Grace
He didn’t fix me with his body but with his words. We stayed up talking about anything and everything in our lives, which made it a bit easier for me to breathe. Knowing more facts about Jackson made life seem less lonesome.
“When did you know you wanted to work on cars?” I asked him.
He grimaced a bit and shrugged. “I didn’t. I wanted to go to art school. I took more so after my mom than my dad, but after everything that happened, I figured I should help out at the shop.”
“You never wanted to be a mechanic?”
“Never.”
That made me sad for him. He couldn’t even find the time to chase his dreams after spending most of his life caring for his father. “You can always go back to school,” I told him.
He shrugged. “I’m fine here.”
“But are you happy here?”
“Happiness never really seemed like an option for someone like me.”
“You deserve it more than most.”
“But less than you.” He somewhat grinned. “You deserve it the most.”
We lived in a strange world, he and I. A world where we weren’t exactly free to express how we really felt for one another, but in my mind, I told him over and over again.
I adore you. I adore you. I adore you…
His finger traced my wrist and then he pulled my arm closer to his and kissed it. “You’re bruised from the last time I pinned you down.”
“There are worse ways to get bruises.” I smirked. He frowned a little, looking at my wrist. “It’s okay, Jackson. I’m fine.”
“I just don’t want to hurt you.”
“Lately, you’re about the only thing not hurting me.” I moved in and kissed his lips softly.
He closed his eyes for a second, and when he reopened them, his hazel stare sent chills down my spine. “When do you go back to Atlanta to teach?”
We hadn’t really spoken about me leaving. Over the past few months, we’d simply fallen into one another’s arms and hadn’t exchanged many words outside of moans. When we did speak, it was always about our pasts, never about the future.
“In about three weeks,” I told him.
He looked down, a hint of disappointment in his stare. “Oh, okay.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s just…I’m going to miss you, that’s all.”
My heart skipped another beat.
“Jackson Paul Emery misses people?” I joked, trying to control the feelings raging in my chest.
“No, not people…just you.”
I adore you. I adore you. I adore you…
My fingers fell to the side of his neck, and I began to massage his skin as he wrapped his arms around me. My stare stayed on his lips. That same mouth had been all over my body, but what touched me the most were the words that fell from between those lips of his.
“I’m going to miss you, too,” I said softly. “Without you, I would’ve drowned this summer.”
He kissed me, and something shifted that night. His kisses felt different, more real than the fictional story we’d been telling one another every single day for so many weeks. He hadn’t said the words, and I hadn’t either, but our kisses felt like we were begging for a little more time, a few more touches, a few more skipping heartbeats.
I stayed longer that night as our touches almost mimicked something that could’ve been confused with love. As the sun began to rise, I began to put on my clothes and started heading back to my place.
“I’ll walk you home,” he offered.
I smiled and yawned. “You know I’ll decline.”
“Text me when you make it back?”
“I can do that.”
“Okay.” He smiled, leaning against the doorframe.
“Okay,” I replied.
“Gracelyn Mae?”
“Yes?”
He cleared his throat and placed his hands into his pockets. “Do you think I can take you out on a date sometime? Like a real date?”
Butterflies filled me up inside.
“I didn’t know Jackson Emery dated people.”
“Not people…only you.”
More butterflies.
“Actually, I was going to ask you if you’d do something with me.”
“What’s that?” he questioned.
“Each year, for as long as I can remember, my parents host a summer gala at the town hall ballroom to raise money for charities. It’s a big deal, and everyone in town dresses up like it’s the Oscars or something. There’s a big dinner and dance and literally everyone in town will be there.”
“The Harris Gala. Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”
“Be my date?” I asked him. He grimaced for a moment, and I felt my heart crack. Embarrassment hit my cheeks. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I swear, I just thought—”
“I want to come,” he told me, giving me some reassurance. “I just worry people will give you a hard time if you show up with me. I don’t want to stress you out and add more drama to your life. People will talk.”
“Let them,” I told him, placing my hands against his chest. “We just won’t listen.”
He smiled. The kind of smile that made my heart skip a few beats. He leaned into me, placing his forehead against mine.
His lips grazed mine, and I knew I was ruined.
“So…” He whispered. “It’s a date?”
“Yes.” Chills raced throughout my body. “It’s a date. Good night, Jackson Paul.”
He kissed me gently on the lips, and I felt it in every fiber of my body as his hands fell behind my neck. He massaged my skin then softly spoke with his smoky voice. “Good morning, Gracelyn Mae.”
