True for You(14)
My grin fades away. “Why not?”
“Because I already have plans.”
“With who?”
Her cheeks color. “Your friend, Cameron. I saw him the other day in town, when I was trying to read the bulletin board posters in the town square, by the courthouse. He said that if you agreed, he would show me around campus today and make sure I wouldn’t get lost at night.”
How very gentlemanly of him. “He put you up to this?” On the one hand, I’m happy, but on the other, I’m suspicious as hell.
That blush of hers deepens. “Sort of. I had wanted to go back, but before I didn’t have the time or the…”
“Money,” I say flatly. “Good for you, honey.” I lean into her. “Hope all those classes keep you warm at night.”
Her nose wrinkles, and she steps back. “You smell like a strip club.”
How would she know what they smell like? “Yeah, well, I did a little celebrating with some strippers. Really dedicated strippers,” I taunt. “They were all about getting the job done to my satisfaction.”
Pretty green eyes turn soft behind the lenses of her glasses. “You don’t have to run away from me, you know.”
No, I don’t know. Actually, Bliss makes me want to run away and stay all at the same time. I’ve never been so confused in my life. And why in the hell isn’t she jealous, mad, or something other than patient and understanding?
“I won’t hurt you, Jackson, at least not on purpose,” she says. “But you won’t know that until you at least attempt to trust me.”
“What makes you so damn trustworthy—because you want to use my money to get an education instead of buying jewelry or houses?” I sneer, trying to keep her at a distance.
“None of it does.” This time, Bliss moves closer to me, searching my face as she lightly brushes my hair back. “Learning to trust someone is taking a chance to put your ego, your heart, and your feelings in their hands, then hoping they don’t crush it to death.”
“Are you willing to trust me, Bliss?” I say, scared as hell she’ll say yes, while equally terrified she’ll find me not worth it and say no.
“Haven’t I already?”
Chapter Seven
Bliss
Jackson ignores me the entire ride into Sweetland. Instead, he turns on the radio and listens to the DJ talk about the massive storms coming in this afternoon.
The SUV travels down the tree-lined street of the small town. Moss is draped on the branches, and daffodils grow at the base of each tree. It’s very green and yellow.
Small stores with big display windows showcasing their wares and American Flags flying beside each door make it seem picturesque.
We pass by a huge, brick building, students hurrying in and out.
It’s very intimidating. I swallow and fight the urge to wring my hands.
Cameron waits in the parking lot, standing beside a black pick-up truck, with gigantic tires, just like he’d described.
He grins when he sees Jackson’s SUV and heads in our direction as we park and get out. I’m wearing the clothes I had on the night Jackson and I got married, a jean skirt and a pink blouse.
“I hope you don’t mind—”
Jackson cuts me off. “He doesn’t mind me being here at all, do you, Cam?”
“No, I don’t,” Cameron says, handing me a folder. It’s purple and gold, with the school name and mascot on the front. “I hoped you come with her.”
Jackson’s mouth smashes together, and I drop my gaze to the folder again, tracing the outline of the school’s name, then look up at Cameron.
The second time I met him, at the town’s bulletin board, I almost ran in the other direction because I was so embarrassed, but he’d put me at ease and just waved at me while he tacked up a couple of posters. We didn’t speak again until I was trying to sound out the words on one of the fliers, desperate to find a job as a backup plan.
I think he’s a good friend for Jackson to have, but right now, neither one of them look very happy to see each other.
“Isn’t this for real students?” I ask. “You know, the ones that will graduate with a real degree?”
Jackson takes the folder from me. “Why wouldn’t your degree be as real as theirs?”
“Um,” I say, my face beginning to heat.
Cameron’s gaze bounces between the two of us, a dark look in his brown eyes. Then he gives me a lopsided grin. “You are a real student, Bliss, and you’ll receive a real degree.”
“If you say so.”
“Shall we tour the campus?”
“After you, Professor.” Jackson places his hand on the small of my back, a possessive move that thrills and annoys me. Why does he care if Cameron’s nice to me, or even flirts a little? I’m nice back to him, but flirting—? I’ve never had the chance to flirt with anyone.