CHAPTER 41

west

I was so far inside my head that I quit working. I couldn’t fucking focus on anything and damn near screwed up everything I touched. Instead, I sat on the far side of the horse corral and just watched the horses do their thing. All the while, I thought about Jackson.

I could barely remember a fucking thing about panic cleaning the kitchen. Finding the rooms painted had triggered another stupid episode. I didn’t know how to handle Jackson’s kindness—his attempts to take care of me. No one had ever done shit like that for me.

And what did he get out of it? What was I supposed to give him in return? That question fucked with my head. I didn’t have a damn thing I could offer him.

It almost fucked with me as much as when I woke up with my head in Jackson’s lap. His hand had rested around my shoulder as he slept, and it felt almost nice. Almost nice enough for me to close my eyes and pretend to sleep some fucking more. But I couldn’t—not with the weird buzzing coursing through my body .

Hell, I had pretended to sleep, even when he woke up. Instead of moving me, he just sat there with his fingers running through my hair. It was almost nice. It set my nerves on fire but it was almost nice. No one has even touched me like that.

And at the end of it all, Jackson got up and left for work as if nothing had happened between us. Which was for the better because I didn’t know what the hell to say or do. Fuck, I didn’t know what to make of it all.

It left me confused and anxious. I didn’t know how to act around Jackson, so I avoided him. That was what I did best: run away from my problems. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. What did normal people do when they woke up cuddling their former best friend turned boss turned whatever weird fucking thing we were now?

The sight of Jackson walking across the corral pulled me from my thoughts. Fuck. If I was being honest with myself, Jackson was attractive—not that I’d tell him that. The problem was I didn’t know if I was attracted to him. Honestly, I didn’t know what it felt like to be attracted to anyone. The whole concept was foreign to me. While I’d tried many times to force the experience—to prove I could be like everyone else—it never happened. I never felt a fucking thing.

But with Jackson?

Things with Jackson were different lately. There was something. I didn’t have a fucking clue what that thing was but there was something. Was this what it was like to be attracted to someone? To Jackson? Fuck, I’d been attracted to him when we were young but that was so goddamn long ago. I couldn’t remember what that felt like.

He stopped in front of me, hands bracketing his hips. I just stared at him—maybe I glared at him. I didn’t have a fucking clue. I wasn’t in control of my face at this point.

“You want to talk about it?” Jackson asked quietly. Fuck. I should’ve known this shit was coming. He always wanted to talk.

“No.”

“Okay,” he relented real damn fast. Thank fuck. I couldn’t handle more of his pushing and prodding today. “Can I sit with you?”

“It’s your fucking fence,” I snapped. His nostrils flared as he took in a deep breath, clearly holding his composure. I immediately felt bad. He didn’t deserve my anger. I scooted slightly on the rail to make room for him and whispered, “Yeah.”

He climbed up on the fence next to me. I waited for him to start talking like he always did, but he kept the silence and just sat there watching horses with me.

The violent clap of thunder overhead came out of nowhere as did the heavy downpour that followed. The horses panicked, and we were left scrambling to collect them. It was a fucking mess of a situation with horses scattering, Jackson swearing, and me trying not to get trampled.

By the time the horses were sorted out in their stables, Jackson and I were both soaked and out of breath. I ran a hand through my wet hair as I stared out the open barn doors. Jackson settled on the other side, leaning against the frame with a scowl on his face.

“I checked the fucking weather,” he grumbled. I didn’t hear the rest of whatever he said. My brain went right back to the train of thought about Jackson. I was obsessively stuck on everything.

“Why’d you do it?” I interrupted whatever the fuck he was saying. He let out a small sound of confusion. Yeah, that was my fault. I elaborated, “The paint… the locks… why’d you do it?”

“Because.” He shrugged as if that was enough of an answer. It wasn’t.

“Why do you care so damn much about what happens to me?” I asked. That was the one thing I couldn’t wrap my head around. And I wanted it to make sense. I needed to know why.

“I’d rather go through hell with you, West, than watch it destroy you.”

He’d… what?

What did that mean?

I didn’t know what the fuck to do with that, but something hot flared in my chest. It wrapped around my heart and did something inexplicable to me. Closing the distance between us, I grabbed his shirt and kissed him. Was that really what I was doing? I didn’t have a clue. I felt as awkward as I did the first fucking time. Sure, I’d kissed a handful of people, but none that I wanted to. None that mattered .

Jackson mattered.

His hands cradled my head as he stepped closer. My body stiffened in reaction. Why was this so fucking difficult? I kissed him again and again in an attempt to silence the demons in my head telling me this was all wrong.

In the end, the voices won.

“I’m not worth it,” I whispered breathlessly against his mouth.

“You just let me keep believing that for the both of us,” Jackson said, quiet and full of conviction. He kissed me again. When his tongue touched the seam of my lips, I opened.

Everything about his kiss was soft and gentle, but I felt it with every fiber of my being. The sensations rolling through me were overwhelming. My world tipped and the spiral from his touch was intense.

“West,” he began as he broke the kiss, “I can feel you shaking. Do you want to stop?”

Shaking? Was I shaking? I didn’t have a fucking clue. I didn’t know what I was feeling. It was… something.

Good?

Bad?

I couldn’t tell.

But I wanted to find out.

I had to find out—had to figure out if I liked kissing Jackson.

Wordlessly, I shook my head, unable to clear the fog in my head, and kissed him again.