Chapter Seventeen
Jackson
"Look at you, moving on," Jenn whispers.
We're standing in the hallway of Bennet and Blaire's place, where I am currently being held hostage. Jenn has both my hands pressed flat against the sides of her belly, waiting for the little one to kick, and she absolutely has the patience to keep me here until it happens.
I've been in this house for approximately three minutes, long enough to introduce Rian to everyone, accept one glass of wine I haven't sipped, and get yanked into a hallway by a pregnant woman with the grip strength of a dockworker.
I shift on my feet, running the math on two separate problems: how long is appropriate to stand in a hallway holding a pregnant woman's stomach, and what the odds are that Joe walks in on exactly this and forms very clear intentions about my continued health.
"She's so pretty. And smoking hot." Her bottom lip turns downward mid-praise. "I used to be hot."
"You're still a smoke show, Jenn."
"I've gained twenty-three pounds, I waddle, and I don't have a waist anymore." The tears start immediately.
Sweet suffering fuck.
"The sexual positions have gotten so limited, Jackson. Yes, the orgasms are unfuckingreal, but I miss my limber legs. I used to do this one thing where I—"
"Nope."
I retrieve my hands and walk away mid-sentence.
"Coward!"
"Hormonegeddon!" I call back over my shoulder, and nearly collide with Joe rounding the corner.
The man looks like he's seen hell and left something behind there.
"Did she corner you?" He grabs my shoulders, then looks past me toward the hallway. "Where is she?"
Is he...
Is he hiding in front of me?
He is.
This six-foot man is using my body as cover from his pregnant fiancée.
"She was in the hallway, man. Unhinged. Fucking unhinged." I laugh and clap him on the shoulder. "Good luck."
"Listen. Jackson. Listen to me." He drops his voice like we're exchanging state secrets. "Don't do it. Don't get a woman pregnant. I thought it would be sweet and sexy. Cute little midnight pickle runs." His grip tightens. "She does things, Jackson. Horrible, unspeakable things to my body."
"Joseph!" Jenn's voice rings out from around the corner.
His eyes blow wide. It might as well be a scene out of Jurassic Park.
The glass of water trembling. The predator's call in the distance.
I'm doing my level best not to laugh because I genuinely can't tell whether he's being theatrically dramatic or this poor bastard needs a restraining order against his pregnant fiancée.
Probably both.
Knowing these two, definitely both.
I leave him to his fate and make my way back toward the sofa where Rian and Blaire are talking. My guard goes up before I can stop it, braced for whatever Rian's jealousy might be doing to one of my best friends while I've been gone.
But they're fine.
Better than fine, actually.
Blaire throws her head back and laughs at whatever Rian just said, and Rian reaches over and rests a hand on her knee while she's laughing with her. I stand there watching them for a second, feeling vaguely stupid for expecting a problem.
"She's a keeper, man."
Bennet comes up beside me, and we stay there a minute just watching them laugh.
Our girls.
My girl.
Fuck, I need to get used to that. If I'm doing this with Rian, actually doing it now, I can't keep tripping over the language every time it gets too close to meaning something.
She's my girl.
Period.
"Yeah, man. She's great."
"But you don't have the look, Jackson."
I turn toward him. "What look?"
"The way you used to look at my sister."
My head snaps back, and there it is on his face. Not judgment. Worse.
He fucking feels sorry for me.
We haven't spoken about Rose since he found me outside her apartment. Not really. We did what men do when neither one wants to touch the live wire between them. Went back to work. Had drinks. Talked shit. Became brothers again and left the whole subject sitting exactly where it fell.
"That's over. It was a long time ago. I'm sorry again for—"
He puts a hand on my shoulder and cuts me off.
"You don't have to keep apologizing to me.
I'm past that." He takes a drink of his beer before continuing.
"It took me a minute, Jackson. It did. I don't like being kept in the dark, and I'm not going to pretend I loved how I found out.
But I've had a lot of time to think about it since then.
All those years, all the shit I somehow didn't see because I wasn't looking for it. "
I look away.
He dips his head, trying to catch my eyes again. "You've been in love with Rose since the day you met her, haven't you?"
I don't answer. What the fuck would be the point?
Yes, Bennet. Loved your sister for ten years. Still love her. Probably going to love her while standing at an altar with somebody else if I can't get my shit together before then.
I'd rather swallow the beer bottle.
"I'll take that as a yes." His voice drops, and he glances toward the sofa before looking back at me. "So what the fuck are you doing, man?"
My jaw tightens.
"She's gone, Ben. She told me not to wait and Rian is here. Right fucking here, and she wants to be with me.”
He nods slowly. "I know. And as much of a keeper as she seems to be, you don't look at her the way you looked at Rose."
"I won’t ever look at anyone like I looked at her. But I have to try to move on."
He doesn’t say anything after that.
Because that's the part nobody seems to understand.
I'm not waiting around for lightning to hit twice.
Maybe what I had with Rose isn't the standard.
Maybe it was the exception, ten years of wanting and history and bad timing packed into one woman until nothing else could possibly compete with it.
Rian is here. She wants me. I care about her.
I'm trying to build something real with her instead of spending another year doing yoga with a fucking ghost.
Bennet studies me for a long moment. "Do you love her?"
Fuck him.
I look back toward the sofa. Rian is smiling at Blaire, relaxed in a way I don't get to see often, and I want the answer to come easily.
It doesn't.
"I'm trying to. Begging myself to, if I’m being honest."
His face falls.
"Don't fucking look at me like that."
"I'm not looking at you any kind of way."
"You're looking at me like a goddamn ASPCA commercial."
That almost gets him. His mouth twitches before he catches it.
Then he steps closer and lowers his voice again. "I'm not telling you what to do. I'm definitely not telling you to wait for my sister. That's between you and her, and I've learned enough to stay the fuck out of that part."
"Good."
"But I know you." He grips the back of my neck. "And if you're going to marry Rian, just be sure. Be certain. Think about everything before you go through with it, and I mean everything, Jackson. That's all I'm asking."
Then he pulls me into a hug and pounds my back hard enough to double as CPR. I hug him back because I know what he's actually saying. Don't fuck up another life trying to fix your own.
When he releases me, the conversation goes with it. He raises his beer, rearranges his face for company and heads toward the kitchen.
Asshole.
I stand there another second before looking back at Rian.
She's my girl.
I said it.
Now I need to figure out why it still feels like I'm practicing.