Owning It (Metropolis #3)(23)

       
         
       
        

He flinches as though something I said hurt him. Can't he see I just don't want to be a dickhead to him? Some guy who takes him home when he's drunk as hell and lets him pay them for their kindness with his ass? If we ever go to bed together, it will only be because we want each other, not out of obligation or just because it feels like the thing we're supposed to do.

"We were having fun. Can we go back to doing that now? I don't want to fight," I tell him.

Before he answers, voices drift up from below. We're not alone-at least we won't be for long.

"Yeah, we can go back to having fun now." He moves to walk away but I reach out and grab his wrist. See the distance in his face and remember the hurt in his eyes.

"I want you. Don't fool yourself about that, Derek. I want you." And then I let go of his wrist and head back to our things.





10




Derek


My thoughts keep going back to the moment on the rock when we were right next to each other, Jackson's finger just under my chin, his dick hard in his pants. I should have made a move. If not then, at least when he told me he wanted me.

If he'd been any other guy, I would have gone for it.

But I held back, and that's been bugging me all week.

Jackson's so fucking hot. Just my type. Strong. Masculine as hell. And the kind of guy who wouldn't have trouble taking charge in the bedroom.

So why didn't I just kiss him?

As much as I keep replaying the scenario and regretting not making a move, I know the reason. He's not ready yet, and I don't want to push him.

Jackson's the first guy in a long time I haven't just wanted to fuck.

He's a guy who actually cares about people-his son, his mom, the people he rescues on the job, and me the night I was wasted.

I don't meet a lot of guys like him, and when I do, they tend to stay in my life-like Hayden and Gare-bear. The difference is, I don't get this raging boner whenever I think about them.

Just looking at him gets me stiff. And when he touches me, goddammit, it's like that moment where the X starts kicking in, and there's this sweet rush. The whole world starts changing around you. Not that I've done a lot of X, but that's the only thing I can compare it to.

So not having seen him again for a week has been killing me.

We're both busy with work. That's all it is, and I know because we keep texting each other. When I text him out of nowhere, it's always to make a joke or to give him a hard time about something but when he texts, it's always to ask how I'm doing or if I'm having a good day. 

I like that, but it kind of bugs the shit out of me how it gets me going.

But as wonderful as getting to know Jackson has been, I have to face those parts of my life that aren't as wonderful.

I walk into Uncle Randy's room.

Randy's closest friend, Jen, sits in a cushioned chair beside his bed. She's the only one who's been here for us since he came to Cypress Grove. In her sixties now, Jen's blond hair is at her shoulders, styled in a bob that I knew would look just right with her features. She turns as soon as I enter the room and smiles. I can tell it's forced by how tense her expression is … and the sadness in her eyes.

"He's feeling much better," she says.

She called me while I was at work to let me know Randy'd had a bit of a fit while he was walking through the courtyard with a nurse.

"Hey, Randy," I say, approaching his bed.

He shifts his gaze to me and he looks like he's so out of it, he can't even see me. There's this fear … the same fear that I always have in moments like these. But it could be the sedatives they gave him to calm him down, which they have to do when he gets worked up.

My eyes water because I know how he can get-frustrated, angry, disoriented-but if the nurses here would talk to him more-if they didn't have so many other patients they had to work with, they could talk him down. It takes some time and patience.

He's not a monster.

He's just Uncle Randy.

"Hey, Randy. You remember me?"

The corner of his mouth curls into a smile.

"My Derek."

My chin trembles. I might burst into tears from relief.

I know it's not likely he'll totally forget me anytime soon. It's newer memories that have been affected the most, and it'll take time, especially since I look relatively close to the way I did when I first started living with him. Perks of looking so much younger than I am, I guess.

I hug him, and he wraps his arms around me. He's weak from the meds.

I want to hold him and never let go.

I never want to leave him, but I know that isn't an option. Not when I have to keep working to keep him here. His retirement savings and insurance cover most of the expenses, but I have to bridge the gap with some of the money I make at the salon-something I'm fine with, and I can manage, which is nice. Some people aren't so lucky.