
“And wings can play havoc with your basic evening wear.”
Jackson’s rusty chuckle sent Leah’s heart sliding toward her stomach, like a silk pillowcase down a hotel laundry chute.
He doesn’t have a girlfriend! The revelation tap-danced in her brain. Don’t make it weird. Do not make it weird. Pretend you don’t want to lick his neck.
She was lost when the corners of his eyes crinkled and the blue of his irises warmed from glacier ice to summer sky.
Even post-migraine, unshowered, and recently sick, he made her want to climb onto his lap and lay her head against his chest. If she were in his position, she’d look like an unsavory ghost at best, a hedge-monster at worst. And Leah guessed Jackson wouldn’t be seen for dust.
“You look exhausted again. I’m talking too much.”
“I don’t mind.” Jackson finished the cracker in his fingers and let his hand fall back to the covers.
“You are so much more amenable when I have you at a disadvantage,” she teased.
“Don’t get used to it.” There was no heat in his words.
“I could read to you.” Leah had no idea what made her offer and Jackson looked equally taken aback.
“I’d like that,” he said.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“How about I start the first one of Esther’s books? You can finish it when you feel better.”
Jackson’s face clouded immediately. “I don’t do a lot of reading.”
“Is it impossible to enjoy a book with dyslexia?”
“Not impossible. Just a bit overwhelming and frustrating. I don’t usually bother.” He kept his eyes on the bedcovers, so she couldn’t see his expression. “I’m more likely to read articles if I find something that interests me. It’s easier when I can see an end to it.”
Quietly amazed he’d answered her question, Leah asked another. “When did you find out you were dyslexic?”
“I didn’t get properly tested until I was fourteen. Way too late. Before that, everyone thought I was stupid.” He looked at her then, as grim and guarded as he’d ever been. “Not a lot changed afterwards, to be honest.”
Without thinking, Leah reached her hand out toward him. Jackson hesitated for so long she almost took it back but finally he slid his palm across hers and slowly curled his fingers around her own.
“I failed every test I took. I dreaded anyone—other kids or teachers—finding out I couldn’t read.
I have mild dyscalculia, too. I struggle with putting numbers in order, and memorizing multiplication tables was impossible.
Phone numbers still cause me problems. All in all, I found school exhausting. ”
“I didn’t enjoy it either,” she admitted.
“I tried so hard to make friends, but kids are brutal if they sense you’re desperate.
” Leah tried to imagine a surly and struggling ten-year-old Jackson and wished they’d been able to help each other.
“Recess and lunch were my worst nightmare. It was so much effort to put myself out there and try to fit in.”
Jackson’s lips curved in sympathy. “Mine was being called on to read aloud.” He shuddered. “If I ever thought it was going to happen, I’d punch someone first so I’d get sent out of class. I was constantly in trouble.”
“Coping mechanisms come in all shapes and sizes.” His smile felt like a victory and she gave his hand a squeeze. “Fortunately, our school days are behind us now and dyslexia doesn’t have to be your defining characteristic anymore.”
“Try telling that to my parents,” he rasped, turning his face from her. “And don’t forget I’m also a dick. I like to offer people two defining characteristics to choose between.”
Leah could tell he believed it, too. “You’re not really a dick. I am an exceptionally good judge of character and you’re easier to like than you might believe.”
Jackson gave a soft snort. “Well, you’re the only one who’s ever said it.”
She smiled. “I am gifted with great insight. It’s a blessing and a curse.”
His mouth twisted. So sexy, so appealing. Leah fought to lift her eyes from his lips. When she did, she found Jackson watching her.
Shit. She was still holding his hand.
“Right, if I’m reading then comfy clothes are required!”
She was off the bed and halfway out of the room before she’d finished speaking, trying to ignore how hard it had been to let go of his fingers.