Chapter 25 (Alyssa)
Shane nudges my hip as he leans in and whispers, “I thought you said he didn't want to talk to you?”
My eyes scan the bar before landing on Jackson. He's standing in the back playing a game of darts, by himself. Probably wishing it was my face that made up the board. I exhale sharply as I take in the way his gray henley shirt stretches across his broad chest and outlines the muscles of his arms. I force myself not to let my gaze drop to his faded blue jeans, which I have no doubt fit his ass and strong thighs perfectly.
My eyes betray me anyway...and dammit, I was right. They totally do.
“He doesn't.” I shrug. “He still hasn't said a word to me.”
And it's not like it's because the bar is so crowded or anything. We have a few customers, but there are plenty of seats at the bar.
Which he has yet to walk up to...because he still has yet to order a drink.
Which can only mean one thing. He's here to see me.
And he's been doing plenty of that because, over the last two hours, I've caught him stealing glances at me 32 different times now.
Make that 33.
Those gray eyes of his are burning into me yet again, heating my entire body with a single look.
The corners of his lips twitch. And that's when I know. He totally caught me checking him out just a second ago.
My mouth goes dry when his own eyes drop down, then slowly drag back up my body seductively, finally landing on my face. My brain fizzles. The 'this is your brain on drugs' warning, should also issue a 'this is your brain when Jackson Reid looks at you like that,' warning.
“He's been here four nights in a row,” Shane says. “I don't understand why he won't speak to you. Want me to kick him out?”
“Absolutely not,” I reply.
Jackson might not be talking to me, but the fact that he's been here night after night watching me tells me something.
He still has feelings for me. Feelings that some part of him can't ignore.
Either that, or he wants to see if Ford will show up here. Maybe, see if I was telling him the truth the other day.
I knew I hurt him...but even I wasn't aware of just how much I hurt him until his drunken outburst happened and our last conversation took place.
I wish he would just let me explain everything...I know it won't be easy for him to hear, but for some reason, he won't let that happen.
“You gonna be okay to close up by yourself?” Shane asks while casting a look in Jackson's direction.
I glance at the clock, I didn't realize that it was time for last call already. “I'll be fine.”
We announce last call and Shane and the last few stragglers leave.
With the exception of Jackson...because I'm certainly not kicking him out. Plus, he'll have no choice but to speak to me if we're the only two people here.
I walk to the door and proceed to lock up and put the alarm on.
I'm wondering why Jackson doesn't leave when he sees me doing this, but he doesn't seem to care that I'm closing the bar. I turn off the lights above the bar but make sure to keep the one on in the back where he is.
I walk over to him, my heart beating like a jackhammer the whole time.
“I like your hair,” he murmurs in my direction.
It's such a random statement, but I'll take it. I open my mouth to say thanks, but he gives me a hard look effectively silencing me.
His jaw ticks and he goes back to playing his game of darts. “I hate that you used me that night,” he says before throwing a dart at the board.
He hits a bullseye.
“I'm sorry.”
He pulls the dart out and takes a step back. “I hate that I watched the video.”
He throws another dart, bullseye.
“I know what Lou-Lou did, Jackson. I read your text messages after I found my purse that night. I know you were disgusted with yourself for watching it and I know you're sorry.”
I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “I've had a lot of time to think about it...and I never once asked or told you to not watch the video. You didn't do anything wrong.”
He shakes his head. “No. I was wrong. I told you I wouldn't watch it and I did.”
“I forgive you.”
“You shouldn't,” he says gruffly.
We stay silent after that. I decide to sit on top of the pool table and watch him throw more darts, hoping he'll continue talking to me.
“I hate that his hands were on you, touching your body. Touching what I thought was mine,” he finally says.
He throws the dart so hard I think the board's going to come off the wall.
“I didn't want his hands on me.”
He snorts. “It didn't look like it from where I was standing. And it certainly didn't sound like you didn't want his hands on you when you told him you loved him.” I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off. “Don't,” he warns. “Because I swear to god, if I hear you say his name again...I'll fucking lose it, Alyssa.”
I stay silent. I want to shout everything about my relationship with Ford at the top of my lungs, but I don't want him to walk away from me. Especially now that he's finally talking to me.
I desperately want him to give me another chance...because this time around, it won't be tarnished by my past or lies. I feel like I can actually let myself fall in love with Jackson. I can love him the way he deserves to be loved.
He throws another dart, and another, and another. Until he's firing them all at the board like a round of bullets. “I hate that I still want you. Especially when I should know better.”
My heart drops with those words.
Then he turns around and the look he gives me, makes the entire world stop. I hold my breath but he steals it from me when his lips land on mine.
The kiss is saturated with need, longing and desire. His tongue probes every inch of my mouth, his teeth crash against mine, and his hands touch my body like it's his possession.
My back hits the surface of the pool table and I moan when I feel Jackson move on top of me. I wrap my legs around his waist and grab onto his shoulders. “My apartment's upstairs,” I pant.
Jackson doesn't waste another second, he picks me up and we make our way up the staircase.
He slams me against the door to my apartment and his teeth nip at my neck while his hands dig into my ass. “Hope you have another t-shirt,” he growls.
I'm about to ask why, but I soon find out when he shreds the material right down the middle and buries himself between my breasts.
“I need these perfect fucking tits in my mouth,” he rasps as he yanks down the cups of my bra and pulls my nipple into his mouth. He lavishes it with his tongue, sucking on it like it's his favorite thing in the entire world.
I whimper when he pauses. But then he moves on to my other breast and pays it the same attention. Bolts of pleasure jolt me when he reaches down and pops open the button on my pants.
He’s sliding them down when he stops abruptly and bangs on the wall beside my head. “I can't.”
“Can't what?” I ask, still in my delirious fog. He puts me down. “I can't do this to you.”
I don't understand how one second he's tearing my clothes off and the next he's walking away. He quickly backs up. “I need to leave.”
“Why? I thought...I thought that we were—” I pause because I realize that maybe I misconstrued the situation entirely and this wasn't what I hoped it was after all.
“I thought we were trying again,” I say.
He gives me the coldest look I've ever seen. “Well, you thought wrong. I'll stay out of your life for good from now on. I promise.”
What the hell is going on with him? None of this makes any sense.
He heads for the exit stairs but I stop him. “No. I don't want you out of my life. I want you, Jackson. Talk to me, don't run away.”
“Yeah, because you know all about that. Don't you?” he scoffs.
I want to punch him for being so callous right now. With the exception of his drunken episode. He's never been this cruel to me without reason. “Yeah I do. So, take it from me when I tell you that it will only make things worse.”
He begins walking down the stairs and I'm right behind him. “I know you. Something is—” I start to say before he cuts me off.
“You don't know me, Alyssa. Trust me.”
And with those words he walks away.