I just care about him.
A lot.
A scary lot.
“It’s still California,” I retort, becoming increasingly distracted by the patterns he’s tracing against the top of my chest. My dick, already half-chubbed, is fully awake now, draining my blood supply from my brain, my concerns about building codes diminishing by the second.
“Does this mean you’re not quitting?” I ask.
“It does…if I still have a job?”
“You do.” I seize his wrist. “On one condition.”
His eyes meet mine. “What?”
I hold his gaze, a gentle ache pulsing through me as the seconds stretch between us. Jackson can get away with a lot of shit, but I have a line. A limit. A breaking point I never want to reach again. I’ve lost all my friends and an ex once because of dishonesty; I am never enduring something like that again.
I’m going to spell out what I need from him in no uncertain terms so that he understands this is one line that cannot be crossed.
“No more secrets, okay? When we get back to the real world, I’m prepared to forget about this weekend if that’s whatyou want. But I need us to be honest with each other. No more games. No more lies. Even if they’re via omission. This is important to me, Jackson. After everything I told you about what happened in the city, I’m sure you understand why. So, what do you say? Do we have a deal?”
He holds my gaze for what feels like eternity before eventually pressing his lips together. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “We have a deal.”
24
Jackson
“Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Him?” Pip booms, shooting to his feet.
“I shouldn’t have toldyouanything,” I mutter as he charges his hand through his hair and begins pacing.
We’re sitting on the bench under the valley oak tree at the sanctuary, catching up in person for the first time since my return from the hostage weekend.
Sunday lunchtime, a car arrived to pick us up. Not Clancy or Wagner, but a private driver we couldn’t yell at. I had to wait until I got dropped off at Clancy’s for that. Except…it wasn’t so much yelling as it was a lot of shit-eating grinning on his part and me trying to sound madder than I was about the whole thing.
Because how can I actually be mad about what happened? I had a great time. I had sex. I got to know Maverick better. He got to know me better.
And I lied to him.
I stared him right in the eye and agreed to a deal I’m not ready to commit to yet.
“This is bad.” The outline of Pip’s tiny frame moves frantically from left to right in front of me, the soft ground muffling his rapid footfalls. “I mean, it’s good that you two finally got it on. But you lied, Jackson.”
I sink lower into the bench. “I know,” I mutter.
“The cornerstone of all good relationships is honesty.”
I kick a patch of brown dirt beneath my boots. “I know. Can you sit down? You’re making me dizzy.”
“Sorry.” He stops walking and drops down next to me. “I don’t get it, though. You just had an incredible weekend together. He gave you an opening to be honest. You could have told him.”
“Pip, stop! I know all of this.”
“Then why didn’t you tell him?”
“Because it’s a one and done,” I spit out, the lie leaving a bitter aftertaste in my mouth, worse than the aftermath of Clancy’s ill-fated attempt at trying his hand at sushi. “We had one nice weekend together. I don’t owe him anything.”
The last part could be true. The first part is a gross underplay.
