Page 68 of What If It Was Us
“Lake Michigan,” Jackson answered.
“We’ve been on the road for over two hours?” I asked in surprise. I had been asleep for longer than I thought.
“You’ve never been to Holland before, have you?”
I shook my head no. There was a group of teenagers playing sand volleyball, a mom placing her baby’s feet in the water, a dog chasing after a frisbee, and a couple reading books side by side in lawn chairs. It was the perfect day to be out at the beach—not a cloud in the sky.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Jackson said.
I followed him down to the water’s edge, and we both removed our shoes to feel the water. It was colder than I expected, and I jumped back, right into Jackson’s frame. He chuckled at me as he put a hand on each of my elbows.
“Walk slowly,” he whispered in my ear. I leaned my head back against his neck, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath my back.
I didn’t want to think about Sophie coming back in a couple days, or that I had work to do on the house, or that I still had to decide what I was doing with it, or what I would do once I got back to North Carolina. I was going to let myself enjoy this time with Jackson, like there was no one else around.
“I’m used to salt water. I’ve only been in the Atlantic for the past ten years,” I said as I let the tide cover my toes before receding back.
“Unsalted is better; no sharks,” Jackson said against my cheek. I closed my eyes, letting the heat of the sun wash over us.
I didn’t know how long we’d been standing there like that, but I felt one of Jackson’s hands leave my elbow. When I slowly opened one of my eyes against the sun, Jackson had his phone out in front of us, taking our picture.
“What are you taking a picture for?” I asked.
“So I can capture a time you were actually nice to me for once,” he teased.
I went to push away from him with my hand on his chest, but he caught my wrist. We stared at each other for a moment, dragging our eyes over each other’s faces. I looked at his dark hair; there wasn’t a single strand of gray yet. My gaze moved down his forehead to the scar on his eyebrow; the long, curled black eyelashes that fluttered as he blinked; the silver hoop in his nose; the faintest scar above his upper lip; the sharpness of his jaw. Jackson was still the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I wanted him. I still loved him—I knew that now, looking at him this closely. Regardless of everything, Ihadfallen back in love with him. But honestly, had I ever really stopped loving him?
He gave my wrist a light tug, pulling my hips into his. Our faces were only inches apart, but instead of kissing me, he dropped my arm and wrapped me in a hug. His arms were around my neck, and my hands were splayed against his back. His face was in my hair, and my face was buried in his chest, right above his heartbeat. We were in the middle of a beach, the waves splashing over our feet with a thousand other people around us, but the only thing that my mind could produce was,Jackson, Jackson, Jackson. You’re my best friend, period. And I love you, period.
I traced a finger up his spine, feeling the ridges of each vertebra. I was memorizing this moment, and this feeling. Because I didn’t know if I would ever get to feel it again.
A dog ran by us, its fur brushing against our legs and forcing us to disconnect. Jackson looked away, running a hand down his mouth before picking up our shoes, which we had abandoned in the sand.
“Let’s go play mini-golf,” he said before turning around and leaving me no choice but to follow him through the sand.
We left the beach, driving through the town and listening to “Some Protector” by ROLE MODEL. I loved the way he was singing it like it was true—like it was a promise. We arrived at an amusement park that had mini-golf, bumper boats, go-karting, and an arcade. We bought all-day wristbands, even though it was only open for a few more hours.
We rotated between go-karting, bumper boats, playing a round of mini-golf, and then cooling off in the A/C of the arcade before repeating the process.
We were standing in line for the go-karts when the two kids in front of us got turned away for being too short to drive without an adult. We watched as they walked back to their mom—a woman who was in a wheelchair. One of the kids sat down on the ground and started to cry as his mom tried to soothe him. Jackson was slipping under the line barrier and walking toward them before I could ask him where he was going. I looked around quickly before walking back out of line, too.
“Hey, did you guys want to go-kart?” Jackson asked them.
The mom looked up at Jackson, one hand on the head of her son, who was still bawling on the ground.
“We’re not big enough, and no one can ride with us,” the other kid said, standing next to his mom.
Jackson looked at the mom before throwing a thumb in my direction. “We’ve been riding all day; we can take the kids for a round. I have two nephews, and Addie here is a nanny.” He flashed a smile that said,I swear we’re not trying to be creeps.Even I had to admit, he was absolutely charming.
“We have great references,” I added.
Jackson looked over at me like,This isn’t a fucking job interview.I shrugged my shoulders as I cringed at myself.
The kid whose face was buried in his hands looked up at his mom. “Please, Mom? Just once?” She was looking down at him with regret,like she really wanted to say no. We were two strangers, and she had no reason to trust us.
“You can watch us from the gate,” Jackson said as he attempted to ease her apprehension. She looked up at Jackson again, and he shoved his hand toward her. “I’m Jackson, by the way.”
She accepted his hand, and agreed to let the boys go on one race with us. Both boys, who quickly introduced themselves as Elio and Oli, bolted over to the line. We played I spy with them until it was our turn to get in the go-karts.
