Page 13 of What If It Was Us
When Jackson and I stepped into the closet, we just stared at each other in the dark for a moment until our eyes adjusted. There were at least three feet between us, and it felt like we were daring each other to close the distance. I expected him to say we didn’t have to do this—that it was a silly game, and nobody actually expected us to kiss.
“So, how do we do this?” he asked as he took a step toward me.
What!?
My heart was ricocheting in my chest like a damn pinball machine. “You’ve kissed someone before, right?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.
Jackson let out a small laugh. “Nope, have you?”
I shook my head. Jackson hadn’t had his first kiss either? Considering he could probably ask out any girl he wanted and she would say yes, this came as a shock. “Um, I don’t know, what do they do in the movies?”
He took another hesitant step toward me, and I watched as he lifted his right hand to cup my neck. “Something like this, right?” His voice came out in a whisper. His hand was warm, and the sensation traveled throughout my entire body. He held my face with such confidence. Every nerve ending in my body lit up, and I knew I’d never recover. There was no way I could get rid of my crush now. We were about to have our first kiss together—something we would share forever.
“Yep, that seems good,” I whispered back. I stared up at him, and I swear, the look in his eyes was telling me he wanted this; game or not, he wanted to kiss me. He rubbed his thumb against the length of my jaw, and I felt like I was slipping into a pot of boiling water. Bubbles popped and burst in my stomach, spreading out into every limb.
He swallowed deeply. “Okay, then. Are you ready?” I nodded slowly, and then his face was so close to mine I could feel his breath against my lips. I could smell the beer he just drank, and I wanted to taste it for myself. We stayed like that for a moment—his nose against mine, his lips a hairsbreadth away.
“I’m nervous,” I whispered against his lips.
“I’m not,” Jackson said before breaking the distance.
His lips were on mine in an instant. I couldn’t help the sound that came from the back of my throat. I reached forward to fist his T-shirt in my hands, and he angled my face upward to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue into my mouth. Oh my god, I had to thank the person who suggested playing this game. Seven minutes in heaven just became my new favorite game.
His other hand pulled at my waist, pressing my hips flush against his, and every graze of his fingers against my skin made me crave more. I wanted his shirt gone. I wanted to see the freckle that I knew sat on his left collarbone. I wanted my shirt gone, too, I just wanted Jackson’s skin against mine. I wanted more than kissing.
I got lost in the kiss. The only thing my brain could process wasJackson, Jackson, Jackson.My mind drifted back to the first day I met him, when he crawled over me in the truck and his hair brushed against my forehead. That was it, I realized suddenly. That was the moment that he’d lodged himself in my brain, and he’d been living there ever since.
Three loud bangs against the door caused us to flinch away from each other, our eyes wild as reality settled back in. At some point I must’ve run my hands through Jackson’s hair; it was sticking out in every different direction. I wiped a finger against my lips, and a shiver ran through me when I remembered the sensation of Jackson moving his mouth against mine. I could still taste the beer from his tongue.
“What the hell are you guys doing? It’s been almost fifteen minutes! Eight-minute penalty!”
“Oh my god,” slipped out of Jackson’s mouth as we both scrambled to fix our hair before busting out of the closet.
I giggled when I saw the group of wide-eyed people standing outside the door.
“What were you guys doing in there?” someone asked.
I opened my mouth to answer, but Jackson cut me off. “Nothing, we were just talking about how stupid this game is.”
My eyes snapped up to his, but he wouldn’t look at me. I wanted to tell everyone that he was a fucking liar. Was he embarrassed that we kissed? Or embarrassed that he liked it? He was the one that wanted to follow through with the game!
I didn’t say anything. Instead, I mumbled something about having to use the bathroom, then I ran upstairs and out the front door.
That was the first time Jackson ever hurt me—and it wouldn’t be the last. It was just the beginning.
***
I paced up and down the block, replaying the kiss over and over again in my head. The way Jackson said he wasn’t nervous, then grabbed my hip and pulled me toward him. Why did he have to act like a jerk after?
Snow had begun to fall around me, and I wrapped my arms tighter around myself.
“Jesus, Addie, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
I turned around to find Jackson walking up behind me, pulling the hood of his jacket over his head to block the snow.
“I said I had to use the bathroom,” I said lamely as I continued my walk. I had this entire block memorized from how long I had been walking. Five houses to the end of the block one way, ten the opposite way to loop around the cul-de-sac.
“Yeah, and you never came back. I sat outside the door for thirty minutes before I realized nobody was in there.”
