do.
“Fine. So about this whole work situation…we need to talk.”
“Okay, what’s up?” Jackson instantly looked relieved when I didn’t badger him any further about his brunette visitor, and turned curious at the mention of work.
Clearing my throat, I pulled at my shirt collar and summoned the words Whitney armed me with last night. She was right. I needed the money, and if Jackson was a real friend, which I didn’t doubt he was, then he’d understand, no matter how pissed he’d be about my decision. “It’s nothing personal, man, but I’m going to accept the extra hours at the shop. My dad’s been helping me out since I moved out here, and I just can’t take his help anymore. I hope you understand.”
A flicker of disappointment passed over his face, but he responded with a resigned sigh. “That’s okay, dude. I understand.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry I put you on the spot like that…and I’m sorry I tried to blame you. This isn’t your problem.”
“It isn’t?” I stared blankly at him, shocked that he was taking this so well. Maybe this whole being assertive thing worked, after all.
“Of course not,” he said, “I was just stressed. But I found a way to borrow some more money. It should get me by for a little while longer.” He tossed a distracted glance past me, toward the cabin door, his gaze lingering for a second before he snapped out of it. “So go for it, man. Take the hours. We’re cool.” He reached out to clap hands with me, leaning in to pat me on the back.
Curiosity prompted me to ask him where he’d borrowed the money from and what kind of business he needed to square away with Natasha, but I wisely decided to leave it all alone, opting for easy, less intrusive conversation instead. “Okay, well…I’m glad to hear it. I can’t stay, I have to get home and get some stuff done before my shift this afternoon, I just wanted to swing by and settle all that first.”
“No worries. I work at the club tonight. I’ll be at the shop tomorrow, so see you then.”
“Sounds good.” I turned to leave, feeling instant relief for how this thing had played out—minus the visitor I’d found in Jackson’s cabin—but was stopped when I opened the door.
“Nothing happened with me and Natasha, Carter.”
“Your business, man.”
“No,” Jackson’s voice turned hard, “I mean it.” He walked forward to look me straight in the eyes. “Nothing at all. Not for a while, anyway. Since Emma told me how she feels, I’ve…I’m not screwing around, okay? I don’t want anyone else.”
“I hear ya, man. It’s cool.”
He held my gaze for a moment, as if studying me to make sure I believed him. I didn’t give him a second longer to analyze, stepping out of the cabin and into the hot, muggy morning air. Regardless of how things looked when I showed up at his place, and despite Natasha’s questionable visit, I actually believed him. But whether I believed him or not meant nothing. Jackson had to figure it out for himself and deal with whatever he did—or didn’t do—with his busty co-worker.
The morning rolled right along while I ran a load of laundry, nabbed a shower, and knocked out a few more notes for the song I’d been working on. Just as I’d finished getting dressed for work, my cell phone screamed from the dresser, this time relentless in its effort to get my attention. I didn’t need to glance at the caller ID to know who it was.
“Hi Dean,” I drawled, finally ready to talk. Kate wasn’t nearly as obnoxious with her nonstop phone calls. She knew when to give it a rest.
“The only acceptable excuse you’d have for neglecting to answer my calls is that Kate Middleton herself has stolen you away and ditched William for you.”
“I haven’t been ignoring you, dude. I’ve just been busy.” That was partly the truth. I really had been busy. The other part, which was hard for me to explain to Dean without hurting his feelings, was that I
“Fine. So about this whole work situation…we need to talk.”
“Okay, what’s up?” Jackson instantly looked relieved when I didn’t badger him any further about his brunette visitor, and turned curious at the mention of work.
Clearing my throat, I pulled at my shirt collar and summoned the words Whitney armed me with last night. She was right. I needed the money, and if Jackson was a real friend, which I didn’t doubt he was, then he’d understand, no matter how pissed he’d be about my decision. “It’s nothing personal, man, but I’m going to accept the extra hours at the shop. My dad’s been helping me out since I moved out here, and I just can’t take his help anymore. I hope you understand.”
A flicker of disappointment passed over his face, but he responded with a resigned sigh. “That’s okay, dude. I understand.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry I put you on the spot like that…and I’m sorry I tried to blame you. This isn’t your problem.”
“It isn’t?” I stared blankly at him, shocked that he was taking this so well. Maybe this whole being assertive thing worked, after all.
“Of course not,” he said, “I was just stressed. But I found a way to borrow some more money. It should get me by for a little while longer.” He tossed a distracted glance past me, toward the cabin door, his gaze lingering for a second before he snapped out of it. “So go for it, man. Take the hours. We’re cool.” He reached out to clap hands with me, leaning in to pat me on the back.
Curiosity prompted me to ask him where he’d borrowed the money from and what kind of business he needed to square away with Natasha, but I wisely decided to leave it all alone, opting for easy, less intrusive conversation instead. “Okay, well…I’m glad to hear it. I can’t stay, I have to get home and get some stuff done before my shift this afternoon, I just wanted to swing by and settle all that first.”
“No worries. I work at the club tonight. I’ll be at the shop tomorrow, so see you then.”
“Sounds good.” I turned to leave, feeling instant relief for how this thing had played out—minus the visitor I’d found in Jackson’s cabin—but was stopped when I opened the door.
“Nothing happened with me and Natasha, Carter.”
“Your business, man.”
“No,” Jackson’s voice turned hard, “I mean it.” He walked forward to look me straight in the eyes. “Nothing at all. Not for a while, anyway. Since Emma told me how she feels, I’ve…I’m not screwing around, okay? I don’t want anyone else.”
“I hear ya, man. It’s cool.”
He held my gaze for a moment, as if studying me to make sure I believed him. I didn’t give him a second longer to analyze, stepping out of the cabin and into the hot, muggy morning air. Regardless of how things looked when I showed up at his place, and despite Natasha’s questionable visit, I actually believed him. But whether I believed him or not meant nothing. Jackson had to figure it out for himself and deal with whatever he did—or didn’t do—with his busty co-worker.
The morning rolled right along while I ran a load of laundry, nabbed a shower, and knocked out a few more notes for the song I’d been working on. Just as I’d finished getting dressed for work, my cell phone screamed from the dresser, this time relentless in its effort to get my attention. I didn’t need to glance at the caller ID to know who it was.
“Hi Dean,” I drawled, finally ready to talk. Kate wasn’t nearly as obnoxious with her nonstop phone calls. She knew when to give it a rest.
“The only acceptable excuse you’d have for neglecting to answer my calls is that Kate Middleton herself has stolen you away and ditched William for you.”
“I haven’t been ignoring you, dude. I’ve just been busy.” That was partly the truth. I really had been busy. The other part, which was hard for me to explain to Dean without hurting his feelings, was that I
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