I leaned against a large boulder a bit off the path, my mind racing.
“There was also that thing with Jay and Rashid. Didn’t Derrick and Isaac show up for some event and they weren’t there? They thought the function was moved to another date. Oh, and,” my voice raised excitedly as everything began to click into place. “A few weeks ago Analise had several things deleted from her schedule, and that sex education podcast we were thinking of bringing into the company… it was a hot mess when they visited. Their hotel reservation was canceled, their Uber never showed up at the airport… that kind of stuff.”
Jackson crossed his arms, his short sleeves rolled up over his forearms. I stared at them, an image of his arms around me flashing in my mind.
Since the night of the unfortunate incident, I’d had a warm and familiar feeling in my belly when I was with Jackson. Like after you spend all night staying up chatting with someone. My body had a deeper connection with him but my conscious mind didn’t remember why.
“When we get back, let’s write down everything we can think of,” I said, shaking the strange feeling away. “Every little mishap. I can think of a dozen right now.”
We reached the summit and sat on a patch of grass overlooking the valley.
“I feel good.” He stretched his arms above his head, then handed me a water bottle from his bag. “We have a plan and I think we’re getting close to the answer.”
The warm wind tickled my cheek and I soaked in the beauty; the mountain range, the valley below, the sun above, and Jackson by my side.
Another vignette flashed in my mind—Jackson’s face close, heavy breathing, hearts pounding.
“What happened the night of the Fourth of July party?” I blurted, overpowered by the feelings coursing through me.
He stilled next to me.
“I thought you’d be sick of talking about it by now.”
Not an answer, I noted.
“I don’t mean at the party. I mean what happened when we got back to your apartment?” I gulped down the water.
Jackson was gazing at the treetops below, but a tendon in his cheek flexed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if we were still hiking up the mountain.
“I told you, we went to the hospital and after the tests, the doctor said you needed to be monitored, so I took you back to my place where you fell asleep.”
“Is that all I did? Sleep?” I studied him, watching for any tells that he was lying.
He closed his eyes, rubbing the lids with his fingers. “No.”
“Did I get on a table and dance the cha-cha? Did we have a so-called lesson?”
Jackson popped his eyes open, a deep blush covering his neck and cheeks. “Our clothes stayed on the whole time.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Jackson kicked a small rock with his toe and it skidded into the brush. “You wanted to be held, so I held you.”
“And…” I raised my eyebrows.
He shifted, facing me, his lips pressed together in a slight grimace. “Would it worry you if we did more?”
I crunched my empty water bottle between my hands and shoved it in my bag. “I’m more worried that you’re lying to me. Did we fool around? Did you face fuck me?”
He threw the stick into the brush behind me. “Why do you have to be so vulgar?”
“I’m trying to get you to be honest with me and stop avoiding my question.” My voice rose, high and tight. “You can’t be angry at me for that.”
“I’m not angry.” He slammed his boots on the ground and stood. “You keep pushing me.”
“Because you’re lying to me!”
A family who’d been a few hundred yards behind us had also reached the top but didn’t stop long as our voices reached a crescendo.
“I’m sorry.” He shoved his arms through the arms of his backpack. “I’m stressed because of work.”
“Bullshit. What else happened? Tell me.”
“We kissed.” His hands flew up. “Okay. That’s it.”
My palm flew to my mouth. I dug deep in my brain but I couldn’t excavate the memory of a kiss.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” I brought my hands on my hips, demanding answers.
“I didn’t want you to know.”
My gut spasmed as if it had been punched.
“Why not?” My voice was low, raspy, weary.
“I didn’t want you to think it meant something.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, my arms dropping to my side.
“Who initiated the kiss?” I asked softly.
He gripped the straps of his backpack, shuffling his feet, avoiding my eyes. “You did.”
“And you felt bad for me so you kissed me.” I could just picture it. Me, off my nut, clawing at it, asking him to hold me, to kiss me. I wanted to fold into myself and disappear.
“It wasn’t like that.” Jackson stepped toward me, but I shoved past him.
“Forget it.”
A pity kiss. I shut my eyes as that sunk in, lumbering down the trail. My boot caught on a root, and I clutched a branch above my hand rebalancing, my heart racing.
“Are you okay?” He called from behind, his feet crunching on the small rocks and dirt.
“I was obviously out of my mind if I wanted to kiss you.”
“Why do you say that?” he asked, his blue eyes locking onto mine.
“You didn’t even want to kiss me!” I continued down the mountain, wanting to outrun the revelation.
“Peyton, slow down.”
“I don’t even remember it, so let’s forget it,” I called over my shoulder. “In my world, it didn’t happen.”
“Why are you mad?” he asked, his voice strained.
“I’m not. It just threw me,” I said, but even I could hear the overly-bright, fake tone.
My foot slipped on the little pebbles and rocks and I skidded several feet down the path. Jackson hurried to my side and grabbed my waist. He yanked me up, hard, his fingers digging into my ribs.
“I don’t regret it.” His eyes bore into mine, wanting me to hear him.
I dropped my chin to my chest. “But you didn’t want me to know.”
His finger slid along my jawline and hooked under my chin, lifting my face. With me slightly higher on the trail and him below, we were face to face. My eyes slid to his lips, parted slightly, breathing heavily from the effort of the hike.
To think those soft pads had been on my lips a week ago. I’d spent more hours than I’d like to admit wondering what that might feel like. Somewhere, trapped in my mind, was the knowledge of it.
“I don’t regret it,” he whispered again. His lips were a breath away and his words fluttered against my lips, warm and moist. Gravity slid me another inch down the steep path, and my chest pressed against his, his heady scent filling my nostrils.
His hands were still around my ribs and he tightened them, gripping our bodies together, the heat between us almost scalding.
Jackson’s thumb tugged at my bottom lip and I swallowed loudly, my mouth moistening in anticipation. He wrapped his hands around my back and held me in a tight grip against his body. His lips fell against mine and I sighed in relief.
My hands weaved into his thick hair, cradling his head. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, and my tongue grazed the inside of his lip. He groaned and opened his mouth fully, our tongues colliding in a satiny dance.
His hands were tangled in my hair but then there was a tug and a sharp pain.
“Ow,” I breathed out.
“Sorry.” He pulled back again, strands of my hair caught around his finger. I wrapped my hand around his, trying to untangle the mess.
“You’re caught in my ring,” he said, concentrating on pulling my long strands out of where they were tangled.
Primal anger hit me in the gut, and I snatched his hand, held the few pieces, and ripped them out, my scalp screaming.
I stumbled backward, charging back down the trail. His wedding ring. His fucking wedding ring.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuck.
This vicious cycle stopped now. I reached the car, not looking back for Jackson, and searched on my phone for an Uber. I was furious with Jackson but I was more furious with myself. There was no service and I shoved my phone into my pocket.
What was he doing? What was I doing? Why was he toying with me?
Jackson appeared, typing rapidly on his phone, his face folded in concern. The car door clicked, unlocked, and Jackson slid in. He tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and gripped the steering wheel, staring out the window. I swallowed my anger, concerned he had bad news about the company.
I gingerly sat and placed his phone in the cup holder, then asked, “Was that the office? Is everything okay?”
“It’s Kat. She’s back in the city.”
My stomach clenched.
“What about India? The organization?” I swallowed. “Devan?”
“They broke up. She quit.” Jackson pressed the gas and I jolted forward.
“Do you need to go back to the city?”
“No.” Jackson slammed on the breaks at a four-way stop, then turned to me, his eyes bright—from anger or joy I couldn’t tell. “She’s renting a car. She’ll be here in five hours.”