Chapter 7

7

HARPER

G ood thing I can’t die from embarrassment. Close though. But it bled into some type of easy peace as Jackson tightly curled himself around me, as if it was possible for him to protect me from my own rotten brain. No one has ever made me feel so safe. Just for one single moment nothing else mattered except for the strength of Jackson’s arms shielding me from the world. Everything was hush-quiet in the cage of his arms, even my usually constantly thumping anxiety.

But then he left, and loneliness again invaded every corner of my life.

Lonely and useless and why is the medicine not working anymore? Something has to give. I don’t remember life before epilepsy. Sometimes it’s just as part of me as breathing. Usually, I try to handle it with a level of grace, of levity, that people have the option to forget.

Maybe it was the sweet thing Jackson had done for me by thinking of the rage room. Maybe it was how time and time again he shows up, weirdly wanting to know me, be in my presence. No one else has ever bothered. This might all go to shit but wouldn’t it be nice to just once have something for myself?

The next morning, Andy drops by with freshly baked muffins and a quiche from her mother.

Andy roughly pushes the full container of food into my arms. “She said that you should tell your mom.”

I sigh heavily. Telling my mother is the last thing I want to do. She’ll drag me back to the doctor, make me go through more tests, when the doctor explicitly told me what to do already. If the uptick goes too high, then I go back. Otherwise, we will discuss everything at my next visit. Simple.

“I’m not telling her.”

Andy shrugs as she raids my freezer for candy. Munching on a frozen Reese’s, she eyes me critically. I squirm under her stare, finally giving up and digging into the muffins. They’re good. Pumpkin, my favorites.

My eyes narrow. “Joey baked these.”

Andy snorts around her candy. “You are weirdly good at that. Yes, Joey baked the muffins.”

“Andy,” I whine petulantly, just barely holding back from stomping my feet. “You promised. Only you or Cindy can know when I have a seizure. Not the cousins or the guys!”

“You’re such a baby. Everyone knows you have seizures. People want to help take care of you.”

“That’s the problem!” I shout. I pant in anger, then press my hand to my forehead. “I hate that people know. I hate it. You know that.”

“Harper,” Andy says my name like she says fuck . Like I’m the most annoying person on earth. I probably am actually. “We’re talking about family, Joey, and Lee. What about them makes you feel like they’re going to judge you for having fucking epilepsy.”

“Just… just…” Grabbing at my hair, I tug hard, trying to center myself. “Don’t tell them anymore.”

Andy comes around the island to stand in front of me. She wipes her hands on her overalls, then grabs my cheeks between her palms. “I blame your mother for this. I truly do. You’re not a burden on any of us. Please, Harper. Let us take care of you.”

I huff out an annoyed breath, but don’t pull away. Andy tenderly sweeps her thumbs under my eyes, calming my rapidly beating heart.

“It’s not just Mom… it’s you too. I feel bad that you... That you worry about me.”

Andy rolls her eyes. “If you bring up high school again, I’m going to actually choke you out.”

“I—”

“Shut up.” Andy stares me down until I’m forced to listen. “Those guys were jerks and I don’t regret getting kicked off the cheer team for a moment. Anyone that loves you would feel the same way. Your mom makes you feel like some weird burden and those assholes made you think there’s something wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Taking a few deep breaths, I finally nod in her hold, earning a pleased sound from Andy.

“Now, tell me about Jackson.”

I groan loudly. “I have this odd feeling you guys are trying to get us together. We aren’t pandas. You can’t just put us in a room together and expect us to… I don’t know, mate or whatever.”

“Fuck like bunnies?” Andy clarifies with a snicker.

“He’s so big… do you think?”

Andy snorts and rolls her eyes. “My love, I have heard some stories. You better be ready.”

“Stories,” I repeat carefully. The muffin in my mouth suddenly tastes like ash.

Andy waves her hand dismissively. “Nothing bad. Calm down. I just think he’ll be good for you. Sometimes, you need a firm hand. Jackson definitely has one of those.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I ask around a large mouthful of pumpkin muffin.

Andy makes a disgusted face, so I open my mouth wide, showing her my half-eaten food. Make the kids grow up, but the kids never leave us.

“Well, you’re kind of a brat.”

I blink slowly at her accusation. “I’m sarcastic and funny.”

She tilts her head back and forth. “Bratty.”

I just sigh, giving up on disagreeing with her. We eat our snacks in comfortable silence. Andy dips down to give Honey a few pats, kissing all over her face as she usually does. Everyone’s in love with my dog. Rightfully so. Honey is perfect, the one plus side to this epilepsy stuff. One of my father’s stipulations to living alone had been a service dog. At first it had pissed me off, but once I had Honey in my arms, I was thrilled.

“How’s Ethan?” I ask after demolishing two pumpkin muffins.

Andy lifts her head with a frown. “Still in the Navy.”

Now, it’s my turn to be exasperated. “Andy.”

She stands after giving Honey one final kiss to her nose. “He’s still on tour. I think he’ll be back around Christmas. Hopefully.”

“What are the plans for when he gets back?”

“Make a baby probably.”

I wrinkle my nose and gag. “Gross.”

Andy punches my shoulder. “As if you wouldn’t love to hold a little Andy. Number one babysitter.”

Andy flits away to go about her day, once again leaving me alone with just Honey. Although, I guess I’m never alone if I have Honey. I curl up on the couch with a full stomach, warm mug of coffee, and Honey tucked against my side. Ready to spend the day binging reality television.

My phone lights up where it lies on my sofa. A smile forms on my lips just at the sight of Jackson’s name. Trouble, I’m in serious trouble.

Jackson

I assume you made it through the night?

Sorry to disappoint

Yourself?

I do have a death wish

Not when I’m around

*throws up*

Do you have plans next weekend?

Not as of right now

Well, now you do.

Seriously? You can’t just tell me what to do.

asked if you had plans, you said no, so now I’m telling you that you have plans. Simple as that, punk.

Fine

Don’t sound so eager, calm down…

You are VERY annoying

You like me

Whoever said that

You didn’t have to say it. I can see it in your eyes. I have BIG plans for Saturday. Big plans. You better be ready.

Should I bring a weapon? Running shoes? Prepared to commit a crime of some sort?

You are never planning our dates

Dates?

hangouts

Anyway, what level of criminal are we getting up to

No criming. Maybe some dancing. Look hot but comfortable. And wear your hair down.

... okay

:)

Jackson texts me throughout the week. Nothing major, just small texts to remind me he’s thinking of me. Work keeps me plenty busy thankfully. Distractions are always welcome. In the middle of the week, I’m sitting at my desk, working diligently on a time-sensitive project, when my doorbell rings.

Not expecting anyone, I ignore it. Probably just a delivery I forgot about. Time passes by until suddenly, my phone rings and Jackson’s name flashes across the screen. That’s odd. We haven’t progressed to calls yet.

“Yes?” I answer.

Jackson laughs into the phone. “That’s how you answer the phone?”

“When it’s you.”

“Go check your front door,” Jackson orders, tone low and firm. A shiver crawls down my spine.

“Is there a bomb?”

“Maybe.”

Curiosity piqued, I pad out of my office, and towards the front door. Honey peeks at me from where she lies on the sofa, curled up in a tight ball. Must be nice. I open the front door but there’s no one there.

“I thought you were going to be standing here,” I say, disappointment clear in my voice.

“Look down,” Jackson murmurs softly.

My gaze lands on a bouquet of burnt-orange roses, almost the exact shade of my hair. “You sent me flowers?”

“Absolutely. Do you like them?”

I carefully set the fragrant flowers down in the middle of the kitchen island. “No one has ever bought me flowers.”

Jackson gives a pleased hum. “So, I’m the first?”

I bark out a loud laugh. “Jesus, you’re ridiculous. Sure, you’re the first man to send me flowers.”

“Good. Are you excited for this weekend?”

Honey wanders into the kitchen to inspect what’s going on. Her head tilts at the flowers, before she turns uncaring towards her water bowl. Sweet girl. She shakes once, rattling her collar and tag.

“Wait, is that Honey?”

“Yes, Jackson, I am beyond excited for this weekend. I cannot wait to spend time with you. The highlight of my weekend.”

“Yes, great. Honey?”

“Yes, sweetcheeks?”

Jackson growls into the phone. “Okay, fine, you’re being ridiculous. I just heard her moving around, okay. I miss her. Also, sweetcheeks is not going to be my pet name.”

“Snookums?”

“No.”

“Bubba.”

Jackson growls again. “Definitely not.”

“Daddy?”

The silence over the phone is stifling. Oh no. I like to joke, but I’m not an asshole.

“I was just?—”

“I like Daddy,” Jackson says quietly, even a little timidly.

Well, that’s a new one. “Oh.”

“That’s a discussion for another time.”

“Alright,” I say, just as eager to move on as Jackson. “The flowers are beautiful. I really do love them.”

The sound of movement rattles through from the other end of the phone, like maybe Jackson’s walking around his townhome. I can’t be sure. But it’s oddly relaxing in a way I can’t explain.

“Your house needed some color. I also just wanted to make you happy.”

A knot forms in my throat. Jesus. Who is this guy? “Thank you,” I say quietly.

“You're welcome. I’ll pick you up on Saturday evening.”

I’ve never been more excited for a weekend. The week crawls by painfully slow. Sleep is hard to come by, but when I do sleep, I dream about Jackson. Dreams where I kiss him awake and burrow into his strong arms. The idea of kissing him plagues me. I wonder what he’d taste like? Probably something spicy, maybe even a little sweet. Cinnamon and orange.

I spend the majority of Saturday afternoon going through my closet like a man possessed. Half of my closet ends up strewn across the floor. Finally, I settle on the tightest dark-wash jeans I own, a form-fitting V-neck in dark green, and a leather jacket that Andy and I thrifted at an antique store in the panhandle one summer. Just as Jackson asked, I leave my hair down in loose waves around my shoulders.

At seven on the dot, a soft knock rattles through my door.

I tear it open, way more eager than I’ve ever been in my life. “Hi.”

Jackson grins, warm and wide. “Hi.”

His eyes sweep over me, obviously pleased with my outfit choice. I stand there awkwardly for a moment until he tugs me into his arms to bury his face in the crook of my neck. Curling my arms around his big body, I allow him to hold me. Warmth builds in the pit of my belly when he takes a deep breath, burrowing into my neck a little more as if my body brings him comfort.

“You always smell good,” Jackson mumbles against my neck.

I fight a shiver. “Cologne.”

“Hmm.” Jackson presses a kiss just under my ear. When he pulls away, his gaze meets mine just as his fingers curl around my hips under my shirt. His touch is burning hot and heavy, the weight of his touch coursing through me like hot lava. “You look good.”

“You look better,” I say, voice thick.

Jackson bites his lip in a way that sends my blood boiling. “Yeah?”

I nod, unable to utter a single word. Again, for one brief moment, I’m afraid he’s going to kiss me. Maybe this man just has that sort of look. But the way his gaze dips to my mouth tells a different story. No one has ever looked at my mouth as much as Jackson.

Clearing his throat, Jackson pulls away. He puts a careful foot between us. Nodding towards Honey, he brushes some hair out of my face so he can stare deeply into my eyes.

“She’s coming with us.”

“She can stay behind.” She can, but I hate to leave her. She’s a security blanket as much as she’s my protector.

Jackson shakes his head. “Nope. She’s welcome where we're going. I’ve worked it all out.”

Jackson takes my hand in his, whistling sharply in order for Honey to follow us. Like the absolute good girl she is, she promptly listens, shaking her service vest out as she walks. A pleased grin warms Jackson’s face, but per usual, he doesn’t even acknowledge Honey except to open the car door for her. Then of course he opens mine. This time he settles me into the seat and carefully reaches across me to fasten my seat belt. I tightly close my eyes as his forearm grazes across my stomach. Breathing in the smell of him, I hold it in my lungs until I’ve memorized the scent. No man has ever smelled so effortlessly sexy. The scent isn’t strong, but the way it blends with his skin makes me decidedly insane. It’s sweet, but rich, like how I’d imagine a businessman that runs a multimillion-dollar business would smell. Lovely.

Once we’re on the road, Jackson turns on the station I liked from the other day. Pure romance ballads. A flush creeps up my neck at the thought of being known. I try to ignore it, instead focusing on the music wafting from the speakers. The sky turns black as we drive away from Clay Springs and towards downtown. This time of year the sun sets later, until November when the time finally changes. Then the damn sun disappears before most people have even gotten home.

Time changes are stupid.

Give me the sun early, and keep it late.

“How was your week?” Jackson asks, mindlessly making conversation.

“Some guy sent me flowers. It was the highlight of my week.”

A smirk trembles at the corners of Jackson’s lips. “Oh, really?”

I nod slowly. “Mhmm. They smell wonderful.”

Jackson reaches over with his right hand to tangle his fingers with my own. God, his hand is so large. The width and breadth of his hand dwarfs my own small hand, fingers woefully thin in comparison. But instead of making me feel weak or small, Jackson’s hand makes me feel safe. I know for a fact he’d never hurt me, but maybe his hands can chase away all the pain that tries to constantly pour over me.

The car turns down a dark road downtown and he pulls into an empty parking lot. Curiously, I notice Colby’s Jeep and Beau’s work truck parked outside. Odd.

“Where are we? Why is my family here?”

Jackson promptly ignores me by climbing out of the car. He lets Honey out first, as is tradition, then opens the passenger side door for me. With a firm hand on my forearm, he assists me out of the car. My mind races as he guides me towards the dark building. Obviously, he can’t kill me if my family is here. So where the hell has he brought me?

After one single knock on a heavy metal door, it pushes open.

A tall guy covered in tattoos slaps hands with Jackson. “All yours for the night, bro. Text me when you leave so I can lock up.”

“Thanks, Trent. I owe you one.”

The guy shakes his shaved head. “Nah.” With a smirk towards me, the guy disappears out the door.

The inside is pitch black, with dark red walls and graffiti art all over the place. The only light emanates from the bar signs scattered around the hallway. Playful sayings are lit up in rainbows of colors. Tequila makes my clothes fall off. Whiskey is cheap, compared to me. The place is obviously a bar of some sort. Jackson leads me deeper until the hallway ends, and a large dance floor fills the room. A balcony wraps around above us, but we’re on the bottom floor.

Oh God. He rented out a nightclub to make one of my wishes come true.

This motherfucker.

“Jackson…” I trail off, suddenly overwhelmed at his thoughtfulness.

Jackson drops my hand to wrap his palm around the back of my neck. He squeezes once, hard, then releases me with a teasing wink. He gathers my hand back in his, and I let him, for once not pulling away. At the other end of the dance floor stands my family. This is such a huge step that my heart does a funny little flip in my chest.

“We’re all here,” Trevor tells Jackson with a raised eyebrow. “Care to share details?”

Jackson stands up as straight as possible. Either to look threatening or to show off to Colby and Beau. I’ve no clue. But I oddly like it.

“We’re having a nightclub night without the flashing lights or crowds. Perfect, huh?”

I shrink a little under everyone’s attention. Jackson tugs his hand out of mine, only to wrap his thick arm around my shoulders. The grin on Eli’s lips could power nuclear fission. Fuck.

“Well, we brought soda as requested, along with cupcakes from Bee’s.” Colby gestures towards the table littered with drinks and far too many cupcakes to count.

Beau wraps an arm around Trevor’s waist, tugging him closer, before pressing a kiss to the side of Trevor’s head. The warm smile on Trevor’s face is sweet, almost innocent. Gross. They’re all so besotted with each other. If I ever look at someone like that, take me out back and shoot me.

Jackson pulls out his phone and presses a few buttons. Moments later, dance music blares from the speakers overhead. The atmosphere of a nightclub without all the triggers that usually make it impossible for me to enjoy. The air is cool against my skin, there’s nobody to trample me if I fall while dancing, and the lights are a soft muted blue with absolutely no flashing. Jackson thought of everything, just for me.

“Where’s Andy?” I ask when I notice her absence.

“With Mom,” Beau says carefully, eyes downcast.

“Bad day?” Eli asks, radiating sympathy.

“Bad few weeks.” Beau shrugs, then aims a soft look at Trevor. “She’ll get there with time. It’s almost been a year.”

“First year is the hardest,” Colby points out.

Eli leans into Colby, earning a heartsick grin from my cousin. “Everything with time.”

“The busiest season at the farm is winding down soon,” Colby says, mostly to Beau. “Looking good?”

Beau shrugs as he grabs a vanilla cupcake. He carefully unwraps it, plates it, then cuts it in half with a fork. He proceeds to put the other half on a plate for Trevor. No asking, nothing, just plated him a damn cupcake. Trevor elbows Beau in the arm, but gratefully takes the cupcake.

“Farm is on autopilot these days,” Beau says around a mouthful of cupcake.

Colby scoffs. “Beau. Stop downplaying everything you do.”

Beau grins at Colby. “Never.”

“How’s school, kiddo?” Jackson questions Eli.

Eli cutely wrinkles his nose. “I’m so ready to be done.”

“Professor Eli,” Trevor teases before sweetly booping Eli’s nose.

Eli slaps Trevor’s hand away. “Fuck off.”

Jackson laughs at his friends, but doesn’t join in. I lift my head to look at him, feeling a smile tug at my lips. Jackson turns his head slightly to stare down at me, his thumb rubbing at the skin just under the neck of my sweater. My cheeks warm under his stare. I tear my gaze away to look anywhere but at him. When my gaze meets Trevor’s, his gaze is knowing and soft.

“Well, I guess we could dance,” Trevor says with a small shrug. He turns towards Beau to whisper something in his boyfriend’s ear. Whatever he said has Beau gripping Trevor’s hip tightly, mumbling something I can’t make out.

With a slightly evil laugh, Trevor pulls away from Beau’s possessive grip. Trevor grabs Eli’s hand and tugs him towards me, both of them radiating some low-level maniacal energy that has me a little concerned for myself.

“Dance with us,” Trevor orders, eyes glowing with mischief.

“Maybe I want to watch you guys dance.”

Eli tips up on his toes. “You definitely want to dance with us.”

“Alright, Harp?” Colby asks as he takes a slow sip of soda.

I actively try not to cringe at the nickname. I hate it, always have. But I can’t be a giant, huge, colossal dick by telling my family hey, stop calling me a musical instrument, I fucking hate it . Instead I suck it up and pretend it’s fine. When I glance over at Jackson, he’s staring at me, a little furrow between his brows. He’s always trying to figure me out.

“I’m always fine,” I say loudly, as much to convince myself as to convince them.

Beau snorts. “Go dance, then.”

“This feels like a serious role switch,” I mumble under my breath as Eli tugs me out onto the dance floor.

“Follow our lead,” Trevor whispers to me.

Alright. Trevor manhandles me until my back is flush against his strong chest. Oh. And then Eli presses against my front, sandwiching me between their warm bodies. I’m distantly aware of Honey at my feet, probably wondering what the hell is going on. Trevor sways to the beat, his hands hard on my hips. One hand slowly trails up my stomach, forcing a shocked gasp from my lips. Fuck. His warm palm tenderly cups my chin, carefully tipping my head back to rest against his shoulder.

“Jackson is one of my best friends,” Trevor murmurs in my ear, warm breath ghosting over my already flushed cheek. “And when I tell you I’ve never seen him want someone as much as he wants you… if you let him have you, he’ll never let go. It’s up to you, Harper.”

I squeeze my eyes shut tight against his words. Everything is too much. Eli’s hands ghost over my thighs as he slowly rises up to press against me again. Being caught between both of them has my system in overload at the dual sensations. Trevor at my back, pressing against me, moving me, with Eli at my front… I’m going to die.

“Hey, Harper,” Eli whispers sweetly against my ear at the same time Trevor slowly dances his hand up the inside of my thigh. Oh, fuck.

“I…”

“Just trust us, okay?” Eli softly kisses my cheek. “And trust Jackson.”

My eyes slowly blink open in the dark haze of the club to watch Eli move his hips in a sensual roll. Eli’s hands rise to grip my ribs so he can press himself hard against me, wiggling in a way that makes my head spin dangerously.

They’re going to kill me.

Before I can ever kiss Jackson.

Life is so cruel.