A Look Back: Rennillia Series - Prequel (13 page)

Everyone, with the exception of Jackson and I, made their way into the kitchen. Feeling a bit nervous, I stepped a little closer to Jackson’s side.

Reaching down, I slid my hand into his, saying, “You look good.”

With a serious expression, Jackson said, “You…a…” before he nudged me a little, sharing, “I’m kinda sore and you like to hit.”

Not being able to control my smile or the flush on my cheeks, I stepped in front of him, sliding my free arm into his suit jacket and around his waist.

Leaning his head down, he whispered, “You wanna bail on dinner?”

At the moment I did, however, I forced myself to reply, “I can’t.”

“Let’s go in with everybody else before I kidnap you then,” he informed in a low tone.

Smiling, I walked hand in hand with Jackson into the kitchen.

Dinner was pleasant. Mr. Roberts sat at one end while oddly enough Hert sat at the other. Emerson sat at Mr. Roberts’ right, next to his mother and Jackson and I were on his left. Aside from Mr. Roberts sharing, he would be back down in a week for meetings, there was some small talk but nothing important. Since they were leaving first thing in the morning and it was already late when we started dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Roberts excused themselves as soon as Mrs. Roberts forced us to take pictures in various combinations. As the rest of us stayed in the dining room, I felt a little more grown up. While the four of us laughed a little talking about nothing, I wondered if it would be like this when we were all grown up too.

Glancing back and forth between the three of them, I couldn’t imagine my life with one of them missing from it. As a ping of reality struck me, I started to feel sad. My countdown goal seemed to be working against me now. For the longest time, I couldn’t wait to turn eighteen and graduate. Now I wanted to hold on to what I had for as long as possible, feeling as we grew up our time was limited.

Distracting me from my thoughts, Jackson nudged me, saying, “Hey, I need to get going.”

Nodding, I offered, “Do you want me to walk you out?”

Smiling wide, he nodded back and we stood up. Purposely avoiding eye contact as I passed Hert, I could feel his unhappy glare as Jackson walked behind me with his arms around my shoulders.

We only made it a few steps out of the back door before he pulled his jacket and tie off. Appearing happy to be rid of them, Jackson wrapped one arm around my shoulders as we walked to his truck. He opened the driver’s side and tossed the jacket and tie onto the seat. Turning to face me, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.

Smiling wide, Jackson asked, “What time do you want me here tomorrow?”

“I think around noon would be good,” I answered before asking, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Taking a breath, he questioned, “Are we going to sleep together?”

Caught off guard, I started to pull away fussing, “Seriously?”

Smiling, he clarified, “I mean in the same room, tomorrow night.”

Wishing the subject had come up before now, I replied, “I don’t think that would be the best idea.”

Appearing sad, he asked, “Why not?”

Knowing he knew I slept in the same bed with Emerson before, I tried to explain, saying, “Because, you’re my boyfriend.”

As he nodded at me I could tell, although he was disappointed, he could see the difference.

Trying to make him feel better, I smiled before standing on my tippy toes and kissing him. Suddenly his arms were tight around me and he was purposefully kissing me back. Unsure if it was, knowing I made him nervous or the fact that he ask for us to sleep in the same bed with no reference to sex, his kiss felt different. It was making me lose focus and I did not want him to stop. The longer he kissed me, the more it felt deep and meaningful and less like a means to an end. Before I realized it, my arms were just as tight around him as I pressed myself closer.

Keeping his hold on me firm, Jackson barely moved his lips from mine breathing, “Let’s go somewhere.”

Whether it was his kiss, what he said, or the way he said it, my whole body warned me, feeling like it was being turned inside out.

Sliding my hands to his chest, I could feel how fast his heart was beating as I tilted my head away urging, “I think we should call it a night.”

Catching his breath, he said, “I a…I wanna say something to you.”

Worried he was getting braver, since the whole jacket thing, I blurted, “Hey, I’ll think about it okay.”

Giving me a confused look, he blurted, “Huh?”

Wondering myself, what I was thinking saying that, I replied, “Our sleeping arrangements for tomorrow, I’ll think about it.”

“Really?” he questioned with a huge grin.

Nodding, I gave a light smile saying, “Yes, but you need to go home now.”

Hugging me tight he quickly kissed my cheek then my lips. As he let go, I stepped back allowing him to get in his truck and close to door.

Standing there waving at him as he smiled wide, I thought what the hell am I doing? How could I even be considering this? Then I had to smile reminding myself, because he makes me happy and I wanted to make him happy. Turning to walk inside, I thought, maybe this could work. My rule of no sex was not up for negotiation but there were other things I might be willing to compromise on. After all, he was my boyfriend and none of my flaws seemed to scare him in anyway. Satisfied with my decision and still a bit tingly from his kiss, I pranced in the back door.

Instantly giving me a dirty look Hert left the kitchen. Shrugging his shoulders, Emerson gave me a sympathetic smile as he and I made our way past Hert in the living room and up the stairs. In Emerson’s room, I washed my face and brushed my teeth. After thoroughly brushing out my hair, I grabbed my pillow, the hoodie, and a blanket, hugged Em goodnight and headed back downstairs. Not wanting the Roberts to get the wrong impression about me, I was sleeping downstairs on the couch. I assumed Hert would take the guest room. Apparently not.

As soon as I saw Hert, I snapped, “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

Without a word, he got up and moved to the chair.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I fussed, “There’s no need for you to keep glaring at me.”

“You need to stop and think about what you’re doing,” he stated.

Shaking my head, I griped, “What am I doing?”

As if he couldn’t believe I was asking, he snapped, “With Jackson.”

“What?” I snapped back.

Shaking his head at me, he said, “Look, Jackson’s not a friend but he’s not a bad guy either, if he could keep his hands to himself that is. I get that you’re into him or whatever but have you once stopped to think what being with you is going to do to him?”

I could feel myself frowning as I asked, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” he insisted before saying, “He’s not like us. He has a nice family and whatever effect he has on you, you’re going to have the opposite on him.”

Finding it hard to argue with the sincerity in his logic, I said, “You don’t know that.”

Nodding, he raised his eyebrows stating, “Yes I do,” then questioned, “Ya’ll have been together only a few weeks, how many problems have ya’ll had so far? How many fights? And how many of those were from his side?”

I felt a little sick as the reality of his words invaded my self-esteem.

Lying down on the couch, I curled up in the blanket after zipping Jackson’s hoodie around me. I wasn’t sad because of what Hert said, I was sad because I knew what he said was true. Recalling the look on Jackson’s face when he saw my bruises, how upset he was when my father made me give him his jacket back, and each time he was unhappy. Aside from the misunderstanding on our first date, all he had done was try to get closer to me. I didn’t want to talk to Hert anymore about it and even though I knew curling up with Emerson would make me feel better, I couldn’t do that either. My relationship with Jackson was suddenly complicated and I was no longer under the delusion that it would work out.

Chapter 17

At six thirty in the morning, Hert woke me from my not so restful sleep. I ran upstairs to brush my teeth just in time to make it back downstairs before a caravan of people made their way into the house and up the stairs to collect the Roberts’ belongings. The caravan left, as quickly as they arrived, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Roberts standing in the living room to tell us goodbye. There were no hugs or I’ll miss you's, only handshakes and polite nods, then they were gone. I sat on the couch, noticing the whole process of the Roberts leaving only took an hour.

Glancing at Emerson, I asked, “Can I go lay down in your room?”

“Sure,” he replied with a soft smile.

Slightly smiling back, I purposely ignored Hert as I made my way to Em’s room. Curling up in his bed, I instantly fell back asleep.

Hours later, I woke fully rested just like every other time I had slept in Emerson’s room. I rebrushed my teeth, pulled up my hair and changed my clothes. Carrying my shoes and Jackson’s hoodie downstairs, I looked around the living room. Finding it empty, I stepped into the kitchen and found Emerson and Hert sitting at the kitchen table.

Hert gave me a strange look as Emerson informed, “You missed breakfast.”

Shrugging, I laughed, “That’s okay,” before I glanced at the clock asking, “Where’s Jackson?”

“I am going to pick him up in a few minutes,” Em shared.

Confused, I asked, “Why are you picking him up?”

Emerson explained, “His truck broke down last night. He called this morning and said he tried to get it running but the part he needs will not be in until Monday. I told him I would pick him up.”

I quickly glared at Hert before asking, “Do you mind if I just go get him?”

Apparently my question made him laugh as he replied, “I didn’t have my heart set on going.”

Laughing back, I said, “Can you move your car? You’re behind me.”

“You can take mine,” he offered.

Shocked, I questioned, “Are you sure?”

Handing me the keys, Emerson laughed, “It’s just a car Ren.”

I thought to myself, ‘yea a really nice expensive car’ as I took his keys and ran upstairs to grab my bag.

Sitting down at the table, I slid my shoes on. Hopping back up, I thought picking Jackson up by myself might give me a chance to talk to him about our relationship. After what Hert said last night, I realized, I had way more to think about then our sleeping situation.

Before I made it out of the door, Hert griped, “You’re going like that?”

Glancing down at myself, I replied, “Am I naked and don’t realize it?”

I could tell Em wanted to laugh as Hert fussed, “You might as well be.”

Rolling my eyes at him, I knew my shorts were a little on the short side but it was warm outside and rare that I didn’t have to cover up when going in public.

Narrowing his eyes at me, Hert snapped, “Did you give any thought to what I said?”

“Sure did,” I spouted before saying, “And the only one that has a problem is you,” as I picked my bag up off of the chair and walked out of the back door.

I walked past the garage to the driveway and opened the driver’s side of Emerson’s car. As I slid in I admitted to myself, although I had thought about what Hert said, aside from feeling bad about myself, I hadn’t put thought into it.

Taking the opportunity to think things over as I drove to Jackson’s, I decided anything between me and Jackson should stay between the two of us. Hert may have been right but it was none of his business. I strongly disagreed with his sort of relationship with Carmella but aside from not wanting him to get himself in a bind with her, I didn’t give him a hard time about it. Still, I couldn’t get what Hert said out of my mind. Trying to shake off his assumption, that I was going to ruin Jackson’s life, I hoped seeing him, happy, would make me feel more secure in our relationship.

Pulling into the Thomas’s driveway, I was suddenly nervous. Remembering Mr. and Mrs. Thomas were leaving first thing this morning for an anniversary weekend, I hadn’t thought about Jackson and I alone in his house. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the car and walked to the door. Taking a moment to think, I decided the best way to keep things simple would be to catch him off guard for a change.

Ringing the doorbell five times in a row, I heard his muffled voice shout, “Its open!”

Smiling to myself, I continued to ring the doorbell as many times as possible until Jackson hollered, “Damn it Roberts, what the hell…” as the door flew open. Stopping the moment he saw me, I smiled wide at him. He must have been in the middle of getting ready. I couldn’t help feeling a bit overcome. He stood in front of me in a white wife beater undershirt, basketball shorts, smiling wide with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. Why did he have to be so damn cute? I handed him his hoodie as he stepped to the side for me to walk in. Unable to talk with a mouth full of toothpaste he wrapped an arm around me and gave me a little squeeze. Shaking his head at me with a laugh, he walked back to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.

Sticking to my plan, I looked around and asked, “Oh, is that your room?” pointing to the little room next to the bathroom.

As he nodded, I shared, “Ok, I’m going to go rummage through your belongings.”

Not taking the time to wait for his expression, I pranced into his room.

Giving his room a once over, I saw stacks of books in various places. There was a pile of dirty clothes in the corner next to an empty hamper and his dresser was cluttered with papers and notebooks. He had a twin size bed that had a green and black plaid comforter bunched up on it. With no other place to sit, I decided if I made his bed, I would feel more comfortable being on it. After quickly tending to the chore he should have done when he woke up, I sat at the head of his bed. Glancing down at his nightstand that was also cluttered, I picked up a class ring brochure. At a different angle now, I saw a letterman jacket hanging on his wall by the door. One arm was covered with academic patched while the other basketball ones. It looked brand new, and I wondered if he had ever worn it.

Slipping off my shoes, I stretched my legs out in front of myself and leaned against his headboard, flipping through the little class ring catalog.

“You weren’t kidding,” Jackson laughed as he walked in.

Looking over at him, I noticed he had his hoodie on, before I informed, “It looked like this when I came in. You’re messy.”

Flashing a smile as if he was proud of that, he blurted, “And you made my bed?”

Nodding, I flashed a smile of my own, saying, “There is nowhere to sit in here and I figured it was better to be on your bed then in it.”

Shaking off his smile, Jackson walked right over and stretched out on the bed next to me. Sliding his hand behind my back, he rested his head on my lap as he relaxed his other arm across my legs.

I had to hold my breath for a minute to keep from overreacting. It wasn’t what he was doing, that bothered me, it was the way it was making me feel. As I gathered my thoughts, I assured myself this was okay.

Jackson broke the silence, quietly asking, “Did you decide about tonight?”

Forcing myself to be honest with him, I replied, “I kinda got side tracked, but I’m thinking about it.”

Nodding into my legs, I felt his fingers drag across my shin as he whispered, “Okay.”

My stomach was knotting up and I knew there was no way I could spend the night in the same bed with him and only sleep. Thinking, I could disappoint him later, I pretended to keep looking at the brochure.

Then, making me feel even more nervous, Jackson shared, “I’ve never had a girl in here before.”

“Had or HAD?” I asked trying to sound nonchalant.

Circling my knee with his finger, he whispered, “Neither.”

Mentally pleading, don’t do this to me, I changed the subject asking, “Why don’t you wear your letterman?”

“'Cause I like my hoodie,” he shrugged.

Without thinking, I blurted, “Thought you loved it,” before I felt his smile on my legs.

Irritated with myself, I decided to pretend I didn’t just say that and continue.

“So, you’re getting a class ring?” I asked.

Jackson was back to brushing his fingers against my shin, as he replied, “Umhmm.”

“Which one are you getting?” I asked.

With a little sigh, he replied, “On page four, ring 2a,” before asking, “Do you like it?”

“Aren’t they all pretty much the same,” I replied, flipping to see the one he wanted.

“Yea, but you’ll be the one wearing it,” he informed in a soft tone.

Shocked, I blurted, “What?!”

Sliding his hand up the side of my leg, he rested it on my stomach as he leaned his head back looking at me.

Looking down at him, I couldn’t make sound come out of my mouth. He was asking me to wear his ring months before he even got it. Why was he doing this? How long did he plan on us being together? How long did I plan on us being together? Not having thought of our future, at least not in terms of more than a week or two in advance, I knew we needed to talk.

Before I could discourage him from that kind of thing, Jackson offered, “Unless you wanted a promise ring or something like that.”

I mentally shouted ‘No! No! No!’ as I whispered, “What would you be promising?”

Sliding up, so he was sitting next to me, he declared, “Everything.”

My initial panic was instantly soothed as he softly kissed me.

Placing my hand on the side of his face as he pulled away, I breathed, “Jacks.”

I meant to stop him but when he pressed his lips back against mine, I realized, I didn’t want to.

We sat there kissing each other for a while before Jackson started testing the waters. Starting at my side, he slid his hand under my shirt, resting it just below my ribs, without advancing further. For whatever reason, this made me want to mimic his action. As I slid my hand into his jacket, I rested it on his side.

When he started to fidget, I whispered, “It’s okay.”

That was all it took for Jackson to slide us both down and pull me tight against him. Kissing me rather aggressively at first, it wasn’t long before he slowed down. Softer now, he was barely kissing me.

His voice was low as he urged, “Please, I’ll go slow.”

I couldn’t say no and there was no way I could say yes. Then out of the blue, Hert’s suggestion popped into my mind. There was no way he would continue to tolerate this and what if we ended up parting on bad terms because of it. If I did sleep with him and we broke up, it would be devastating. Desperate not to lose him but unwilling to compromise or make him keep suffering though our relationship, I panicked.

Quickly thinking of things to say, I was confused and scared.

The only thing I could come up with to keep him was, “I think we should just be friends.”

Keeping his arms around me, Jackson scooted back slightly, asking, “Are you breaking up with me?”

Shaking my head, I mumbled, “Kinda.”

Appearing very unhappy, he questioned, “You either are or you’re not. What’s kinda?”

My eyes started to well up with tears as I said, “It’s just… I can’t...”

Suddenly sympathetic, he assured, “Don’t cry. I’m sorry. We don’t have to. I just got caught up, I guess.”

Pulling away from him, I sat up saying, “I can’t be your girlfriend.”

With a wounded expression Jackson argued, “You can’t or you don’t want to?”

“I like you, I really do but that is what you want and I don’t,” I replied.

Shaking his head, he blurted, “So!”

Getting a better handle on myself, I imparted, “So, one of us is going to have to change to make this work and I like us both the way we are.”

Sitting up, he turned his back to me saying, “You can go back to Roberts’ now.”

“You’re not coming?” I griped.

Quickly on his feet he questioned, “You still want me to go?”

Slowly making my way to him, I shared, “Yes, I really want us to be friends,” as he gave me a skeptical look, I explained, “I’ll miss you if we’re not and besides this way we can hang out and have fun then you can go out on dates and do whatever.”

Cringing a little at the thought, I wasn’t ready for that but if it meant we were still good, I could get over it.

Placing his hands on the sides of my face he asked, “Can I still kiss you?”

With a light smile, I nodded before turning my head and pointing to my cheek.

“Ah, I’m banished to the cheek,” he fussed with a slight laugh.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I asked, “So are we good?”

Nodding, he said, “Yea, we’re good.”

Happy, I smiled wide.

Jackson packed a bag and we headed to Emerson’s. On the way I thought about all the things I would miss about being his girlfriend. The more I thought about what all I would miss, the more I realized other than kissing him, it wouldn’t be that different.

Breaking the silence of our car ride, I shared, “I’m glad you’re good with being my friend,” as we pulled in front of Emerson’s house.