Miss Jackson {b.u.}

{71}

Sometime in mid 2013:

I sat in my office. I hadn't spoke to anyone today, I wasn't having a good day and I don't mean to put blame on anyone but I fully blame Keaton. He was draining and tiring, but there was nothing else I could do. I rummaged through papers, trying to find the draft of a suit to show Brendon. Him and I had gotten out of this weird 'I hate you phase,' and it was refreshing because him and I weren't arguing over literally anything.

A knock had appeared on my door and it opened. I glanced up as I continued to look through papers, "what're you doin'? You busy?"

I stopped looking through my papers and raised an eyebrow at him, "are you serious? What does it look like?"

Brendon stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and tilted his head at me, "you dont look busy to me."

I scoffed and shook my head. I continued to look through papers, "okay? What do you need, Brendon?"

He put his hand out, "come with me."

I hesitated to set my papers down. I looked at him for reassurance. He nodded his head and I finally set the papers down, getting up and taking his hand, "you better hope nobody sees what you're about to do. You're not going to be too fond when someone sees us."

Brendon shook his head and raised an eyebrow, pulling me close, "I don't care if everyone sees, Miss Jackson."

I bit the inside of my cheek, "is anyone here?"

"No," he began, "you overworked."

I tilted my head and dropped my shoulders, "Did I really?"

"Yeah," he began and walked us toward the door, opening it, "let's go, I need you to tell me if this one suit looks good on me."

I smiled and followed him out of my office, down the hallway. It was a few doors down and Brendon held the door open for me and I walked in, nodding my head as a thank you. I walked in, sitting at the chair in front of the big mirror, resting my feet on the edge of the counter—and my knees were almost close to my chest. My left arm was resting across my stomach and propping my other arm to keep it up. I scrolled through my phone. Brendon walked up behind my chair. He was wearing a black shirt with black skinny jeans. I glanced at him in the mirror and he pushed the my hair to the front of my shoulders. He pulled his hands back and brought the back of his wrist to his eyes, covering them because the light was bothering him.

I quickly pulled my camera app open, posing for the camera and took a photo. I kept my arm resting against my left hand and stared at the picture, "did you just take a photo of us?"

I flicked my wrist and my phone faced the ceiling, "yeah. Did you not want me to?"

Brendon put his palms against the back of my chair, leaning down and putting his face next to mine, "if it were anyone else, I wouldn't have let them take a picture."

I furrowed my eyebrows and stared at him. I set my phone down on the counter. The silence wasn't growing loud. I turned in my chair, taking my feet off of the counter and facing him. Brendon kept his hands pressed against the chair. His face was a couple feet from my face. I pulled some of my hair behind my ear, "you know we can't be doing this."

Brendon smirked, "that's the fun of it all, JJ."

I stared at him and clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, "We shouldn't have to hide it."

Brendon back away from the chair and walked to where I was sitting. He motioned that I get up and he sat in my spot. He patted his lap and looked at me. I sat down on his lap and his hand rested on my thigh as I threw my legs across him, "It's not always going to be this way. You understand? You will be able to be free with me one day."