Page 90 of Timid (Lark Cove 2)

He chuckled. “I’d put my money on you.”

We both knew that was total crap. I’d never gotten violent before in my life. But I wouldn’t turn down the chance to punch Jackson’s mother in the face—or at least nod along as Hazel said some not-so-nice things.

“I’m sorry for spilling everything to my parents without asking,” I told him.

“I get it. You were upset and needed to talk. I’m just not used to sharing.”

“I know.”

“But I’m glad you did.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “Feels kind of good to have the Doon family in my corner. And I think your mom is right. I need to do this on my terms. I don’t want to keep waiting for her to show back up again.”

“Do you, um . . . want me to go with you?” I wanted to be there for him, but I also understood if this was something he had to do alone.

“Would you?”

I nodded. “I’m there.”

“Thanks, babe.” He kissed my forehead again. “Maybe we can go down this afternoon. I need a nap first. I feel like shit.”

“I could use a nap too. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

“That’s my fault. Sorry.”

I patted his leg. “It’s done. After breakfast, we’ll crash for a while, then wake up and start the day fresh.”

“Sounds like a plan. Though I need to work in a shower somewhere in there.”

I winked. “I’m sure we could arrange that.”

A spark of heat hit his eyes. “I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now.”

“Then do.”

“Not until I find a toothbrush,” he grumbled.

I giggled. “Did you know I’ve only been drunk once?”

“No shit?” he asked.

“My friends always told me that when you wake up with a hangover, you feel like a cat took a crap in your mouth. I didn’t understand that until I had too many drinks at a party my freshman year and blacked out.”

“Blacked out?” His mouth turned down. “I don’t like the idea of you drinking so much you blacked out.”

“Me neither.”

Because the night I had gotten drunk had been the night Leighton had been assaulted. Maybe I could have prevented it if I hadn’t guzzled jungle juice for an hour. Maybe it would have been me instead. The two of us had gone over that night time and time again without answers. Finally, we’d agreed to leave it in the past and neither of us had had the desire to drink heavil

y again.

“It was my one and only party,” I told Jackson. “I haven’t been drunk since.”

“I think you’re on to something. I feel like death,” he moaned.

I cupped his stubbled cheek. “I’ll make you feel better.”

“You already did.” With a quick grab, he yanked me out of my chair and into his lap. Then he buried his face in my neck as his arms held me tight.

I closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder as he breathed into my hair. I don’t know how long we sat like that, but I’d almost fallen asleep in his arms when I heard my parents.