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Stay(76)

By:Emily Goodwin


“Really?”

He nodded. “Really. I’ve never seen one.”

“Not yet,” I said with a smile. “Jackson?”

“Yeah?” he answered.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“What’s your last name?” I asked.

He paused, like it was difficult to recall. “Porter. My turn. What’s your favorite movie?”

“Hocus Pocus.”

“I’ve never seen it.”

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Yes.”

I smiled. “Well, some day we will watch it together.”

“I’d like that,” he said. Our eyes met and my heart skipped a beat. I looked down at the empty bowl and yawned. “Tired?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Me too,” he said and stood. He took my bowl and empty cup and set them back on the tray. “As creepy as this makes me sound, I stayed up to listen to your breathing. For a while it really sounded like you were struggling for air.”

The small smile returned to my face. “I felt like it. I kinda still do, but I think I coughed a lot of it up in the shower.”

“Nice,” he grimaced and moved to the other side of the bed, looking at his pillow on the floor. “Wake me up if you need anything, Addie.”

I nodded and pulled the blankets over me. “Jackson,” I started as he bent down to the floor. “There is enough room for both of us.” I eyed the bed. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

“Are you sure Addie?” he asked slowly.

“Positive,” I said with a cough. I scooted toward the edge and patted the mattress next to me. “It’s more comfortable than the floor.”

“That is true.” He shook his head, and his dark hair fell over his eyes in a way that I found oddly charming, despite the fact that it made him look completely disheveled.

“Hang on.” He hurried out of the room and returned with a long, skinny decorative pillow from the guest room. He put it between us as he sat down. “I won’t touch you,” he stated.

“I know you won’t,” I said with a small smile. Part of me was still nervous to be this close to a man. Jackson treated me like a human being, cared about me, and wanted me to be comfortable and well. Reminding myself of that eased some of the anxiety.

He smiled one of his rare, genuine smiles. “Good.”

I made myself as comfortable as possible and closed my eyes. Rain began to pitter against the window, and the slight breeze turned into wind. Mist blew across the room, dampening my face. I pulled the blankets up over my head, thinking that if it began raining any harder I’d have to get up and close the windows. Jackson beat me to it. He left them open only about an inch, just enough to keep the fresh air coming in and to allow the cleansing scent of rain into the room.

“Are you cold?” he asked me.

“Not yet,” I told him.

“Okay. I can close the windows if you get cold.”

“You don't have to. The fresh air feels good.”

“It does,” he agreed and settled back down.

“My mom used to get mad at me when I’d leave the windows open and it was cold. She would say I’d have to start paying the bill to run the heater.” I smiled at the thought of her face. Then unwelcome tears spilled down my cheeks.#p#分页标题#e#

As if he was able to sense my sadness, Jackson put his hand on the pillow in a gesture of comfort. Slowly, I stuck mine out from under the blanket and let my fingertips touch his.

Jackson curled his fingers around mine, his touch nothing but gentle. I pushed my hand forward until our fingers were linked. It hit me, just then, how lonely I’d been. I’d been around people, shoved onto mattresses, and manhandled since I got here. It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t this, being close to someone purely for comfort. There was nothing sexual, nothing threatening or domineering about Jackson. He slowly moved his thumb into the palm of my hand, reading my face to make sure his touch was okay. Then he rubbed small circles onto my skin, relaxing me.

I liked the heat of his skin, his steady breathing, the way he smelled like soap and laundry detergent. I liked the way he was taking care of me, making sure I was comfortable and well. No, this was nothing like what I was used to. And I liked it.

“Jackson?” I whispered.

“Yeah?”

“How did you end up here?” I carefully asked. I opened my eyes and looked at him. Something dark crossed his face. His jaw tightened and he swallowed hard.

“It’s a long story.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I said and gave his hand a squeeze.