finding Reese.: a SAFELIGHT novel vol.2 (SAFELIGHT Series) Page 16

  She looks at me, no doubt panicked at my blatant disregard for her personal space. She’ll probably call the cops and sue my balls for sexual harassment, but I don’t care. I’m not one to look the other way when someone is down or sad, and right now she looks both. One of my thumbs brushes against her cheek, and it’s the softest skin I’ve ever touched. I remove one hand from her jaw, and take off her black-rimmed glasses. I want to look directly into her eyes with no obstacles. I honestly don’t fucking understand why, but I do.

  “It’s okay, Mr. Reese,” she breathes, her blue eyes searching mine.

  “Jackson, or Jax. You remind me of Cat . . .” I chuckle to myself.

  “Your pretty girlfriend? The one with you at the coffeehouse?” she asks uncomfortably, with her eyes looking over my shoulder.

  “She’s my best friend, but not my girlfriend, Ashley,” I clarify, emphasizing the last four words. “How old are you? And what happened to your kid’s dad?”

  “I’m twenty four. Kyle left when he found out I was pregnant. That was five years ago,” she replies quietly, and swallows hard.

  “What a fucking douche bag,” I grit, feeling incredibly pissed off at that low-life motherfucker. “If you work two jobs . . . who watches your kid?”

  “My Mom and brother help out whenever they can. I’m saving so I can move far away from this place,” she answers firmly, her sudden strength a shock. Ashley reaches for my hand, and puts some distance between us. “I see that look in your eyes, Jackson, and recognize it for what it is . . . pity. I know that look all too well because that’s how everyone looks at me in this godforsaken town.”

  Her honesty and bluntness is a huge breath of fresh air. I return her glasses, and step back to give her the space she obviously needs. I want to correct her poor assumption of me, because if anyone knows what that’s like it’s fucking me. I could be mad at her for being overly judgmental, but I pick my battles. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I walk away.

  “Goodnight, Ashley.”

  “Enjoy your dinner, Jackson.”

  I stop in my tracks unable to bite my tongue. “I will, Ashley, but this isn’t goodbye. Consider it a see you soon.”

  I wave goodbye, and then close the door. I rest my forehead against the door for a minute, then pick up the pie and walk past the staircase.

  “Cat!” I call, and jump when I hear her voice nearby.

  “I’m here. Who was that?” she asks.

  I turn around and smile. “That was Ashley.”

  “The barista? Why was she here?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

  “She has a part-time job delivering pizzas. She’s a single mom of a five year old. She works two jobs to make ends meet,” I reply nonchalantly.

  “You got all that 411 from her with just a pizza. Damn, Jackson. You’re smooth,” she mocks, but I see the amusement in her eyes.

  “Yep,” I answer, and open the pizza box. Grabbing a slice, I put it in my mouth and chomp on it before Catalina has the chance to say anything further. With the pizza box in hand, I walk in the den with her trailing behind. As we sit on the leather recliners in front of the big screen TV, I consider opening up to her about my feelings for Sam, and this growing curiosity for Caffeine Queen by day and Pizza Geek by night.

  “Do you want to talk about it, Reese? I can hear the rusty gears turning in your head all the way over here,” Catalina mumbles in between bites. Have I mentioned how irritatingly right she can be at times? Yeah. Nothing flies over her head. I guess that’s why she’s a journalist. She’s got that asking-truth-seeking-questions thing down to a science.

  Grabbing another slice, I consider her words for a moment. Maybe I should tell her and stop acting like a pussy. Guys like me don’t often talk about our feelings, though I make an exception with Jupiter because he’s like a brother to me. And I’ve trusted Catalina with my struggles with the freaking bottle . . . Oh, fuck it.

  “Sam . . .” I mumble uncomfortably, not sure how to go about this conversation.

  “Do you love her?” Catalina asks point-blank.

  “Jeez, Cat, can you ease into the topic before you start asking me stuff like that?”

  Catalina puts the pizza back in the box. With pursed lips she says, “Why beat around the bush?”

  When I don’t respond she sits up straight in the reclining chair, and looks at me with a raised eyebrow. Damn. Her seriousness cracks me up, and the louder my belly-laughs grow, the more she looks at me like I’m an idiot. When my laughter gets under control, I grab a napkin to wipe the tears from my eyes.

  “You said ‘beat around the bush’ so I had this mental image of-” I pause and notice she isn’t amused. “Never mind. Okay. I adore Sam, but I also know it’s a fool’s mentality to think after so many years she’ll change her mind out of the blue. I think it’s time for me to take a hike, you know? I’m not saying I won’t love her anymore, but it’s clear to me how I fit into her equation. I’m just a side piece, and that’s all I’ll ever be to her,” I exhale loudly, leaning back on the headrest.

  Catalina looks at me with understanding eyes, and I’m relieved she doesn’t question my decision further. I think, if anything, she’s stunned I’m turning the page so decisively. I need to get my life in order, starting from the inside, and all the way out to my recovering body. I stand, and walk to one of the picture windows facing the mountains. The powdery peaks at dusk look so serene and peaceful. Resting both palms against the cold glass, I bow my head in respect. My throat constricts as I think about Chris and Rem. I look at the ceiling and say a quick prayer for my dearly departed friends. Wherever they are, I hope they’re happy. I vow to never forget them, or the memories we created on the slopes.

  Looking at my reflection against the window I breathe, “Jackson Reese. I forgive you.”

  I feel Catalina’s warmth beside me, and while I know she heard me, she says nothing. Putting my arm around her waist, I pull her in close and kiss her hair. “I’m glad you’re here, Cat.”

  Catalina hugs me tight in silent agreement. I don’t know how I’d have done it without her friendship for the past few months. She truly is the embodiment of what it is to be a friend. A true friend. A real friend.

  “CATALINA.”

  “Catalina!”

  I roll in bed and throw the pillow over my head trying to drown out Jackson’s voice. All I want to do is sleep the day away between the comfy mattress and the Sherpa comforter. I haven’t been sleeping well at night since Stryder left; I always find myself searching for his warmth in the middle of the night. Sometimes I have nightmares where he never comes back, and wake up in a pool of sweat. Let’s just say, his absence is really weighing on me with each passing day.

  “Catalina Pardo, get your ass out of bed. We’re going to the doctor’s and then to run errands. Don’t tempt me to walk up there with a water jug, because I will!” Jackson threatens with a loud chuckle that bounces through the open space of the ranch.

  I throw the pillow on the floor and sit up in bed. Ugh. No sleeping in, I guess. Grabbing the night robe, I slip it on and open the bedroom door, then lean over the staircase to see Jackson fully dressed and ready for the day.

  “Well hello there, Sunshine.” He grins.

  I yawn loudly, and stretch my arms before I reply. “Morning, Jax. It’s too early for this shit,” I mumble, half-asleep.

  Jackson chuckles and with a wiggle of his eyebrows he says, “You’re saying that as if I give three shits . . . Come on, and get your ass in gear. I’m in the mood for white hot chocolate. We’ll stop at the coffee shop on the way to the medical center. I promise I’ll buy you coffee.”

  “All right, let me get ready,” I reply, walking into my room, and closing the door behind me.

  I’m showered and dressed in fifteen minutes flat. As I jog down the steps, I hear Jackson’s voice coming from the kitchen. I stop in my tracks to listen.

  “Sorry, Sam. I just can’t . . . I can’t do this anymore . . . No, I’m not se
eing anyone . . . Are you out of your fucking mind?! She’s Jupiter’s girl! . . . We’re not kids anymore . . . Yep . . . No . . . Okay . . . What’d you expect? I’d wait around forever? Oh, please . . . I heard him . . . Not jealous . . . We’re not exclusive, Sam . . . You do you, and I’ll do me . . . Don’t pull that shit . . . I don’t have time for this!

  “Fuck!” Jackson yells, and I hear a crashing sound from the kitchen. I run in there and find Jackson leaning against the granite countertop with both of his hands clutching his hair. He hears me walk in and looks up with a weary look on his face. I don’t know how to interpret his mood right now so I walk to the cupboard, and retrieve a glass. Opening the refrigerator I pour myself a glass of water and drink it in silence.

  Through the glass, I see him watching me, and a smile appears on his lips. “Step one, complete.”

  I tilt my head to the side like a dog does when they hear a high-pitched sound. “Come again?” I sputter, and place the empty glass in the kitchen sink. When I look down, I see what used to be Jackson’s phone strewn all over the floor. “If you wanted a new model we could’ve gone to the store and got you one.”

  “Nah, Cat. That’s just a metaphor,” he says with a wink. Okay, I don’t know what Jackson is up to, but at least he’s talking. “Come on, we have places to go today. Plus, I promised you a coffee.”

  “Are you sure you promised me a coffee, or is this some ploy to see Ms. Hot Java again?”

  Jackson smiles widely, and rests his hands against his hips. “Maybe . . . Does that bother you?”

  “Now why on Earth would that bother me? You are the owner of your life, and the decisions you make are yours to live by. I’m just here as a spectator, Jax,” I reply with a genuine smile.

  Returning my grin, Jackson claps his hands. “Then let’s quit the dilly-dallying and get to it. Admit it, Pardo. You’re curious about her too.”

  I consider his words for a moment, and nod. “When it comes down to your happiness, I’ll back you up one hundred percent.” Walking towards Jackson I take both of his large hands in my own, and squeeze them firmly. “I’m protective of you because I love you, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. I’ve seen glimpses of Tropical Storm Sam, and the aftermath she leaves behind. I think you need to give Ashley some thought before you make a move, though. I’ll be supportive, but you need to heal first both physically and mentally. Understood?”

  Jackson nods, his eyes searching mine. I can see a flicker of irritation, but I also know it’s not my place to tell him what to do. Like a child, he sometimes needs reminders about the little stuff, and I know he’s always depended on Kaelan for advice. I know I’m not Kaelan, but I’m positive my words get through to him

  “Yeah, I know, Cat. I just can’t get this geeky girl out of my head. I’m not going to pursue her. I just want to know if what I felt last night was real. I know I have my dumb motherfucker moments, and I know the timing is off. I just want to make sure I wasn’t seeing something that wasn’t there, you know what I mean?”

  “Yes, of course,” I respond with a smile. “Let me tell you a thing or two about timing, Jax. Even control freaks like me can’t control it. Things happen when they happen, and we can’t force these things. They need to happen on their own, okay? Now let’s go. I need my coffee.”

  Jackson smiles, and after putting our jackets on we’re out the door. As I sit in the coffeehouse parking lot waiting for him to return with our drinks, my phone chirps with an incoming email from my editor at Xsports Magazine, Marcia Reed. I’m on mandatory vacation, so I find it odd that she’s emailing me.

  C-,

  I hope you’re enjoying your well-deserved vacation. I wanted to touch-base with you on the article coming out in a few weeks. I saw the final proof, and between the images of the tour and the compelling story in between the pages, I think this edition will be our highest selling to date. Subscriptions are up a whopping 47%, and after what happened to Reese in BC, everyone wants to know what happens next.

  I wanted to give you a heads-up . . . Dominick and I will be in contact with Reese’s team to see if they would be interested in a follow-up story post-avalanche. If negotiations go well, I want you to write the story. I don’t know where you are, and I hate to interrupt your vacation again. Just let me know if this interests you. I also need the address of where you’re staying so I can ship the proof.

  Until then,

  -m

  I slump in my seat, and lean my head against the headrest. Work. That’s something I haven’t considered since Jackson’s accident. A part of me is annoyed because the media has no respect for timing. They fail to understand that while it’s our job to report facts, we forget our subjects are also human beings. Jackson needs to focus on his recovery, and while I understand the world is dying to know about him, he shouldn’t be forced to appear in the public eye until he is one hundred percent ready. Having said that, I also understand where Marcia is coming from

  As I’m about to put my phone in the cup holder, it rings, and my heart skips a beat because it’s Stryder calling.

  “Stud!”

  His chuckles echo through the line, making me smile. “Hey, baby. How’s my Raven Girl doing today?”

  “I’m good. Missing you . . . What’s new?!” I laugh. “How’s The Sun-burnt Country? Where are you today?”

  “I’m on a white sand beach waiting for the first heat to start. I wish you were here,” he breathes. “What are you up to?”

  “I’m waiting for Jax. He’s getting us coffee and then we’re headed to the medical center for a physical therapy session.”

  “How is Jax coming along? Is he getting better?”

  “Yeah, he’s good. Listen . . . I think he cut Sam loose.”

  Stryder hums, and then says, more to himself than to me, “Hmmm. That’s interesting.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, he’s been hung up on her for years. The optimistic side of me wants them to get together, but I know Sam is a free bird . . . Did he tell you why he cut her loose?”

  “He says he knows where he stands, and she doesn’t believe in exclusivity.”

  Stryder chuckles and says, rather than asks, “Did he meet someone new?”

  I sigh, and look out the window to make sure Jackson hasn’t left the coffee shop. “He did. She seems like a nice girl, but I don’t know. It’s too soon to say. Maybe the accident put things into perspective for him, you know? Carpe Diem?”

  “Well I’ll be damned. This is good news, Cat. Why do I get the impression you aren’t thrilled?”

  “No, no. It’s not that,” I huff over the line. “I just don’t want him to rebound. It’s not fair to the other person, if that makes sense. He needs to recover first.”

  “Here’s the thing, Catalina. We guys aren’t wired the same way women are. When we turn the page, that’s it there’s no turning back. He’s a big boy and he knows what he’s getting into. My advice is to stay out of it.”

  I huff in irritation. “Stryder, do not confuse my need to protect Jackson with narrow-mindedness. Hell, there’s nothing I want more than for him to find love, happiness, and stability. Unlike you, Jackson is sensitive. I think there’s more to him than you’re aware,” I mutter.

  “Whoa, Cat! That’s not what I meant. When I said stay out of it, I meant to let Jackson arrive at his own conclusions, not that you’re narrow-minded or meddling in his business. Don’t get upset, baby.”

  I tug at the long strand of my braid, feeling the knots. I don’t know what to say.

  “Babe, are you there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here,” I reply flatly.

  “Jeez, you’re mad at me. I’m sorry, Cat,” he says awkwardly. In the background I hear a voice on a loudspeaker, followed by deafening cheers. “Babe, I have to go. The heat is starting now. I’ll call you tonight,” he yells over the phone.

  “Bye, ba−” I try to say, but the line goes dead. Frustrated, I toss my phone into the cup holder, and rest
my head against the steering wheel. As my hands wrap around my chest, the passenger door opens and Jackson hands over a tray with our drinks. I force a smile, but he isn’t buying it.

  “What’s wrong, Pardo? What’s with the sad puppy face?” he asks, frowning.

  I shake my head. “It’s work, but first . . . tell me. How’d it go with Ashley?”

  Jackson beams, his crisp blue eyes glimmering. “Awesome actually . . . It was less awkward and very entertaining,” he replies, wiggling his eyebrows. “Look,” he says, pointing at my paper cup.

  I lift it from the tray and inspect the “name” written in black marker in what I presume is Ashley’s handwriting. My name is Catalina Pardo, and I’m a Caffeine Addict. Cute. Very cute. I smile and lean over to kiss his cheek. “What does yours say?” I ask, dying to know what’s written on his. Jackson hands it over, and I laugh loudly.

  Gimpy McGee.

  “Did you ask her to write this, Jax?”

  “No . . . She came up with that one all on her own,” he replies with a giggle. “I asked her to write the first thing that came to mind. The little shit wrote that.” Oh, I like her tons already.

  “Not for nothing, but I think we need to visit this coffee shop every day, Jax,” I say encouragingly. “If her marker talents make you happy then I’m all for it.” I take a sip from my cup and smile. “Plus, she makes a mean cup of coffee.”

  I turn the ignition, and the engine roars to life. As I’m pulling away from the coffeehouse, Jackson looks out the window. He raises his hand and waves, and when I look at the rearview mirror I see Ashley leaning against the glass doors, waving goodbye. I smile to myself and stop at the stop sign longer than legally required to give them a moment.

  I turn on the radio and The Stroke’s “You Only Live Once” plays. Jackson straightens in his seat, and we drive away into the early morning sun, singing at the tops of our lungs. I guess I can’t be all that irritated with Stryder. He’s right. I need to let Jackson work at his own pace, not mine. When you love someone, the urge to protect them from harm can easily turn into smothering. I wouldn’t say I’m smothering Jackson . . . Well, maybe a little, but it’s because I adore him and want to see him happy.