Page 54 of Sweet Like Whiskey

“I know,” my mom says in my ear. “But I guess he has some things to say.”

“And he couldn’t wait for me to call him back?” I wonder aloud, scrubbing over my eyes before I let out a groan. What could he possibly have to say that’s so important it warranted a trip out here? “Thanks for letting me know, Mom.”

“Of course. Call me soon, and we’ll catch up.”

“Sounds good. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

When I hang up, Jackson is watching me. Waiting. It’s a simple thing, really, but I like the fact that he wants to know what’s going on. That he isn’t running.

“My ex is coming,” I tell him. “Because I wasn’t answering my phone.”

His brow pinches. “That’s…”

“Rash?” I supply.

He grunts, and I huff a laugh. Shaking my head, I pull up Nicholas’s number and hit call. It rings and rings and then goes to voicemail.

“Of fucking course,” I mutter, just as there’s a beep. “Nicholas, give me a call, please. I’ll answer.”

I hang up and switch over to my text thread with Virginia.

Me: Nicholas is on his way here. He doesn’t know my address, so he might head to your place. Keep an eye out?

Jackson clears his throat. “Is there any chance of you two—”

“No,” I say immediately, meeting his gaze head-on. “We’re done. Completely.”

He nods, brow furrowed. My phone pings.

Virginia: No need, baby boy. I have my eyes on him right now. He’s here.

“Well, shit,” I puff out. “I guess I’m going for a ride.”

“We,” Jackson says definitively, standing up.

There’s a stutter in my chest. A sway and a settle that reminds me distinctly of being on Shorty’s back. “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” Jackson grunts. “We can get that lunch while we’re in town.”

My lips quirk. “Jackson Darling,” I say slowly. “You better watch out.”

“For what?” he asks a little warily.

I give him a smile, tucking my yoga pad underneath my arm. “You keep saying stuff like that, and you might not ever see the end of me.”

He does his best to look put-out, but I don’t miss the satisfaction in his eyes. “So long as you stop calling me cute.”

“I make no promises,” I answer. “Now, come on. Better not leave fate waiting.”

Jackson drives us into town in his truck. He’s quiet on the way, and I leave him to his silence, my own thoughts occupied with why Nicholas flew all the way across the country just to speak to me.

He never once tried to stop me from leaving.

Jackson pulls into an empty spot in front of The Barrel and shuts off his truck. Virginia told us to meet them inside, seeing as her apartment is within walking distance and the bar will be closed for a few hours still. Good neutral ground.

I grab the door handle, but something stops me from getting out.

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