24. Jackson
JACKSON
I shouldn’t care what Stone says.
His answer as to his whereabouts shouldn’t bug me in the least.
But tell that to my body, tight with tension, as I wait for my client— dammit, he’s a client, that is all —to tell me where he needs me to take him.
Stone screws up the corner of his lips, drags both hands through his shaggy hair, and blows out a long stream of air.
“Let’s see. Where do I want to go? On the one hand, I could go to Rapture, because I hear that club is killer,” he says, then stares at the ceiling, lost in thought. “Or I could go to a diner. Get a burger and fries.”
“You don’t eat that. You’re a health guru. You’re all kale salad and carrots, twenty-four/seven.”
A knowing grin curls his lips. “Ah, you’re paying attention.”
“I always pay attention. That’s what I do.”
He shifts his neck back and forth, stretching it. “Maybe I need a massage to work out the kinks.”
I scoff. “Yeah, work out your kinks. That’s what you did tonight.”
Stone lifts one brow, parting his lips like he’s about to say something. But then he seems to think better of it, saying instead, “I tapped out. And now I’m ready to get acquainted with the thousand-thread-count sheets and my big-ass bed overlooking the Strip.”
“Fair enough,” I say, and the tension in my body releases.
Somewhat.
Once we’re out of Speakeasy, I escort him through the casino, making quick work of the short route to the elevators that’ll take him to his suite. A few fans spot him along the way, shouting their hellos, and he waves, but mostly we avoid the spotlight.
I half expect him to change his mind.
To say he wants to return to Ivy and Callum.
Even when he reaches his room, I wait for that change of heart, since he’s a capricious son of a bitch, but those words never come.
He’s been uncharacteristically quiet the entire way.
At the door, he turns, a curious look in his eyes. “Why did you ask it like that? If I was going back to my private party ?”
“Because that’s where you were.” I try to say it like it’s no big deal.
His eyes call bullshit. “Let me ask again, Jackson. Why did you ask it the way you did? Like it bothered you?” There’s a challenge in his voice, but a vulnerability in his eyes as he asks the question, like he’s letting me see a part of him that others don’t see.
Still, I don’t want to let on. Don’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Just asking.”
Stone shakes his head, his jaw tight. “I don’t think so. I don’t think you were just asking. I think it bothered you.”
He licks his lips, looking at me like the answer is important.
More important than anything else.
Maybe I do want him to know why it bothered me. Maybe I do want to give him the satisfaction of knowing.
In a heartbeat, I shove him against the door, holding him in place with my arm banded across his pecs, stepping into his space.
His breath hitches, and I take that as my cue to push my forearm even tighter against his chest. No one else is around, but still, my words are only for him.
So, in a low voice, I tell him exactly why it bothered me.
“Because you didn’t need a different bodyguard for your fantasies. ”
There. I said it.
He blinks, parting his lips. Shock crosses his eyes. He’s speechless for several long seconds. “You’re . . .?”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. I know what he’s asking.
“Yes.”
His jaw stays unhinged. “I had no idea . . .”
My face remains expressionless. “I think we’ve established that you don’t know anything about me. Maybe now you’ll ask.”
He licks his lips. “Are you out?”
I nod. “I am.”
“How did I not know?”
I stare hard at him. “Because this is work. And because, like I said, you never asked.”
He swallows roughly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “So, you were bothered because you think I touched him? Callum?”
“I don’t know what you did in there.”
His answer comes out swiftly, like he needs me to know. “I didn’t touch him. He didn’t touch me. I was there for her.”
This thrills me more than it should, but this is also where I can’t bend. I say nothing, and Stone stares at my arm still pinning him in place, like he doesn’t want me to let go of him.
Fine by me. I wouldn’t mind pinning him down.
“It was all about her,” he explains, his tone a little desperate. “I was helping out a friend.”
“You were helping ?” I parrot.
He sneers. “Yeah, asshole,” he says, pushing my arm off him with some force. I take a step back. Maybe I’ve gone too far.
“Sorry,” I say, meaning it.
But my apology isn’t enough for Stone. He shoves a hand against my shoulder.
I don’t move. Still, he continues, “I was helping him. He needed a kick in the pants to see that he was in love with her, and guess what? It worked. He’s with her now.
He’s my best friend in the whole damn world, and some men need to shake things up to see what’s in front of them. ”
“And is that what you did for them in the suite? Shake things up ?”
Stone’s green eyes are on fire. And I’ve never seen him this worked up. “Yes, that’s what I did when I touched her, and only her .” He grabs his skull, staring at me like a crazy man. “What the hell? Why are you getting in my head like this? Get out of my head, man.”
I scoff. Shake my head, trying desperately to clear it.
I need to get my shit together. I can’t step over the line with Stone.
Business is business, and pleasure is pleasure, and you should never mix the two.
But I’m still pent-up from standing guard over his private party.
And annoyed as hell too that I’m so damn glad he didn’t touch his friend.
I move closer to Stone, cataloging the way he responds when I’m inches from his body. I’m sure he wants to get closer to me.
I take my time before I leave him with a parting thought. “Your head isn’t where I’d most like to be, Stone.”
I back off, but not before my eyes roam up and down his body, making my meaning clear.
And making my intentions clear too, when I walk away.
Being with Stone would be playing with fire for far too many reasons.