“Oh, I want it all right.” With one quick gesture, he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close, leaving me gasping. “But forget the porn,” he says. “What I want is you. This project. This moment. And thank god I’ve got everything I want right here in front of me.”
My heart flutters in my chest. “Me, too,” I say as he pulls me down for a long, slow kiss. And though I mean the words with all my heart, I can’t help but fear what tomorrow might bring.
That’s okay, though. Because he’s right; this moment is perfect.
And right now, that is enough.
thirteen
I’m kicked back in Jackson’s Porsche, eyes closed, jamming to the latest release from Dominion Gate, a Finnish heavy metal band that Jackson says he wants to hear live when they tour in a couple of weeks. They’re not bad, especially when they’re turned up so loud that you’re forced to move with the music because it’s reached inside your body and grabbed hold of all your major organs.
When my phone rings, I don’t actually hear it—because how could I?—and it’s a wonder I even feel it vibrate, considering the way the car is shaking from the bass. But I’d taken it out to check the wiki on the band, and I’ve been holding it in my lap, and when my palm vibrates more than the rest of me, I realize that I’ve got a call.
I glance at the phone, see that it’s Cass, and gesture for Jackson to dial back the music.
He does, but he punctuates the action with a grin and a mouthed wimp.
I roll my eyes and hit the speaker.
“Fucking awesome,” she says, skipping preliminaries like “hello” or “how’s it going?”
“I’ll assume that means you got my message?” I’d texted her before we left the office about Jackson’s glorious reinstatement.
“Not only did I get it, I have performed a ritual sacrifice to the gods.”
“How very energetic of you.”
“Naturally, the gods have showered their wisdom upon us and revealed their grand celebratory plan to me.”
“Um.”
I catch Jackson’s eye. I can’t tell if he’s amused or if he fears that my best friend is a crazy person. “I’m not entirely sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” I admit.
I can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Where are you?”
I’ve been so overwhelmed by the decibel level inside the car that I hadn’t been paying attention to our surroundings. I glance outside. “We’re on the 10. Not to the 405 yet. Why?”
“Because we’re going to celebrate. Or haven’t you been listening?”
I laugh. “We’re going home. Tomorrow’s a full work day. Plus, I’m starving.”
“That is such bullshit,” she says. “You can have sex anytime. Westerfield’s in thirty. No excuses.”
Now I’m having no trouble reading Jackson. Definitely amused. But as for whether he wants to go get sweaty on a dance floor, I can’t say. And since he’s keeping his eyes on the road, he’s not really helping.
“Cass. Seriously, I don’t know.”
“Bullshit. You’re coming. There’s a limited window of opportunity for celebrating something like this. I mean, unless Damien kicks him off again, how many times do we get to have a reinstatement party?”
“She has a point,” Jackson says.
“See?” Cass says. “Am I on speaker?”
“No. You’re just loud.”
“Double bullshit. At any rate, Zee even said she was coming.”
“Really?” Despite having met Cass at a party, Zee never seems to want to go out. So I know this is kind of huge.
“Really,” Cass confirms. “So you have to come. It’s like a rule or something.”
I glance at Jackson, who lifts a shoulder. “If it’s a rule …”
I shake my head, because I can’t argue with both of them. “Can we at least run home and change?”
“Are you wearing clothes?”
“Shockingly, I did go to work dressed today.”
“Then no. What you’re wearing will do.”
“Cassidy!”