Page 51 of Just Don't Call Me Yours

Because it feels like a trap.

My mouth opens, but no words come out. If I admit this—if I admit to wanting him at all, I’ll never hear the end of it. He’ll hold it over my head, and I’ll have to face him every day for the rest of the year, knowing he knows.

I can’t put myself in that position.

But I don’t want to tell him I don’t want him because that’s not true either. This would be a lot easier if he’d just kiss me and not have to make it a game. No good can come from playing games with Jackson.

Eventually, he shrugs, accepting my silence for what it is. “Fine, don’t say anything,” he says casually. Reaching over me, he goes to pull the chain on the lamp but pauses. “But Margot?”

I look up at him, still unable to say a word.

With an unreadable expression, he says, “You should voice what you want—or don’t want. You deserve at least that much.”

34

jackson

When I wake up, Margot is the first thing that comes to mind. I don’t even know why I did it. It’s not like she’s ever shown an interest in me, but we’ve been doing this back and forth for months. I think I just wanted to know if she’s had the same thoughts.

Once the semester ends, I’ll be gone anyway. If anything is weird after this, it will only be three weeks of hell with Margot living across the hall, and I can handle that.

I can handle three weeks.

But what I can’t handle is how pretty she looks right now. Her red hair is still up in the bun she slept in, but loose pieces have fallen throughout the night. She looks peaceful—more at peace than I’ve ever seen her look while she’s awake. The way she looks right now, lying next to me in bed, makes me feel like I want to protect her—even if I don’t know what I want to protect her from.

But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that Margot doesn’t need protecting. If anything, after last night, I might need protection from her. There’s a good chance she’ll wake up mad as hell after the stunt I pulled.

It sounds like Janet and Drew are already making breakfast downstairs, and I wonder if Matt and Rae are awake yet. I go to move out of bed, but Margot stirs next to me, and I freeze.

Her eyes flutter open and then widen as soon as she registers I’m the one next to her. She shoots up, sitting in the bed and immediately fixing her hair, throwing it up into a new bun.

“Morning,” she says with a faint smile, but her eyes never stay on me for more than half a second.

“Morning,” I answer, watching her with a pinched brow and waiting for her to actually look at me.

When she does, it’s only for a moment.

“How’d you sleep?” I can’t read her like this.

She bobs her head a few times and says, “Fine. You?” while she checks her phone.

“Margot.” I don’t want her to act like this. I can handle her drunk, pissed off, happy, sad—I can handle all of those just fine, but I can’t handle her avoiding me and putting up walls because she’s embarrassed.

She finally looks at me, those big, brown eyes wide and vulnerable. “Why did you do that?” she demands, even though her voice is soft.

I frown. I didn’t think she’d bring it up. “I wanted to kiss you.”

Past tense.

It’s partially a lie. I still want to kiss her, but at least this way we can move past it.

She opens her mouth but then closes it, clearly caught off guard by my honesty. “Have you ever thought about that before last night?” she asks as she fidgets with her phone.

I know what she’s doing. She wants to know if last night was a fluke.

If I were staying at college, I’d probably lie to her. I’d tell her it was a random thought and that I’m over it. It would make things go back to the way they were before—no embarrassment and no hard feelings. But I have nothing to lose, so I just say, “Yeah.”

Her eyes snap up to meet mine. “You have?”

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