by C. L. Stacey
“NO!”
“Shh, dear, you need your rest. Here, eat your soup.” Harper picks up the prepared tray from the nightstand and sets it down in front of me. Then she walks over to where he is still sleeping and leans in. I squeeze my eyes shut with embarrassment when she screams the word “YO!” in his face.
Jackson jolts awake, screaming. Harper screams, too.
I whine, my hands clutching my head again.
Harper backs up a few feet and takes a seat at the end of my bed, facing him. “Who are you?”
Jackson cranes his neck to look past her, his eyes landing on me. “Lexi, are you okay? How are you feeling?” he asks, preparing to stand, until Harper stops him.
“She’s fine, she’s got soup.” Her hands gesture for him to sit back down, and he does. “Answer my question, please.”
“Jackson Anderson.”
“Cool.” Harper shrugs, casual about it. I already got the real reaction, and she isn’t the type to repeat performances.
“Who are you?” he asks her.
“The awesome best friend who brings soup.”
“Right. I’m sorry about the late text,” Jackson takes responsibility for the mystery text, stunning both Harper and myself. “I kept the message simple, one that wouldn’t cause for alarm at such a late hour. I just thought Lexi would want to wake up to a familiar face, to lessen the shock of finding me here. So I messaged ‘Sissy,’ and here you are.”
We both stare silently, nobody saying anything to break the silence. You’d think Jackson would struggle under pressure, but he’s never looked more relaxed.
“My name’s Harper Nichols, soon to be Johnson. I’m quite disappointed you haven’t heard of me.” Harper turns to glare at me from over her shoulder, and I pick up the spoon to start on my soup.
Jackson’s eyes find mine again. “Yea, well, she doesn’t talk to me much. Yells at me mostly.”
I ignore him and focus on the only thing helping with my hangover.
“Then maybe you’re mean, because my Lexi’s usually nice,” Harper defends me.
“Yes, I guess I can be. Sometimes.”
“Well, that won’t do.” Harper sighs disappointedly, deadening Jackson’s spirits. “Lilies, Lindor, Louis, Lasagna.”
“Harper!” I bark at her.
Jackson’s face distorts with his confused frown. “Pardon me?”
“Ways to make up for being an asshole,” she explains, completely disregarding my order for her to stop. “A list of Lexi’s favorites.”
The lines along his forehead smooth over, and I catch that familiar smile ghost his lips. “Understood. Thank you.”
Harper begins to stand, and he follows suit. “Maybe if you work fast enough, she’ll bring you to my wedding. She didn’t check the plus one box, but I held out, hoping she’d find a date by then.”
“HARPER!” I shout, regretting the decision immediately when my head suffers the consequences.
“Maybe,” Jackson provides Harper with the exact answer she was hoping to hear.
“Wonderful! A celebrity at my wedding!” She claps her hands together giddily. “So I’ll be seeing you around, then, Jackson?”
“No. We’re not friends,” I say, my tone heavy with my spite.
“Count on it,” Jackson answers right over me.
“Good.” Harper pulls the strap of her purse over her shoulder, waving a dismissive hand my way. “Don’t mind her, she’s a horrible morning person.”
I’m glaring at her when she makes her way over to me, her arms embracing me tightly. “I can’t believe you just did that. You’re horrible.”
“Shh.” Harper pats me lightly against my back, as if she’s soothing a crying child. “Brush your teeth and take a shower. You look like shit, sweets, and I say that with love.”
“I hate you,” I whisper into her much cleaner and more wonderful smelling hair.
“Okay, I love you!” She stands up straighter, beaming at the both of us before making her way toward the exit. She stops short when she reaches Jackson. “Don’t break my friend, or I won’t think twice about junk punching you. Oh, and spoiler alert, I can punch really fucking hard, like a gorilla on steroids. M’kay?”
Jackson’s brows shoot up at the sound of her threat, amused by my unordinary friend. “Fair enough.”
“Okay, bye!” she chirps, walking out the door.
“Where are you going?” I call after her.
“To kill the bitch that ruined my bridal bouquet!” Harper shouts back, and I hear the front door slam behind her.
And now, we are alone.
Wonderful.
As soon as Jackson’s sure we’re alone he approaches the bed and takes a seat at the end. He’s looking at me as if I’ll break, the same look he’s been giving me since the second he woke up.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” I ask.
The question triggers something in my memory, and I have a sort of déjà vu moment. Did I ask him that already?
“You don’t remember anything,” he states more than asks. I shake my head no. He nods, expecting that answer from me. “I didn’t want to scare Harper, so I didn’t say anything while she was here.”
My head tilts, and I regard him carefully, afraid to hear what it is he found too sensitive to share with Harper. “We didn’t… did we?”
His eyes widen at what I’m insinuating, and the weight lifts off my chest when he shakes his head. “No. No, we didn’t—I wouldn’t do that.”
“Okay, then, what is it?”
“You had a lot to drink,” he starts off easy. I nod, because that much I remember. “You asked to speak with me,” he says. I nod when it sounds familiar, bits and pieces of the conversation returning to me. “You left me to return to Caleb, then I guess you and Bethany decided to go dancing…”
I don’t remember that.
“Two men approached you, you danced with them,” he speaks softly, “and I have no idea at what point they were successful in doing so, but they drugged your drink, Lexi. That’s why you’re having trouble remembering what happened at the end of the night.”
His words are like ice, chilling the blood in my veins until I feel frozen solid. He says more, but my addled brain drowns out the rest.
There’s so much I want to ask, but I can’t. I just stare into my soup, too overwhelmed by the shock to be able to say anything intelligible.
My eyes lift from my bowl, and I see that his are watching me carefully, like I’m some ticking time bomb ready to blow. He has the right idea, everything inside me is screaming, my hands trembling.
Jackson reaches across the mattress and removes the tray from my lap, setting it back on my nightstand, then scoots in closer to me. I’m not even aware of the tears brimming until they’re already flowing freely down my cheeks.
“Lexi, I need you to listen to what I’m saying.”
“Did they—”
“Listen to me.” I look down when Jackson’s hand closes around mine, the contact enough to bring me back, then he tips my chin up with the other, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Did you honestly think that I would let that happen, that I’d let them take you?” I say nothing. I can’t. “Lexi, I would never let anyone hurt you—”
Relief floods my chest, and I don’t let him finish before throwing my arms around him, too grateful to express my gratitude with just a simple thanks. “You got to me in time,” I sob into his shoulder.
“Of course I did.” His arms close around me, and I squeeze him tighter.
“I remember being really mean to you, I was sure you left.”
“I didn’t.” He squeezes me back, cradling the back of my head protectively to him.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my tears soaking his expensive shirt.
We stay this way for a while. I should probably let go soon, but I can’t seem to part with the comfort and safety of his arms just yet.
All I do is yell at him, he’s right.
Ever since Eli
had gone from my life, I’ve blamed the entire world and kept them at arm’s length. It’s time I learn to let people in. Well, the right ones, at least.
Jackson saved me from what could have been another traumatizing event in my life. How do I even begin to repay him for that?
I’m the first to pull away, drying my cheeks with the pads of my fingers. “Can you tell me more? What happened after the club drama?”
“Well, I made sure that Chad knew to take care of them before we left, then I wanted to make sure you were okay, so I called my sister…”
“Sister?” I interrupt him in the middle of his story.
He stops to look at me, his expression more guarded now. “I needed someone I could trust to come and take a look at you.”
“Your sister’s a doctor?”
“She’s chief resident at California Hope.”
“Oh.”
“She said that everything seemed fine when she checked on you before leaving here last night, but I want to hear it from you.” Jackson’s eyes reflect genuine concern for me, and I feel horrible for putting him through it. “How are you feeling?”
Like honest to goodness shit, I don’t say. But he’s still looking at me like he expects an answer.
I bring my hand up and pull the elastic band that still loosely holds my fishtail braid together, and I brush my fingers through to set them free. “Feels like I have a really bad hangover. I think I’d like a shower to wash the night off me. Are you planning to stick around, or do you have a bunch to do today?”
He shakes his head and stands to his feet. “I was actually about to ask you if you’d mind if I stayed.” His hands dip into his pockets as he begins to back away from me. “Twenty-four hours. Whatever you were given should pass through your system by then, and I’d feel much better if I could see that for myself before I leave you tonight. Is that okay with you?”
A gentleman’s proposal…
“I’d like that,” I say, the corner of my mouth lifting into a half-smile.
“Then I’m sticking around.” He smiles back at me. “I’ll be just outside. Take your time.”
It’s been such a long time since I’ve felt that familiar fluttering you get when someone makes you nervous. So long that I almost mistake it for a side effect of my hangover, and it almost makes me sick.
No.
I’m gonna be sick.
I flee for the bathroom, my hand blocking my mouth the entire way to the toilet.
After I get myself cleaned up and changed into the fresh suit I had Daniel drop off early this morning, I wait for Lexi on the couch.
There are magazines on the coffee table in front of me, but nothing that interests me enough to crack open and read. Most of them have to do with fashion, others have to do with celebrity gossip, and I think I see a Runway Magazine somewhere in the middle, but I especially don’t care for that one right now.
I’m still furious with Caleb for allowing things to spiral so far out of control. I get that he didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but he had taken her there. He was responsible for her.
The things that could have happened to Lexi if I hadn’t walked up to the window exactly when I did…
I shake my head and run my hands roughly down my face, needing to wipe the horrifying thoughts and images from my mind.
I got to her in time. That’s all that matters.
My phone rings in my pocket and I pull it to check the screen. Lea.
With a quick tap against the green button to accept her call, I bring the phone to my ear. “Lea.”
“Mr. Anderson, I’ve been getting calls all morning from different reporters. They’re asking for a comment regarding last night’s incident? There are pictures floating around different gossip sites of both you and Mr. Carlisle in the middle of some brawl with two other men…”
“Lea,” I cut her off in the middle of her nervous chattering. I can’t think when she’s like this, with her talking through my ear while I try to think my way out.
This is bad. I expected this after I hit the guy, but it doesn’t make things any better. I physically assaulted him, and there are pictures to prove it. My eyes fall closed, and I exhale deeply through my nose as I think about my next move, my patience wearing thin.
“Contact legal,” I give my first order. “Contact Brad. Notify him of what’s happening. These men have no case, they have no reason to take legal action, so don’t worry. I doubt they will, but if they come at me, I’ll be ready.”
“I’ve tried Mr. Davis already. I’ve been trying since receiving my first call from my first reporter this morning. He’s… unreachable, at the moment,” she informs me.
And there’s his strike three.
“Forget Davis. Davis is out,” I tell her without a trace of regret. If he wants to fuck around, I have no use for him.
“Understood, Mr. Anderson. And what of the reporters?”
“No comment, for now.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll see you in the morning.” I hang up the phone.
Ten seconds later, it rings again. I glance down at the screen.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter the words through a heavy sigh, tapping my thumb against the screen to take the call. “Caleb,” I answer.
“We’re famous,” he jokes.
Caleb hates the media just as much as I do, but I hate that he finds it necessary to joke about absolutely everything. This is in no way a joking matter. Lexi could have been taken. She could have been considered a missing person this morning had we not gotten to her in time.
“Someone took pictures to commemorate our time together, Jackson. Did you happen to stumble upon any of them this lovely morning? I think I’ll frame this one.”
“What do you want?” I say curtly, wanting him to get to the point of the call.
He chuckles. “My legal team is working on damage control. I wanted to call to tell you that I’ve got your back. This one’s on me.”
“Yes, it is.” I don’t bother denying it. “Is that all?”
“A simple thank you would suffice.”
“Fuck you, Caleb.”
There’s a pause in the line, a few moments of silence, and then he asks, “How’s she doing? She’s okay, right?”
The sound of Lexi’s bedroom door opening from down the hall makes my heart jump. I don’t want her to know I’m on the phone with him, not when there’s a chance it might upset her all over again.
“She will be fine.” I hang up in a rush, silencing my ring before replacing the phone in my pocket. Lexi turns the corner a half a beat later. “Feel better?” I ask in a calm, even tone.
“Yes,” she answers. When she notices the change in my appearance, her mouth draws down into a small frown. “Where’d you get a new suit?”
“Alfred.” My mouth tilts in a smile when my small attempt at humor is rewarded with a giggle.
It’s so good to hear her laugh again, to see her smile. I wasn’t aware of how much I missed it until now.
Lexi drops herself in the seat next to mine, and I get a whiff of her floral shampoo from her still-damp hair. It smells sweet, like her. My gaze drops when her long legs lift onto the couch before she tangles them together in front of her. Her skin’s gotten darker since I saw her last.
When I realize that I’ve been fixating far too long on her naked, recently tanned legs, I quickly blink myself out of it and redirect my attention to her face.
She’s watching me, closely, her expression curious. “Can I ask you something?” she asks.
“Yes. You can ask me anything,” I reply.
“Will you answer it, though?”
I pause, considering this for a moment. “Depends on what the question is, I guess.”
She looks slightly disappointed but nods, and then she asks, “Why do you look at me the way you do?”
The question throws me off. “What way is that?”
“You just always look so… sad.”
My heart slam
s against my chest, and I feel more exposed to her now than I’ve ever felt before. In the short time I’ve come to know Lexi, she has always been incredibly perceptive, her eyes always seeming to catch everything I try to keep hidden away.
The familiar panic begins to creep up on me, but I weigh it down with my need to stay calm, to remain in control.
This is my chance to come clean to her about everything.
Maybe she’ll forgive me.
Maybe she’ll understand.
Then again, maybe she won’t.
Maybe she’ll hate me.
I want to tell her the truth right then. I could have. I should have. But I choose to remain selfish a little while longer, to keep things just as they are for as long as I can keep our connection a secret.
“You remind me of someone,” I say. It’s not a complete lie. She does.
Lexi blinks her wide blue eyes at me, trying to make sense of my vagueness. “A dead someone?” she asks knowingly.
Thoughts of Eli come trickling into my head, and I force myself to look away, too ashamed to look at her when I nod my head. “Yes,” I whisper.
“That explains a lot.”
I turn to meet her eyes again. “It does?”
She nods. “It certainly explains why you’re as protective as you are.” This much is true, so I nod back. Then she goes on to say, “Whoever this person was must have meant a lot to you, for you to go to great lengths to protect someone you barely know.”
That’s where she’s wrong.
But I know you, I don’t say.
A text alert steals her attention, drawing it to the screen of her phone. Her mouth drops open when her eyes take in the message silently, leaving me out of it. “Oh, my GOD!” she whines.
That protective side she mentioned comes out as soon as I sense her distress. “What is it?”
“Oh, nothing that won’t ruin my reputation. Harper just sent me this!” Lexi turns her phone for me to see, and I scan it quickly.
Shit.
It’s an article with a headline that read: Came with one, left with another. Who is this mystery woman? There are two different photos to support the bullshit allegations, making it appear to be true. The first photo is of Lexi on Caleb’s arm at the start of the night. The second photo is of Lexi unconscious in mine.
