Before Sunday

Fifteen

8:08 PM

The speakers wired throughout Jackson's house pump soft, soulful lyrics into the air. He'd been laying there, listening to music...waiting... for me. Even when he's sick, he still looks so beautiful. He's in grey sweatpants and a tight fitting white sleeveless top, the ink from that tattoo swirling across the skin of his arm. His hair is messy with sweat but perfect, his eyes have the slightest redness to them. They look as if they've seen a million things in his lifetime, all of them producing a vast sense of wonder. When they settle on mine, if I didn't know better, I'd swear he could see through to my soul. The brow decorated in steel turns downward at the same time his voice, drops low. "What did you say?"

"I said I think I'm falling in love with you," I repeat. "Madly." The words have the same effect on me as the slightest brushing of his fingertips against my skin, the feel of his lips on mine—butterflies ignite—aflame in my belly. "I love you, Jax." I giggle. A combination of nerves and some kind of sweet relief to just say it. To allow myself to mean it.

He doesn't take his eyes off of mine, but I can see the smile stretch across his mouth. "Are you sure about that, Angel? You can't even keep a straight face when you say it."

I place my palm on the side of his face. "I've never been more sure about anything."

Jackson moves his body, flipping himself up and over and suddenly, I'm underneath him; both of us tented by the blanket. I look up at him. The way his body flexes, the way his muscles shift with each movement. Those incredible eyes, that mouth, all of it—gifted to me.

I bring the tip of my finger to the top curve of his shoulder, tracing my nail down along the intricate curves of the cogs, gears and clocks.

Jackson's eyelashes sweep closed and he inhales, making no attempt to hide what my touch does to him. They fan back open and he looks at my face. "You're my everything. I'd wait a lifetime to hear you say that. I love you, Lola. I loved you the moment I saw you and every moment since then. I'll love you until the world is all out of moments to offer, even after that."

Holy shit. I may as well surrender my panties.

"Jackson?"

"Yeah?"

Before I can second guess myself, I say it. "I want to be with you. I want to give myself to you. Completely." Every logical fuse in my brain skips, allowing my heart to do the talking. I don't care if I've only met him. I need him. Same way I need food, water, air. This is right where I'm supposed to be. "I am so in love with you." I want to shout it, scream it, allowing myself to get used to how the words roll off of my tongue.

"I'm yours," he says, "forever."

I slip my hands underneath the cotton fabric of his shirt, allowing my fingers to trace the planes of his abdomen. I lift my head off of the couch enough to place my mouth on his. He kisses me back and whether he does it knowingly or not, his body closes the small amount of space between us. I run my hands up his stomach and over his chest before I switch direction and move them back down toward the waistband of his pants.

Jackson groans without breaking the kiss. His mouth vibrates against mine and somehow, even that is a turn on. His mouth covers mine, fierce and demanding and then suddenly, it's gone. "We should stop, Lola. I need you to be sure."

I shake my head in protest. "No. I don't want to stop. I've never been more sure of anything. Please."

His eyes widen slightly as he rests his weight on one arm, bringing his other up to rake through his hair. "Lola."