Page 71 of What If It Was Us
His eyes bounced around my face, like he was trying to memorize every second of this moment before he shook his head and whispered, “You’re my best friend, period. And I love you, period.”
I was on top of him and pressing my lips to his before I could overthink what he was saying. My mind was fuzzy from the wine, but I was almost one hundred percent positive that my best friend was saying he was in love with me.
His fingers tangled in my hair, and I could feel him growing beneath me with each rock of my hips. He pulled my head back to look at me. “I’ve wanted to kiss you like this since freshman year in that closet.” And then his lips were on mine again, frenzied and impatient as I held onto his shoulders.
He flipped us so I was on my back on the dining room carpet, and he was above me. His voice came out strangled as two of his fingers started to slip beneath my waistband. “Can I please touch you, Addie?”
“Yes, yes, please,” I said breathlessly. His hand slipped between my thighs, and when he felt me, he groaned against my lips as I tried to catch my breath from everything that was happening. I was finally kissing Jackson again—this was real.
“Don’t stop touching me,” I begged. I couldn’t live a life without his hands on me again.
“I knew you’d feel this good,” Jackson murmured against my lips.
I moaned as I rocked against his hand, pleading for more of him.
“Tell me you want me, too, Addie. You want me, too, right?”
“Yes, yes I want you, Jackson.” I barely recognized my own voice as I worked to get his shirt off. He never took his hand away from me, and his shirt stayed pooled around his right wrist. Something about him refusing to stop touching me to even fully take off his shirt made a wave of pleasure roll through me. Jackson wanted me. Since our first kiss, Jackson had wanted me just as much as I’d wanted him.
“I love you, Addie. I love you so fucking much,” Jackson said as he kissed down my neck and then back up my jaw to find my lips again.
“I love you, too, Jackson.” Of course I did. I placed my right hand on his shoulder, rubbing his collarbone with my thumb and tracing the freckle that I’d dreamed about touching for the past four years.
He tried to get my shirt off with his left hand, never removing his right from its place inside me. I ripped my own shirt off, and his hand slipped under my bra immediately to touch me.
My fingers worked on the buttons of his work pants. I had just gotten them unclasped and unzipped when the back door in the kitchen opened.
“Shit,” Jackson and I said in unison as we scrambled to get off the floor, kicking over the open wine bottle in the process. His shirt fell off his arm, and as we tried to throw each other our work polos, we mixed them up.
We fumbled to get dressed and I ended up putting on his oversized shirt while he squeezed into mine. We turned around at the same time as Julie walked into the dining room.
“It’s always fuckin’ Jules,” Jackson mumbled as we stood frozen, facing her.
Her eyes bounced back and forth between the two of us until she registered the situation. She let out a groan. “Seriously guys? The one time I try to surprise you? Do you ever listen to me?” Julie mimed a gag. “Button your fucking pants, Jackson.”
My eyes flew to his crotch, finding the zipper and button still undone, my shirt halfway tucked into his waistband.
“And fix your hair, Addie,” Julie added.
My entire body was on fire—not just from the embarrassment of Julie walking in on us the only two times we had ever hooked up at therestaurant, but because my body was still reeling from each point of contact that Jackson’s hands and lips had made a minute ago.
I reached for my hair, finding a tangle of knots at the base of my head where my hair had bunched up on the carpet, and at least half my hair had fallen out of my ponytail. I rushed with flimsy fingers to fix it.
“You guys just couldn’t help yourselves, could you?” Julie snapped, all the fun and jokes of her previous tone gone.
“It doesn’t fucking matter anymore, Miss Cali,” Jackson shot back. My eyes cut to him. Did it not matter because he and Sophie were broken up? Or because soon we would leave this town and never look back?
“What isthatsupposed to mean?” Julie crossed her arms as her eyes flicked between the two of us.
“None of your business.” Jackson’s eyes looked like a fire had been lit within them—and not the kind that burned for me. The kind that wanted to burn this entire place to the ground.
I watched them argue; Julie saying he was ruining everything, calling Jackson an idiot repeatedly, and him shouting back, calling her a bitch and a princess.
I hadn’t even realized I was covering my ears until Jackson pried my hands away from my head and told me it was time to go.
We said our goodbyes to Julie, and she gave me a wary look when I told her I’d see her at graduation tomorrow. We switched our shirts back in the parking lot before we got in our separate cars and drove off in opposite directions.
Chapter 33
