Jackson's Girl: Being His Duology by Charlie R. Love

Author:Charlie R. Love [Love , Charlie R.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2020-11-07T16:00:00+00:00

20

Past: Emily

What is that you want to talk to me about?” Jackson asked in the darkness of the bedroom. We’ve been laying there for who knows how long, neither one of us quite ready for sleep.

Jackson was lying on the center of the bed, and I was on top of him, my head on his naked chest as I drew random shapes on his skin.

“Your fight with Jude is tomorrow night.”

He tightened his arms around me. “No, Emily.”

“You didn’t even hear what I have to say.”

“You want to come to the fight. The answer is no.”

I looked up and met his eyes. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t trust the crowd. Because everyone already knows about you, and they will do anything to get to me.”

“What? You think someone will hurt me?” I shook my head. That was ridiculous. I told him as much.

“It isn’t ridiculous. I know these people, and having you there means I won’t be able to focus on anything but keeping you safe.”

“Aiden will be there. He’ll keep me safe.”

“No. Aiden will be too busy running the betting ring to watch you.”

“I don’t need to be watched,” I said, getting more and more frustrated the more we talked. “I’m not a baby.”

“Sweetheart, I know that.”

“No, you don’t. Or else you wouldn’t try to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” I looked at him. “I’m really not. I’m trying to protect you. How can I do that when I’ll be busy beating the shit out of Jude?”

“Grant will come with me, too. You know he’ll take care of me. I’ll be fine,” I argued. But it didn’t look like he was budging. And that just pissed me off.

But what angered me the most about this situation was how I came to him, as if I was asking for permission. I wasn’t.

But it still hurt that he would tell me no.

I looked away from him and refused to meet his eyes. With a sigh, he cupped my cheeks until I look at him again.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said softly, wiping away my tears.

“I’m tired, Jackson.”

I moved off the bed and looked around for something to wear to sleep, settling on his t-shirt I found folded neatly in the walk-in closet. I wouldn’t meet his eyes on my way to the bathroom, though I felt his on me.

I stayed in there longer than necessary. I wasn’t brave enough to face Jackson, especially when I was feeling so emotional.

When I got out, the lights were still on, and Jackson was sitting on the bed, obviously waiting for me. He had put his boxer briefs back on, and nothing else, his hair a mess, probably from having run his fingers through them.

His eyes tracked my movements, from the door to the light switch, and even when the room was bathed in darkness, with nothing more than the soft light the moon provided, I could feel the heat of his eyes on me.

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