A Perfect Fit

25

Isabelle

The rest of the dinner conversation diverts to mundane topics, and whilst Jackson is a smooth talker per usual, I can tell that there's something bothering him.

I can't help but replay the words he said to my mom. The fierce, but also protective look that had crossed his face. That look which I've now seen several times—at the reunion, at the gas station when we ran into Ivy, and then in Washington when Oliver showed up.

No one (aside from Jen) has ever stood up for me like that in front of my mom, or anyone, really.

Then, in a shocking turn of events, my mom had actually displayed a streak of remorse. I'm trying to put myself in her shoes and believe that she has good intentions. However, she could have been more mindful of her language instead of leaving me feeling like I was just...nothing.

By the time dinner is over, the storm has worsened with no sign of stopping or slowing down, and the news is full of warnings urging residents to stay indoors.

"Well, you three should probably all stay here overnight," Mom states, turning to Jackson, Ivy, and me.

That sounds like a sensible plan. However, the problem is there's only one spare bedroom in my parents' house—after Ivy and I moved out, Mom and Dad converted our old bedrooms into a home office for them each.

"I was about to say the same," Dad adds, before turning to my sister. "Since Jackson and Belle are together, they could have the guest bedroom, and perhaps Ivy you could take the couch tonight if you don't mind?"

Jackson and I exchange a glance, and he looks like he's trying to bite back a cheeky smile.

I don't mind having to share a room with Jackson at all, but given what had happened in Washington, this could potentially go in one of two ways.

At the same time, Ivy plasters on a smile, but I can tell she's definitely not pleased about Dad's suggestion. "No problem at all, Dad. I'm happy to make that sacrifice," she responds, placing extra emphasis on the word 'sacrifice'.

Is it bad if I say I'm secretly not mad about her having to sleep on the couch?

"Fantastic," Dad nods, and turns to Jackson and me with a wink. "Well, that's settled then."

"Thanks for your hospitality," Jackson smoothly says.

"Yes, thank you," I add.

Ten minutes later, I'm standing inside the guest bedroom with my dad and Jackson, and with my old Snoopy t-shirt and shorts in my hands.

"You'll find new toothbrushes, toothpaste, and towels in the bathroom," Dad tells us. "There's also a second set of blankets inside the closet."

"Great, thanks Dad," I smile.

Dad grins at the both of us. "Well, I'll leave you both to it. If you need or can't find anything, feel free to let me know."

"Will do, thanks so much again Karl," Jackson replies, returning the smile.

After Dad walks off, Jackson closes the bedroom door, leaving the two of us alone. 

I take a deep breath and gesture toward the ensuite bathroom. "Hey, so did you want to go shower first or should I go first? I don't mind either way."

A tiny smirk permeates Jackson's lips. "I have a third option."

"Which is?" I slowly ask, afraid of what he might say.

He takes a step closer toward me, mischief glimmering in his brown eyes. "We jump into the shower together."

A vivid image of Jackson standing inside the shower, with droplets of water streaming down his perfectly toned body instantly conjures in my mind. I imagine myself standing in the shower with him, our bodies—