Page 86 of Timid (Lark Cove 2)

“Jackson.” Willa pulled her elbow free and stopped at my side. “What are you talking about? You’ll call me tomorrow or something? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just like it sounds,” I snapped. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Or sometime. I don’t know. I’ll see you around.”

She frowned, stepping closer to touch my arm. “Don’t do this. Don’t push me away because of what happened today. If you want to talk about things, I’ll listen. If you don’t, then we don’t have to. But shoving me out the door and saying you’re going to call me ‘tomorrow or something’ isn’t the answer. Let me help you.”

“Then what is the answer, Willa? Huh? Because you didn’t seem to be helping me much when you were flirting with that guy earlier.”

“Flirting?” She stepped back, her forehead furrowed. “What are you talking about? I wasn’t flirting with that guy.”

“Sure looked like it to me.”

“He told me a joke and I laughed. I might not be as experienced as you, but even I know that’s not flirting.”

“Whatever.” I walked to the door and pushed it open.

Willa stared at me for a moment, frozen to her spot. She couldn’t believe I was kicking her out either.

“Jackson,” she whispered, pain crossing her beautiful face.

“Night, Willa.”

She stared at me, tears sheening her eyes, until finally she dropped her gaze to the floor and hurried outside to the dark, deserted parking lot.

I stood in the doorway watching as she jogged to her car, making sure she got inside safely and onto the highway to go home.

“Fuck,” I hissed. My hands fisted at my sides. “Fuck!” My shout disappeared into the night.

I’d made Willa cry all because I didn’t know how to deal with the emotions swirling in my head.

I went right back inside for my keys, bringing them back to lock up, then went straight to the liquor bottles. I didn’t care that there was a dirty tumbler on the center table or bottles next to the pool table. Fuck the pint glass that douchebag had been drinking from while he’d sat by Willa.

Fuck it all.

Fuck the feelings, all of them. I’d burn them away.

I popped the pour spout off a bottle of tequila and put it right to my lips to chug.

The tequila became an eraser.

I didn’t want to remember Mom’s face or her voice. I didn’t want to remember how alone I’d felt when she’d abandoned me.

I didn’t want to remember Willa’s eyes full of tears.

I didn’t want to remember any of it, so I gulped down some more booze, shot after shot.

Walking home wasn’t an option. I’d pass Willa’s staircase and there was no way I’d be able to resist going to her soft bed. I wouldn’t be able to resist pulling her into my arms and falling asleep with my nose buried in her hair.

So I didn’t walk home.

I got drunk and passed out on the pool table knowing that I’d just fucked up the best thing that had ever happened to me.

“What do you think?” I asked Dad.

Dad sighed. “I think you just need to be patient. I don’t agree with how he reacted, but I do understand.”

After Jackson had kicked me out of the bar last night, I’d come home only to toss and turn for hours. I hadn’t slept as I’d replayed things over and over. None of it made sense, so I’d come to Mom and Dad’s first thing this morning for some coffee and advice.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” I didn’t care what Jackson had said, I had not been flirting with that guy at the bar. I didn’t even know how to flirt.