Chapter 25 #2
“Keep doing that,” I pleaded as I gripped onto his shoulder.
I stuck my other hand in his boxers, moving my hand with the rock of his hips.
I could faintly hear the music from downstairs; someone was playing “I Tried” by Balancing the Different, and a group of people were singing along.
God, why were they listening to something so depressing?
It sounded like something Jackson would listen to, and the thought of Jackson made me pick up my pace on the body in front of me.
I could tell he was close by the way he matched my rhythm, and I let him finish in my hand as I succumbed to the feeling of his fingers on me. I grabbed his wrist while I jerked my hips against his hand.
When we both stilled, Scott leaned away from me. “Shit, Addie,” he whispered as he straightened.
I fixed my hair with my clean hand and pulled up my pants clumsily as he re-clasped his belt. He tried to give me another kiss but I turned my head so it was on my cheek. I couldn’t pretend he was Jackson anymore once we stepped out of the dark.
We slid out of the room together, and I walked directly into Jackson’s chest in the hall. We stepped back from each other, both staring at the other for a moment. Then his eyes moved down to my neck, his nostrils flaring.
Scott hovered behind me for a moment, then darted down the stairs. I’ll give him credit, he didn’t try to take advantage of me when he could have, and he was smart enough to realize that this was the man whose name I had called him by. I was the piece of shit in this equation.
“You have a hickey on your neck,” Jackson said with narrowed eyes.
I placed my hand over the spot Scott had been sucking. A chill ran through me; all I’d seen was Jackson’s face when he was doing it.
My mind was still a mess, and for some reason, I blurted out, “I need to go wash my hands.” I held out the hand that had been touching Scott.
Jackson looked down, eyes widening when he saw the semen. He took a step back like I had slapped him, bumping into the wall behind him. He didn’t look mad anymore—he looked absolutely destroyed.
I turned for the bathroom, acting unaffected by our interaction.
As soon as I closed the bathroom door, I dropped to my knees and couldn’t hold back from puking everywhere.
***
I woke up to something cold under my cheek, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself on the floor of a bathroom.
Jackson was sitting on the toilet, his dress shirt fully unbuttoned.
I could see a sliver of the planes of his chest, and he was watching me with sad eyes.
I groaned, closing my eyes to hide from the light . . . and the way he was looking at me.
“Where am I?” I asked as I put a hand to my head. It felt like someone was drilling into the side of my skull. My mouth was dry, and I could taste the remnants of the blunt I smoked earlier.
“You’re fucked up, Addison,” Jackson said with malice.
I covered my face. “Don’t use my full name right now. Seriously, where are we?”
“We’re at my house.”
I peered above my fingers, eyes traveling around the space. We were in the upstairs bathroom of his parents’ house, and I was laying on the cold, hard tile.
He handed me a water bottle, and I held it against my cheek. The condensation was soothing against my flushed skin.
“Where’s Sophie?” I asked. How the fuck did we even get here? I couldn’t remember leaving Paul’s party. Where was Scott?
“At home, sleeping. Pissed I made her leave the party to take you home.”
I rubbed my head again before sitting up. “What time is it?”
“Five am.”
“Oh, shit. How long have I been asleep?” I asked.
“A few hours. You’ve been puking off and on. I found you in the bathroom at Paul’s, and I seriously thought you were dead.” Jackson’s voice cracked then, and he quickly cleared his throat. “I had to carry you out.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. Jackson leaned down to help me stand up, and I felt like I was going to puke or pass out again. I gripped his arm, steadying myself.
I closed my eyes as I inhaled and exhaled, praying I could prevent myself from throwing up again.
When I opened my eyes, Jackson was staring at me, waiting to see what was about to happen. “You okay to walk?”
“Yeah,” I squeaked out.
He slowly guided me to Julie’s old bedroom, helping me get under the covers.
He faced away from me, one hand hovering by the bedside lamp.
“It really hurt to see you like that tonight,” he said softly.
“I won’t drink like that again. I’m sorry you had to take care of me.”
“It’s not that—that’s what friends do. They protect each other.” Jackson was such an asshole sometimes, but I knew he cared about me above all else. And he had always protected me.
I stared at his back, watching as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
He was silent for another moment, then clicked off the light. “What I meant was, it hurt to see you with someone else.” He hovered there in the dark, and I wondered if he wanted me to say something.
My heart rate quickened, and I was sure I was about to puke again. I wanted to reach for him, to tell him the stuff I did with Scott didn’t mean anything, that I called him Jackson, that I had to pretend Scott was Jackson to even enjoy it.
Before I could gain the courage, he walked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. It didn’t matter anyways, because he had Sophie. And it wasn’t fair for him to say things like that to me. He just continued to hurt me.