Page 15 of What If It Was Us
Before I could counter, Marie cut me off. “Go get changed, we’ll meet you in the car.” She grabbed Jackson’s arm and they both turned to walk down the driveway. Jackson still had my new phone in his hands. They didn’t even give me the option to say no again.
I rushed to my room to change into a hoodie and a pair of black yoga pants. I pulled my hair back into a low bun and put a layer of mascara on my lashes. I didn’t even tie my Converse before running out the front door and sliding into the backseat of Marie’s car.
On the way to their house, Jackson programmed my phone for me, making sure to put his phone number in. “I’m number one in yourfavorites now, too,” he said with a wink. I tried not to blush. I couldn’t even stay mad at him about the party.
He added the restaurant, Mr. and Mrs. Delvecchio, and Julie to my contacts next.
When we got to the house the smell of bacon and eggs hit my senses, and my stomach growled. Julie was at their kitchen table drinking orange juice in her Christmas pajamas, her hair braided into two long French braids down her back. She yelped when she saw me, running over and wrapping me in a hug. “Merry Christmas! What are you doing here?”
“I was forced here against my will,” I said with a giggle. “Thanks for the phone.”
“Of course, of course. I would’ve added you to our family phone plan if I could have.”
Phil was at the stove flipping pancakes, and a tall, broad man with hair as dark as Jackson’s was sitting on the couch watching TV in their family room.
“Let me give you a tour,” Jackson said as he grabbed my arm.
I had never been in their house before, and I tried not to gawk at the open floor plan. The kitchen was the first thing you walked into from the garage—Peter and I didn’t even have a garage at our house.
They had black countertops with white cabinets, and one of those fancy hood fans above the stove. The kitchen was connected to their family room, which had a vaulted ceiling and sleek, black leather couches. There was a floor-to-ceiling window on the far wall, and their entire backyard was wooded, with a playset that I could picture Julie and Jackson playing on for hours as kids.
“That’s Sam,” Jackson said, motioning toward his brother. He looked like the grown-up version of Jackson, with sharp features and a broad chest. I remembered Julie saying he played football, and thatwas apparent by looking at him. He was handsome, but I still thought Jackson was more attractive.
“Samuel,” he said with a nod. He stood up to shake my hand before sitting back down. Jackson rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath about being corrected. I remembered Julie telling me that Samuel was studying law, and I couldn’t help but think that he seemed like a professional lawyer already.
“I’m Addie,” I said back.
I followed Jackson up a staircase to the second floor, which had a balcony looking down on the lower level. We had a bird’s-eye view of Sam on the couch, and Julie, Phil, and Marie in the kitchen. Julie lifted her head from her seat at the table and waved to me. I laughed and waved back. Jackson pointed out each person’s room until we made it to the end of the hallway.
“This one’s mine.” It was the last room on the floor, tucked behind a short corner.
I grabbed the handle and pushed it open. What kind of person was Jackson outside of the restaurant and school? I was filled with anticipation to get to know this side of him.
He had a full-sized bed pushed against the far wall with a messy heap of blankets on top, a dark-blue dresser on the opposite side with different knickknacks on top, and a drum set beside it.
“You play the drums?”
“Sure do,” Jackson said bashfully as he messed with the hair that was laying across his forehead.
“Well, prove it!” I said with a laugh.
“I’ll show you later. Come on, let’s go eat breakfast.” I followed him out of his room, closing the door behind us.
I sat at the table between Julie and Jackson, and Marie stacked my plate with pancakes, eggs, and bacon. I felt like I could burst by thetime we were done eating. The six of us played a game of Monopoly after, then Jackson showed me how to use my phone. He even took a picture of us with the camera and set it as his contact picture. Julie and I posed for him while he took pictures of us, and he even got one of Mr. and Mrs. Delvecchio to set as their contact photo. True to his promise, he let me watch him play the drums until he had sweat running down his temple and had to shower. I wasobsessed.
At the end of the night, his parents and Sam went to sleep, leaving me, Julie, and Jackson in the family room to watch a movie together. Julie was sleeping soundly in the recliner while Jackson and I sat on the couch. I was leaning against the arm rest with my legs stretched out, while Jackson was on the other side, sitting cross-legged. We weren’t touching, but I could almost feel the heat of his thigh next to my toes. We were sharing a blanket, and I had to keep reminding myself to focus on the movie and not the fact that Jackson and I had kissed a week ago. Or the fact that I wanted to do it again.
I felt Jackson’s fingers tentatively touch my ankle, and I swallowed deeply as I struggled to keep my attention on the screen. He slowly crept his hand up the leg of my yoga pants, trailing up my calf, pausing on my kneecap. He started rubbing circles around the top of my knee where it met my thigh. It was taking everything in me not to beg him to put his hand higher, to keep touching more, more,more.
I sneaked a glance over at him, but he was looking at the TV. I noticed the way his chest was moving up and down, breathing deeply while he touched me. I slid an inch toward him, giving him more access to my body. I watched as he swallowed thickly, his hand moving an inch higher, then another inch, only stopping when he reached my mid-thigh. It was physically impossible for him to reach up any higher because of the tight fabric, but the pulsing between my legs was begging for him to try. I placed my hand over his, the thin pieceof material the only thing preventing our hands from touching. He continued rubbing slow circles against my skin, and I lifted my hips slightly. I slid a foot into his lap, and his jaw tightened when I pressed against the hardness between his legs.
“I can’t believe I fell asleep,” Julie said from the recliner, causing both Jackson and I to tense. I turned my head toward where she was stretching out, and Jackson slowly inched his hand out from inside my pants, staring at the TV like nothing was happening beneath the blanket. I pulled my shaking legs away from him, acting like I was readjusting into a more comfortable position.
Julie stood up and rubbed her eyes. “I should probably take you home now, before I get way too tired later.”
I threw off the blanket, not looking at Jackson as I followed her out the door. Jackson didn’t move to join us.
On the way home, Julie played her music at an ear-piercing level to keep herself alert. I was thankful we didn’t have to talk.
