Burning Slowly

Chapter 16

Jackson felt off. He wasn't sure what was wrong. Since lunch time he'd been having trouble focusing. It was like he was desperately hungry, but it didn't matter what he put in his stomach. It wasn't good enough, wasn't sweet enough, wasn't salty enough. It just wasn't enough. It was driving him insane.

He wandered into the kitchen. Allison was there making something to eat. Whatever she was making smelled delicious. He got closer, took a deep breath. There was something different about her scent too. He wondered if she'd changed the type of soap she normally used.

"Smells good," Jackson said. He walked over, leaned next to her against the counter.

She smiled at him. "What smells good?" She opened the cabinet, craned her neck to look for something on the higher shelves. "Why do people put the peanut butter on the highest shelf? It's just cruel."

Jackson turned, stepped behind her. He reached over her shoulder, grabbed the jar of peanut butter. Allison shook her hair out of her face. Jackson took a deep breath, his stomach flipped. She smelled delicious, a combination of strawberries and something else. He wondered what kind of shampoo she used.

Allison reached over her shoulder, but didn't turn to look at him. He stared at the peanut butter in his hand, then watched her fingers wiggling in the air waiting for him to hand her the jar. Her finger's smelled even more delicious than her hair. He licked his lips, leaned in closer.

"Jackson?" Allison sighed. "No teasing, I'm too hungry for teasing." She laughed and shook her head again.

Jackson bit his tongue. He'd been thinking about licking her. What the hell was wrong with him? He pushed the jar of peanut butter into her hands. "Sorry," he said. "Enjoy lunch." He turned and rushed out of the kitchen.

"Are you okay?" Allison sounded concerned.

"Yeah I'm good; I'm just going to go look out at the ocean from the terrace." He didn't wait for her response. He rushed up the stairs, needed to get out of her personal space. He was going insane.

At the top of the stairs he caught the scent of whatever had been all over Allison. It flickered through his mind, taunted him. It led him down the hall. He sniffed the air every few feet, stopped in front of the door at the end. He pushed it open.

Whatever it was, whatever he couldn't get out of his mind was inside the room. His mind started to drift. It was strong here. He wandered over to the bed near the window. It wasn't made; pillows and blankets were strewn about. He grabbed one of the pillows. He stared at it for a few moments. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason he held it against his face. It had been there in the bed. Desire twisted in his gut. The scent filled up his brain, obliterated his other thoughts. He collapsed onto the bed and tangled the blankets around his body.

He curled his fingers in the sheets, nuzzled his face into the pillow. It was so soft, smelled so wonderful. He wanted to stay in the room, wanted to stay buried in the smell. He took a deep breath, rolled onto his back. He clutched the pillow to his chest.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he realized that something was wrong. He was relatively sure he was in Derek's room. "What the fuck?" he said hysterically. He hurled the pillow away from his body, almost fell as he tried to untangle himself from the sheets and get out of the room. He rushed down the stairs.

He was shaking and panting when he made it into the kitchen. Allison wasn't there. She must have left while he was going insane upstairs. He had to get out, needed some fresh air. He headed out the back, jogged down the ramp to the beach.

He glanced at his watch. Hours had passed. He'd been rolling around on a bed in Derek's room for hours. He was ridiculous and he had no idea why. What the hell was wrong with him? He glanced at his phone. There were messages from Lydia. He ignored them.