Chat Love (16 page)

“All right, I’ll go,” I say. Inside, I want to squeal with excitement, but I maintain cool composure on my exterior.

His grin reappears. “Great, I’ll pick you up at your apartment?” he suggests.

“No, we can meet at Madison Square Garden,” I say, making a point to avoid ending up alone with him.

His grin grows wider and I am already regretting my decision. This is going to be a long night.

I am rummaging through my clothes, trying to decide what to wear. Since I got home from work, I’ve eaten, showered, and fixed my hair and makeup. Now I’m enjoying a glass of Chardonnay in an attempt to calm my nerves. I have no idea what to wear; I’m struggling with choosing between a skirt, jeans, or a dress. Suddenly I hear the front door open and close as high heels tap their way across the floor.

“Autumn, is that you?” I shout.

“Yeah, I’m home!” she shouts back. A minute later she walks into my closet, where I’m desperately shuffling through blouses. “I thought you were staying in tonight?”

Ignoring her question, I hold up a black dress and a flower print short skirt. “Which one would you wear to a rock concert?”

She wrinkles her nose and answers, “Neither.” She begins looking through my clothes, trying to help me pick an outfit. “Do you have a date tonight?”

I continue searching for an outfit. “No. I’m just going to a concert.”

“Then why do you care what you wear?”

Why
do
I care? It’s just Jackson, after all.
I think to myself. Still, I know that I want to look good, and I beg Autumn to help me choose an outfit.

After Autumn has dressed me in a stylish pair of black skinny jeans, a flower print top, and a matching black blazer, I finally tell her that I’m going to the concert with Jackson. She isn’t too pleased, considering his personality and our history as coworkers, but I assure her multiple times that Jackson Foster will
not
get the best of me. I explain to her that our outing is strictly professional, and I lie and tell her that it has nothing to do with any interest on my part. She seems satisfied and wishes me well on my way out the door.

I purposely arrive five minutes late, in order to make Jackson wonder if I’ve stood him up. I see him standing by the Penn Station entrance, wearing the same outfit he wore to work today. A few girls are already ogling him, and I can tell that he is enjoying the attention he’s getting. For some reason, I feel a pang of jealousy when I see him flirting back.

I walk over to him, swaying my hips and trying my best to appear both confident and sexy. His blue eyes connect with mine as he flashes a small grin.

“Hello,” I say, standing on my toes to lightly kiss his stubbly cheek. I pull back and his eyes are wide with confusion. I turn my head in the direction of the girls and see the envious expressions on their faces; although it shouldn’t, seeing their jealousy brings me satisfaction.

I hear Jackson laughing and I turn back to face him. He leans in close to me, tickling my neck with his stubble.

“Lucia, you’re jealous of those girls, aren’t you?” He grins, causing me to blush. Before I can say anything he’s grabbed my hand and is dragging me inside. I can hear the music pulsing loudly, and my body is tingling with excitement for things to come.

Our seats are located ten rows in front of the stage, strategically placed in the center aisle. Already, I’m impressed. We sit and listen to the opening act, drinking beers and making awkward conversation about music, art, and movies. Oddly enough, we discover that we actually have very similar tastes. As the opening act slowly comes to a close, our conversation continues and I begin to feel as though I’ve peeled away Jackson’s outer layer, revealing a side to him I’ve never known.

We both decide to take a bathroom break before Kings of Leon take the stage, and we go our separate ways, planning to meet back at our seats. As I’m walking out of the bathroom, I consider how I’m having a surprising amount of fun already; I’d honestly expected the evening to feel much more forced. Jackson and I haven’t even mentioned what happened at Danni’s party, and our conversation has been very enjoyable. Still, I know that I’ll probably have to discuss the party at some point during the evening, if I want to have any hope of alleviating the tension that’s been growing between us for the past couple of weeks.

I’m making my way through the crowd when I spot Alan waiting in line at the concessions stand. Not wanting him to see me, I turn around quickly, only to crash into another person and spill their drinks. As I look up to apologize, my eyes widen in shock as I see Kellan staring back at me.

“Lu?” he says, equally as surprised to see me.

We just stare at each other for a minute, both taking in any changes that have occurred since the last time we’d seen each other.

“You look good,” he says. “Or you did before I spilled my drinks all over you, anyway,” he laughs, trying to make the situation a bit less awkward.

I can’t speak. I know that I need to say something, but I’m so shocked and overwhelmed that my mind refuses to formulate sentences. My heart is racing and my throat burns. Suddenly, I feel the weight of a hand on my shoulder and I tense up, afraid that Alan has spotted me.

“What’s going on here?” I am relieved to hear Jackson’s deep voice. I turn and see that he is narrowing his eyes at Kellan, most likely thinking I’m in need of rescuing again.

“That’s none of your business,” Kellan retorts, obviously suspicious of the handsome stranger with his hand on my shoulder.

Jackson takes a step in front of me, crossing his arms across his chest. “It is when it involves Lucia.”

Sensing the increasing tension, I grab onto Jackson’s arm. “Don’t worry, everything is OK. I just bumped into him by accident and his drinks spilled on me. It was my fault, really.”

Jackson looks down at me, his eyes softening. “I didn’t even notice the drinks! Are you OK? You must be freezing—let me buy you a shirt.” He looks at Kellan. “Mate, let me buy you new drinks, too. I’m sorry.”

Kellan stands up straighter. “No thanks, man, I can buy my own drinks.”

I apologize again and pull Jackson away, noticing Kellan’s eyes watching me. We walk past a stand selling shirts and Jackson stops me.

“I told you I’m buying you a shirt,” he says. “Pick one.” I shake my head and thank him for the offer, but he insists. “Just pick a shirt, already. I know you like this band, and if you don’t choose a shirt fast then we’ll miss the show.”

We finally make it back to our seats, now both clad in concert shirts. My flower print shirt is safely stowed in a plastic bag, waiting to be cleaned. Jackson looks just as attractive as before, wearing his shirt proudly underneath his blazer. I feel as though someone is staring at me, and I turn around to see Kellan, standing a few rows back with his arm around a beautiful brunette, glaring at the two of us.

“You OK?” I turn and see Jackson leaning closer to me, looking concerned. He follows my gaze and spots Kellan. “Who is that guy?” he asks.

I run my hands through my hair and sigh. “He’s a guy I used to date.”

Jackson jaw clenches. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

“Not at all,” I answer, only partially telling the truth. “It’s just weird to see him with his fiancé.”

Jackson’s eyes are still on Kellan. “Well, I can tell that he still has feelings for you.”

I correct him, “No, Kellan never had any feelings for me. He was always just out to get what he wanted and nothing more.”

Jackson finally takes his eyes off Kellan and looks at me. “I know it’s hard to see an ex with their new partner, but do you know what helps to make it easier?” he asks.

I lift my beer. “Alcohol?”

“Well, yes, but also showing him that you moved on and don’t give a crap who he’s with,” he answers, grinning.

“And just how do you propose that I show him that?” I ask.

In one swift motion Jackson takes my face in his hands and presses his lips onto mine. The kiss only lasts for a few seconds, but in that brief moment I feel sparks like I have never felt before. My body is tingling—it’s like Christmas, my birthday, New Years, and the Fourth of July all at once.

Jackson pulls away, opening his eyes. He looks at me, trying to judge whether I am angry or not. Apparently he likes what he sees, and he flashes me a grin.

“That’s how you show him. I bet that he’s fuming right now. Just take a look at him if you don’t believe me,” he says, nodding in Kellan’s direction.

I sneak a peek and see that Kellan is glaring at Jackson, red-faced. I turn back to Jackson and we laugh. He winks at me and takes a sip of his beer, still grinning. Just then, the lights dim and the crowd screams, signaling the start of the show as the band enthusiastically takes the stage. But in that moment, all I can think about is the feeling of Jackson’s lips on mine.

The band is performing one of my favorite songs, “Closer.” Between the song, the beer, and the closeness of Jackson, my head is spinning. I look up at him and see that he’s looking back at me, a smile on his face. Without thinking, I lean in and kiss his lips gently. I pull away after a few seconds to see his reaction. His eyes are still closed and the corners of his lips have turned up to form a shy smile. He pulls me closer and I can feel his heart beating quickly in his chest. He lifts my head up gently with his hand and kisses me again, slowly parting my lips with his tongue. My legs begin to feel wobbly, and he senses my weakness and clutches me tighter, bringing me closer to him. I run my fingers through his soft hair and he moans softly, sliding his hands down to my butt and squeezing lightly; now it’s my turn to moan. He pulls his lips away—giving me much needed air—and moves to a spot on my neck, kissing in a way that makes my toes curl. I run my fingers through his hair again, trying my best to stifle the moans that are threatening to escape from my mouth.

But all too soon, the song ends and we pull away from each other, both surprised. I see a glimmer of something in Jackson’s eyes, but I can’t put my finger on it. I try to identify the mystery emotion, wondering what it is. Is it happiness? Smugness? Could it be hope? The band plays another song and the crowd’s cheering distracts me from my thoughts. Jackson and I turn back to face the stage, sipping our beers and enjoying the rest of the show.

As we walk out of Madison Square Garden after the concert, Jackson places his hand on my lower back, guiding me gently. I keep an eye out for both Kellan and Alan, wanting to avoid both of them. When we finally make it outside after being pushed and pulled by the moving crowd, Jackson takes his hand off my back and runs his fingers through his hair.

“So, um, do you want to do something now? Maybe we could go get another drink?”

I look down at my concert shirt and back at him. “In this?”

He gives me a small smile. “Sure, why not? I’ll be wearing mine, too, so we’ll match.”

I bite my lip as I consider my options. I’m not ready for the night to end, and I’ve been having a great time with Jackson. Plus I still want to talk about what’s been happening between us, especially after what had just happened during the show.

“All right,” I say. “Where do you want to go?”

“Well, there are several pubs nearby. Will that be OK with you? We can also get something to eat afterward, if you want.”

“A pub is fine. You lead the way,” I reply.

Jackson hails a cab and we head to an Irish pub that he swears by. During the ride in the cab, we are both quiet, busy looking out the windows and watching the city lights as they pass by. My lips are still tingling from the kiss and I can’t keep myself from hoping that we will kiss again.

We arrive at the pub and Jackson pays the taxi driver. As we exit the cab, he once again places his hand on my lower back, leading me inside. He introduces me to the doorman, the bartenders, and a few other staff members, revealing that he is a regular customer. He chooses a cozy booth in the corner and the bartender quickly sends us each a beer and a shot of Tequila.

“I think your friends are trying to get us drunk,” I say teasingly.

He takes a swig of his beer. “No, they are trying to get
you
drunk. They always try to get pretty birds drunk.”

I feel my cheeks warm up as I blush. I take a sip of my beer. “So how often do you come here?” I ask.

“Well, when I first moved to the States I would come here every night. Everyone is always really relaxed, and it’s just a good place to enjoy good drinks, food, and conversation.” Jackson holds up his shot, signaling for me to do the same. “Cheers,” he says, taking his shot straight while I do the traditional salt and lime routine with mine. I finish my shot and look at Jackson as he chugs the rest of his beer, finishing it off. He gets up quickly.

“I’m going to run to the loo and then get another beer. Do you want one, too?” I nod my head and he leaves. I sip my beer, enjoying the silence.

“Hello,” an unfamiliar voice says.

I look up and see an attractive man standing in front of the booth, swaying back and forth.

“I thought it was wrong for a beautiful girl like you to be sitting here by yourself,” he says with a sloppy grin.

I take another sip of my beer and politely answer, “Actually, I’m not. My date is in the restroom.” Part of me questions why I’m sending him away, as he’s attractive and obviously interested.

“Are you sure? It seems like you would have a better time with me,” he says, flashing that lopsided grin again.

After a few minutes of listening to him try to convince me that he would be better company, I hear Jackson’s husky voice interject.

“The lady is not interested, OK? I think she’s made that pretty clear.” Jackson takes a few steps toward the table, narrowing his eyes, a beer in each hand.

The guy takes the hint and walks away. Jackson sets our beers down on the table and takes his seat in the booth. I mumble my thanks and he just stares at me as if he is trying to figure something out. A few moments of uncomfortable silence pass as I sip my beer.

Finally, he asks, “So what’s the story with your ex?”

“Kellan?” I ask. He nods his head and I explain the painful history of our past relationship. After I finish, I feel my face flush with embarrassment and realize that I am angry at myself for letting Kellan treat me the way that he did. I hear Jackson clear his throat and I look up to see him looking at me softly.