Will: It seems I like reminders of bullshit every now and then.
Jessica: I’ll add these reminders to my to-do list for you.
Will: Grateful male over here.
Mira: He’s right, though, Jessica. The girls are so excited to spend this weekend with you that I fear you may never offer again.
Jessica: It’s your wedding anniversary. I always babysit on your anniversary.
Mira: Yes, but you’ve never done a weekend sleepover for it.
Jessica: You forget I manage Ashton. Your girls will be a breeze.
Will: Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
“You ready to go?” Jack says, joining me out the front of his shack early Monday morning, drawing my attention from Will and Mira.
I stare at him.
And then I stare some more.
Finally, I throw out, “Ready to go where?” Holy hell, the man needs to put some clothes on. And when I say clothes, I mean he needs to rug up as if we’re in Antarctica. Including a beanie. I can’t keep being ambushed by legs and arms and hair.
Today, he’s wearing shorts that are far more fitted than the ones he wore yesterday. And that grey tee he’s wearing is all kinds of sexy. I don’t know what the hell it is about dark grey shirts on men, but there’s something. I am not here for it. Not on Jack. Not when I’m working overtime to ignore everything I possibly can about him.
The worst part of all this?
He knows.
The man fucking knows how he’s affecting me, and he’s enjoying every second of it.
His mouth all but forms a smirk. “Running, sweetheart.” He drops his gaze to my legs. “You ready to move those legs?”
I mentally slap myself for not anticipating this. I definitely should have. Jack’s making it more than clear what he’d like to happen between us, so I should have known he’d want to run with me.
I need to put my foot down. And I need to do that hard and fast.
“I didn’t come here to run with you.”
“I seem to recall you’re the one who demanded I go running with you yesterday.”
“I did. However, I don’t want to run with you today.”
“Why not?”
“A woman doesn’t need a reason for everything she does.”
“And yet she always has one.”
“No, not always.”
More of that almost smirking. And then some arm crossing I could also do without. “Tell me one thing you’ve done in your life that you haven’t had a reason for.”
“I don’t have time for this, Jack. In case you’ve forgotten, I work for your best friend who always has a million jobs for me to take care of. I need to get my run in so I can get to work.”
Those arms remain in place. “Give me one thing.”
That fishing spear I’m going in search of for Ashton? I’ll pick two up.
“Fine,” I snap, “We’ll go running, but I’m not running with you.”
“Right, that’s not confusing.”
“It’s not. You can either run in front of me or you can run behind me, but you cannot run next to me.” I glance at his arms. “And stop crossing your arms like you think you’re right and I’m wrong.”
The smirk that’s been threatening this entire conversation finally unleashes itself, forcing a lot of restraint on my behalf. I seriously want to smack it off his face.
Uncrossing his arms, he says, “I’m simply trying to understand you.”
Having had enough of this conversation and those body parts that belong in Antarctica covered the hell up, I take off down the driveway.
Jack finally shows that smart side of his I like; he runs behind me.
I move faster today than I did yesterday. Mostly because I’m trying to run this ‘what the fuck is going on with me and my inability to be affected by Jack’ energy out of me, but also because I want to push him. If he wants to run with me, he can work for it.
Full points to him. He manages to keep up with me. He also manages to stay behind me and not utter a word for the hour and a half we run.
When we arrive back at his place, we stretch in silence. I do my best not to make eye contact, but damn him, he has a very annoying way of making me look at him.
We’re halfway through our stretches when our eyes meet. Jack doesn’t say anything, he simply smiles at me. It’s that smile that does it. Every time. There’s no smirk in sight. No cockiness. There’s just Jack.
I’ve spent one day with him.
One.
Yet, it feels like a week, a month, a year.
A thousand memories flooded my mind yesterday. Spending time with him, sharing space with him, having his scent all around me smoothed the way for that to happen. I knew it would. I just didn’t know it would happen so fast. I’d hoped I could hold out for a week and then get the hell out of here and wipe myself clean of him again.
It turns out it’s in the little things.
A girl can be affected by muscles, hair, and eyes, but her soul is affected by the little things.
The lure of Jack is in his little things.
The way he pays attention, cataloguing everything while making it seem like he’s just bantering and humouring me.
The way I don’t have to verbalise every thought for him, because he reads me better than anyone.
The way he sways so perfectly with me, allowing me to keep him at bay while drawing me close at the same time.
They aren’t really the little things. They’re the big things that happen under the surface that aren’t seen. They add up while no attention is being paid to them. They’re what will make the last six years feel like they never existed if I let them.
“What are your plans today?” I ask, making sure to inject a very business-like tone into my voice. We need boundaries here. I do not want to see any more of his little things.
He takes his time answering me. Time he spends messing with my boundaries without even trying, damn him. “What should my plans be?”
“That is the smartest thing you’ve said today. They should be taking yourself outside to do some reading while I work inside.”
He nods. I ignore the way his lips kick up at the ends. “I’m reading outside.”
“Good.”
With that, I finish my stretches and go inside, heading straight for the kitchen to make coffee. It’s going to be a long day and I’m going to need a lot of caffeine to get through it.
8
Jack
I eye Jessica through the glass doors of my house as I rearrange one of the outdoor chairs and put my feet up. She’s pacing behind the dining table, holding her phone in front of her, engaging in what looks like verbal warfare. I imagine Ashton on the other end of that call and can clearly picture the expression on his face. No one stands up to him like Jessica does, and while I know it causes him headaches at times, I also know he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Goddamn, I’ve missed this woman.
She’s changed over the last six years. In ways I fucking love. Not that I didn’t love everything about her while we were together, but she’s stronger now, and there’s nothing I like more than seeing her hold her own.
My phone sounds with a text.
Constance: Talk to me, Jack.