Jackson brought out the very worst in her, cruel words she didn’t even know that she had the capacity to say.
Rachel had gone. Megan was quietly waiting somewhere in the house for the fire department. She and Jackson still clung to each other, but the air felt charged with tension. Jenna knew she owed Jackson multiple apologies. She couldn’t keep lashing out at him. It wasn’t fair. And she didn’t really mean the things she said.
“I’m sorry.” The words sounded so cliché. She wished that she had better ones or that he could feel the weight of how deeply she felt them.
“It’s okay. I was a jerk back then.” He paused and there was pain in his voice when he spoke again. “I don’t know if I’m any better now. Though I’d like to be.”
Slowly, Jenna lifted a hand from Jackson’s back toward where she knew his face was. She hesitated only for a moment and then touched his cheek with her fingertips. He drew in a breath. She traced her fingers over his jaw and cupped his face, feeling the rough scratch of stubble on her palm.
“Jackson, no—I really am sorry. Not about what I just said, but all the things I’ve said. I’ve been treating you horribly since I’ve been back. I have never spoken to someone the way I’ve spoken to you this week. You totally didn’t—and don’t—deserve it. I’ve been the jerk and I’m sorry.”
He leaned slightly into her hand, bending closer toward her so when he spoke, she felt his breath on her cheek. “You mean like how you thought I was a bag boy at Bohn’s? Because that was actually pretty funny, I have to say. Your opinion of me could not be much lower, could it?” She could hear the smile in his voice through the dark.
“Oh, it could have been lower. Still can, so you better watch it. But seriously, even if you were a cashier or something, I shouldn’t have been a jerk about it. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. You just seem to bring out some kind of reaction in me. I don’t know what it is about you. I’m working on it.”
He was so close it felt like his cheek almost brushed hers. She closed her eyes, listening to the rush of her heartbeat in her ears.
“I bring out a reaction in you, huh?” His voice was teasing and light, just like the breath she felt over her lips.
Was he going to kiss her?
Now that she had the thought, Jenna’s mind and her mouth were drawn to the idea of his lips.
“You do. Not always a bad reaction.”
“No?”
Her breath caught. Jenna felt a rush and elation she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager. There was teasing still in his voice, but also a hint and a promise of something. The heat she was feeling now had less to do with the cramped, airless space and more to do with the attraction that was very clearly moving between them.
Could it be this easy? To go from thinking she hated Jackson to letting him kiss her? She wanted him to, more than she had wanted anything in a long time. This was the first time in as long as she could remember that Jenna wanted anything. Not just physical touch or romance, but even the spark of desire. The longing to live. Too long she had been going through the motions of a life that felt empty.
Cloaked in the darkness of the elevator, Jenna felt brave. She leaned the slightest bit closer to him and felt his arms tighten around her. She trailed her hand from his face down to his shoulder, feeling the muscles tense and bunch beneath her fingers.
The light scrape of his stubble on her cheek made her gasp. When Jackson chuckled, his lips brushed the skin near her mouth. Jenna froze completely, the shock of his skin against hers startling her into the inability to respond.
“I did everything wrong before.” Jackson’s words moved against her skin as his lips dragged over her cheek. Her body almost vibrated with the anticipation. If he moved his mouth slightly to the left …
“I want to do things right this time. I would like to kiss you, but I want to know that’s what you want too.” His breath on her cheek made Jenna shiver. “Though I’m honestly afraid of what might come out of your mouth, based on your track record.”
Jenna giggled, more from nerves than humor. “I can’t say that I blame you.”
When Jenna spoke, her lips moved against the sandpapery stubble on his cheek. Why hadn’t she just said yes? Yes, please kiss me. He was asking for permission. Jenna wanted him to kiss her more than she remembered wanting anything in the last few years.
But her nerves flared in equal strength to her desire. What was she thinking? Did he really want a relationship? Did she? Hadn’t she just been insulting him? Could her feelings really change that fast? Her heart was galloping and her brain was misfiring, her thoughts scattered, bouncing everywhere.
She couldn’t seem to summon the bravery she had felt only moments ago to say that one word. Three letters. Yes. That’s all, but Jenna couldn’t manage to choke out the word as the silence grew more awkward between them. If she couldn’t say it, she could show him instead. Jenna inched closer and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.
That was the permission he needed. His mouth found hers in the dark, strong and firm and full of passion. Jenna sighed against his lips and moved with him. She poured out her apologies into the kiss, as well as the feelings for him that she had denied, both then and now. In answer she felt Jackson make his own apologies and promises. It was both fervent and tender, carrying with it what felt like years of passion. Jackson’s lips drew her to follow as they slid over her mouth.
It was the best kiss of her life. She had never felt such adoration and love in a kiss before. But that wasn’t right—Jackson couldn’t love her. The thought almost shocked her out of the moment, but she sank right back into the bliss of the moment as his kisses turned featherlight and teasing.
Maybe not love—not yet. But an intensity brewed where their skin met. This felt like something sure and trustworthy. Something much bigger and more significant than a crush or some stolen moment. Jackson’s kisses felt like he was making declarations and vows. A surge of hope filled her as she knit her fingers into his hair, tugging gently until he made a small moan and pulled away.
“Do you hear that?” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.
Did he mean her heart? It had never been so loud as it was in her ears. But could he really hear it? Maybe he meant her breathing, which sounded embarrassingly like she had just been sprinting.
But then she heard the keening cry of a siren, growing louder. “Oh no.”
“Oh yes. That would be the fire department.”
“This is going to be really embarrassing, isn’t it?”
“Considering that I’m good friends with most of the guys, yes. And, given the way Sandover gossip spreads like wildfire, even more so. Have you ever been in the Island paper? I have, and it’s delightful.”
“Stop it. This isn’t news.”
Jackson laughed. “You’ve been Off Island too long. This is huge news. Huge. Everyone will know about this by the end of today.”
Jenna knew that he meant getting stuck in the elevator, not the kiss. But she suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of fear. Had kissing Jackson been a terrible idea? What did it mean? What would happen when they got out and didn’t have the darkness to hide behind?
Jackson ran a hand down her cheek and Jenna was suddenly aware of how slick her skin was with sweat. He must think she was disgusting.
She stepped back slightly as the sirens came to a stop. Everything—the heat, the kiss, the thoughts now racing through her head—overwhelmed her. Nausea rose in her stomach and her teeth were inexplicably chattering even as she realized that the heat had become almost unbearable. Her face was completely slick with sweat and her shirt stuck to her back in an unflattering way.
Jackson noticed and ran his hands up and down her arms. They too were sweaty and she pulled away from him, feeling suddenly embarrassed.
“Hey, are you okay? Are your teeth chattering? You can’t be cold.”
“I think I’m just … emotional. Or something. I don’t feel very good. But at least I forgot for a
bit that I was scared. You did a good job with distraction.”
There was a pause. In it, Jenna was suddenly aware of male voices and footsteps on the stairs inside the house.
“Did you think this was just about distracting you?” Jackson asked.
Jenna reached up, feeling for his face and touched it lightly with her fingertips. It was too hot to cup his face between her palms. She swallowed and tried to channel the bravery that came from being in the dark. For once, she wanted to say the right words to Jackson. “You misunderstood me. I wasn’t trying to cheapen it. That was the most treasured I have felt in I don’t know how many years. Maybe forever.”
He kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry. Not for the kiss, but for my brief moment of panic just now when I thought maybe you thought I was taking advantage of you in the moment or something.”
“What? No! Maybe we need to have more conversations and say the real things we’re feeling. We don’t seem to be very good at that. At least, I’m not.”
“I’m all for more conversations. Lots of them. And more … distractions.”
“But maybe when we aren’t so sweaty? I feel disgusting. And light-headed.”
Jenna sensed Jackson leaning toward her when there was a rattle and a clacking sound at the door. Light flooded the elevator. Jenna jumped away from Jackson, her back hitting the wall. She looked toward the opening as a grinning face appeared.
“Well, if it isn’t my best friend and my old babysitter. This sounds like the beginning of a joke. Yikes—that heat is no joke. How are you two doing in there?”
“Beau?” Jenna had been friends with Beau’s older sister, Hope. She remembered him as a mischievous blond boy who was always kicking around a soccer ball. He had been about ten years younger: a surprise baby for Hope’s parents when she was almost in middle school. Same smile and the blond hair, but older. And he looked massively built, even from the little she could see of him.
“You remember me? That’s good. I’m glad I made a lasting impression.”
“I remember you as being trouble.”
“Looks like the tables have turned, doesn’t it?”
Jackson laughed. “Beau. I’ve always dreamed about the day when you’d need to rescue me. How about you get us out of here? I think we’re about to melt and Jenna isn’t a fan of small spaces.”
“Will do. You should be thankful that we had a magnet key for this door,” Beau said. “Otherwise I would have been axing my way through it.”
“Thank you for not destroying my house, man.”
The teasing dropped out of Beau’s tone. “Okay, Jenna. We’re going to get you out of here first. You guys are at a tough spot, though. The elevator won’t start again, so that’s a bust. It’s a pretty narrow opening and I can’t just pull you out from here because of the angle. Jackson? Do you think you could hoist Jenna up here?”
“No,” Jenna said, just as Jackson said, “Yes.”
She narrowed her eyes at Jackson. “No way.”
The thought of him having to pick her up felt too intimate. She had admired his wide chest and massive biceps on the beach the other day, but what if she was too heavy? Nothing would be more humiliating.
Beau’s head filled the opening again. “Jenna. This is my job, okay? I’m going to get you out the easiest and safest way possible. This is the best way. Jackson’s strong. You’re small. It’s completely fine. We’re going to try it and if it doesn’t work, we’ll move to other options. I’m going to take your hands and Jackson is going to lift you by the hips. Together we are going to get you safely out. Don’t make my job any harder. Let’s get you out of there.”
Jenna hesitated and then took Beau’s hands. She could feel the strength in them before he even started to lift.
“I’m going to grab your hips now,” Jackson said from behind her. “Don’t freak out or kick me, okay?”
She nodded and then his arms were around her hips, lifting her as though she didn’t weigh anything at all. Jackson guided her up as Beau gently pulled her, his hands wrapped around her wrists and forearms. She ducked her head and wriggled through the opening.
Jackson’s hands fell away from her hips, but she felt them help push from her thighs, then calves. She gave a final push with her feet against his chest to make it all the way out of the elevator. Beau released her arms and Jenna crumpled against the wall, sweating and shaking.
Beau kneeled in front of her, grinning. “Hey, there. You trusted us. Thank you. It’s really good to see you! How are you feeling?”
“Hot. Shaky.”
“Hey, Jimmy,” he called. “Let’s get Jenna some water, okay? You just sit tight for a few minutes while we get Jackson out. Okay?”
He patted her leg and stood. It was hard to reconcile the little boy she babysat with this man—wide shoulders and thick muscles straining his navy T-shirt under the suspenders and bright yellow fireman pants.
Jimmy, who could have been Beau’s brother with his strong build, blond hair, and friendly grin, knelt in front of her and handed her a bottle of water. Jenna drank it down in long swallows and then closed her eyes, listening as they worked to get Jackson out.
“Give me a minute and I’ll check you out,” Jimmy said. “You’re in good hands, okay?”
Jenna nodded.
It was a little more difficult to get Jackson out, given that he was bigger than Jenna and didn’t have someone to help push him out. The angle made it impossible for Beau and Jimmy to pull him straight out.
“Can you brace yourself on something? Is there a railing or anything to push off of?” Beau asked.
“No,” Jackson said. “Wait—maybe if I try to wedge my feet against the control panel. Hang on.”
Jackson’s hands appeared on the ledge, then his face. Beau and Jimmy were quick to grab him around the upper arms. There was a cracking sound and Jackson jolted back down an inch or so and groaned.
“The door I had my foot on broke off,” Jackson grunted. “I think I’ve cut my leg.”
“We’ll see in just a minute,” Beau said. “We’ve got you now, man. Hang on.”
With lots of grunting and a version of what looked not unlike a game of Twister, Beau and Jimmy managed to help wrangle Jackson through the opening. All three lay in a pile on the floor after, breathing heavily. One of them, maybe Jackson, started to laugh and soon all three of them were laughing. Jenna smiled, in spite of how badly she felt.
“Mind telling me how that even happened?” Beau asked. “We get calls for kids getting these things stuck all the time. Never adults. Was this your plan? Because you know that you can just ask a girl out. You don’t have to get her stuck in an elevator with you to make a move.”
Beau winked and Jenna was glad her face was already flushed so they didn’t see her blush.
“No comment,” Jackson said.
“It was my fault,” Jenna said. “I opened the door while it was moving.”
Beau shook his head, tsk-tsk-ing. “Jenna. Didn’t think you’d grow up to be a troublemaker. Jackson, let’s get a look at that leg. Oh, my. That’s some blood.”
“How about we get out of this hallway,” Jimmy suggested.
“Yes—let’s go upstairs and sit down. Jimmy, you give my boy Jackson some support there.”
“I’m fine,” Jackson said.
“Sure you are, tough guy. I’m more worried about you getting blood on your fancy carpet. I’ve got Jenna. Tom, can you put some caution tape up over these elevator doorways. Make it official until you can get the repairman over here.”
Beau helped Jenna stand on unsteady legs and practically carried her up the stairs, his arm around her waist. At the top of the stairs, Jenna realized that Megan stood nearby, filming the whole thing on her phone. Oh no. Was this going to go in one of her mini documentaries?
Normally Jenna would care more, but a wave of nausea passed over her. Black dots danced in front of her eyes, but cleared as Beau sat her down at the dining table, Jackson just across from her with
his bloody leg propped up.
“Are you okay?” Jenna asked.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “A scratch.”
“A scratch that cut right through your shorts,” Jimmy said. He had the first aid kit and rolled up Jackson’s pant leg, revealing a long, thin cut down the front of his leg.
“That’s not nothing,” Beau said. “Doesn’t look like it needs stitches, but we’ll see once Jimmy cleans you up. Jenna, you look pale. I’m going to get you some more water, okay?”
Jenna nodded and closed her eyes, hearing all the conversations around her as though they were happening in another room. She felt exhausted, like she might fall asleep right here at the table. Beau nudged her with a cold bottle of water.
“Drink,” he said. She took a few sips then closed her eyes again.
Beau and Jimmy and Jackson were talking about something related to church and Wednesday nights. “All finished,” someone—Jimmy?—said. Behind that sound she could hear Megan’s voice asking questions, one of the other guys answering. The roar of the ocean grew louder in her ears, as though it was rising up and up and up toward them on the third story.
“I feel…” she started to say, but couldn’t find the strength to finish.
That’s when everything went black.
When Jenna opened her eyes, it took her a moment to place the smiling blond man hovering over her. He could have been Beau’s brother: bulky muscles, wide grin, and hair that looked like it belonged in a surfing catalogue. Jimmy. That was his name. He had just said something and looked like he was waiting for a response, but she didn’t have one.
“Hello.” That seemed like a reasonable thing to start with. Her mouth felt dry, almost like her gums were pulling away from her teeth.
Suddenly it all rushed back: the memory of pulling the elevator door, her terror as the lights went out, Jackson’s arms around her. When the memory of the kiss hit her, she gasped.
Jimmy’s smiled disappeared into concern. “Are you okay? Jenna?”
Sandover Beach Memories Page 11
