Page 35 of Until Tomorrow Comes
Jackson
“Oh, look!” Kat gasps, grabbing my arm and pulling me to a stop. I follow her outstretched finger and watch as a white butterfly with black stripes lands on a seashell. I chuckle, nodding my head and holding my hand out for her to drop her current shell into.
“Just take two more steps and you’ll scare the butterfly away and be able to claim the seashell as your own, Bobcat.” I snicker back at her.
She breaks her amazed stare off with the butterfly long enough to shoot me an unamused glare.
“The shell isn’t what I was pointing at, Jackass.” She motions in front of us again and I fight back a smirk at the emphasis she puts on theassportion.
It’s been almost two months since Kat came to stay with me, and a few weeks since we fell into the silent agreement to take our morning walks together. Although, I have to admit that I am growing more and more okay with being an early riser. Mostly because I look forward to spending time with Kat.
Even if it is before the sun rises.
Some mornings after a particularly rough night of dreams, we walk in complete silence. It’s refreshing to not have to say out loud that I don’t want to talk. We’ve somehow learned each other’s tells and simply keep the other company while we sort through the mess in our heads.
Other mornings though, we talk non-stop. Something that surprises me even now, having gotten used to being alone, is how much I look forward to those walks.
Kat laughs, shaking her head as she turns back to watch the butterfly take off. But I’m too caught up by the sight of her.
Rebellious strands fall from her messy bun, framing her face and highlighting the red straining her cheeks and the tops of her ears. As the sun continues to rise, her eyes shine brighter than a million diamonds. The more I stare at her, the more I discover. Up until today I hadn’t noticed the light dusting of freckles painted across her face.
The cut above her eye is healing nicely, but it likely won’t fade for a while. Other than that, there’s no longer any visible reminders of what she went through. Every now and then, when she thinks I’m not paying attention, I’ll catch her wincing or holding her ribs. Which is the main reason that I always let her set the pace for our morning walks. Knowing Kat, if I were to set the pace, she wouldn’t complain. She would push herself too far rather than risk being an inconvenience to me.
“My grandma used to tell me that the color of the first butterfly you see in the new year means something.” I say quietly, remembering my Nana’s obsession with butterfly decorations.
Kat spares me a quick glance before walking down the beach again. Today we chose to walk toward the boardwalk, but turned around after a mile and headed back to the house.
“Do you remember what she said about white ones?”
I don’t even try to fight a smile. Nodding, I watch her while I recall the random facts left behind. I wait for her hypnotic eyes to meet mine.
“White butterflies are supposed to be a symbol of good luck for the year.”
She stares up at me with a small smile as a stray curl is blown across her face. Before she can tuck it away herself, my fingers trace over her cheek, catching the strand of hair and tucking it behind her ear. Kat stares up at me, her lips part on an audible inhale. I know I should pull my hand away. I should back away and apologize.
But I don’t.
Instead, I cup her face in my palm, rubbing my thumb along her chilled cheek. When she leans into my touch, my heart skips a beat before pounding against my ribs. Her tongue peeks out to wet her lips, effectively short circuiting my brain.
I don’t even realize I’m leaning into her until our faces are only an inch apart. Her eyes flutter shut for a moment before they snap open and bore into mine. I search her eyes for a moment, briefly wondering what I’m doing and why I don’t want to stop.
“Jackson.” My name escapes her lips on a breathless sigh as she presses her body into mine. I place my hand on her hip, grateful I put the seashells she has been collecting in my pocket, and leaving my hand free to hold her to me.
She sucks in another breath as her gaze drops to my mouth.
There’s no harm in one kiss…
I’m about to throw caution to the wind and find out what her lips would feel like against mine, when the sound of a car door slamming shut causes Kat to jump back.
She glances around us, breathing heavily as she avoids looking at me.
Clearing my throat, I turn toward the house. Alarm bells ring in my head and my body tenses when I see my mom heading toward us.
“What is she doing here?” I question out loud through gritted teeth. Kat absentmindedly touches her lips, tilting her head at my question before she follows my gaze and spots my mom.
Shaking my head, I motion for Kat to lead the way.
“I guess you were right when you said old people were up before the sun.” I mumble to Kat as she passes. She chuckles, reaching back to swat at my arm.
