Breathe Again: A Love Story Read online

  I watched as he threw his head back, laughing. Jackson laughed. At me. Again. The sound of it, that full-bodied laugh, straight from his soul, caught me unprepared. It scared me, and I frowned.

  “What?” he said, once his laughter died down and he noticed the strange look on my face.

  I just shook my head, forcing myself to take my eyes away from him. “Nothing.”

  “What is it?” he said, the laughter gone from his eyes.

  I looked at him nervously. “It’s just,” I started. “Nobody’s ever thought I was funny before.”

  “That’s a lie,” Jackson said immediately.

  I just shrugged, returning my attention back to the plate in front of me. I felt Jackson looking at me, but eventually he started eating again too.

  “It was loud growing up,” he said, pulling me from my thoughts. “I don’t know how my mom did it, but she did. And she was so happy. My dad was to. He never remarried, he was so heartbroken when she died.”

  I reached across the table, taking Jackson’s free hand. “I really am sorry Jackson. I can tell how much you loved her.”

  Jackson stared at me, and I refused to look away this time.

  “Love,” he said.

  “Love?” I asked, not understanding.

  “Just because she’s gone doesn’t mean I don’t still love her,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  I looked at him, somewhat unnerved. “Of course,” I said.

  He let me eat in silence for a few minutes before speaking, and when he did, it was the last question I wanted to hear.

  “Will you tell me about your family?” he asked. I knew it was an intentional question. I hadn’t mentioned my family much, but I really didn’t want to talk about it. Especially not after the conversation I’d just had with my mother. I put my fork down and wiped my mouth with my napkin, but kept my eyes on the plate in front of me.

  “No,” I said finally.

  His reaction proved that he wasn’t surprised by my answer.

  “So, tell me then. Why are you so…indifferent when I tell you that I think you’re beautiful.”

  I glanced up at him, annoyed. “You noticed that?” I asked.

  “I notice everything about you Mellie Rose,” he said, not moving his eyes from mine.

  I slid my finger around the rim of my empty margarita glass, but eventually I sighed, resigned.

  “It’s the same question as before,” I said. He cocked his head, looking at me curiously. He had no idea what I meant, of course. “Back home, I was always just the pretty one. My entire life, I’ve been pretty or attractive or beautiful. Everyone in my family knows it, and everyone in my little town knows it. I’ve always known it, too. It’s impossible not to, when you’re constantly told that the only thing that makes you unique, the only thing that makes you special or worth anything in life, is how beautiful you are.” I said it one breath, wanting desperately to get it out there without second-guessing myself. I knew that saying it was the end of one chapter, and the start of something new.

  Jackson was looking at me with a mixture of fascination and awe and confusion. I’d never said those things out loud, though I’d always known them.

  “What do you mean just the pretty one?” he asked, though there was no trace of anything but gentle curiosity in his voice.

  “My older brother James was always the smart one, my sister Samantha the caring one, and Emma the funny one. I’m the pretty one. Nothing more, and nothing less.”

  We stayed quiet for a while, just letting it all sink in. I was the first to break the silence.

  “I’ve been told that I’m beautiful a lot in my life, but nobody’s ever made me feel the way you do when you say it. I just wish sometimes I were more than just beautiful.”

  He didn’t speak at first, just watched me with those blue eyes that saw straight through me.

  “I think you’re beautiful Mellie,” he said finally. “More beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen. But you’re more than that. You’re much, much more than that, to me.”

  Chapter 9

  Jackson wanted to go on a walk after dinner, so I let him take my hand and we walked along the beach. I’d never been to Venice, and I couldn’t help but find the characters amusing. He indulged me, and let me stop whenever I wanted to watch a performer or drop in one of the eccentric stores along Muscle beach.

  I knew it probably wasn’t the best idea, but Jackson put on a baseball cap and those same dark aviator sunglasses he wore the day he found be outside the café, and it didn’t seem like anyone would notice. Maybe it was just Los Angeles and they were used to it by now, but I actually thought we would get away with it. I knew there were at least three bodyguards following us, though they didn’t make it obvious.

  We ended up walking all the way down to the pier, and we were so engrossed in our conversation that I didn’t notice the fingers starting to point in our direction. He held my hand tightly, and was looking down at where we were walking so he could hear me better (yes, I was that much shorter than he was), so he didn’t noticed them either. Not until the first shriek came, followed by the screams of over a dozen adults and children alike. I didn’t know what to do, just clutched Jackson’s hand in horror as they surrounded us.

  He slipped his arm around my waist, and tucked me under his arm, before motioning to the bodyguards that had been following us inconspicuously all night. They tried to dissipate the crowd, and Jackson refused to let go of my waist, but there were too many of them. I started getting dizzy as they screamed in my ears, and I tried to pull my hands away from Jackson so I could cover my ears.

  There were a few of them with cameras, and I looked down, hoping they wouldn’t catch my face. I knew it was pointless, it was going to happen eventually, we just hadn’t really had a chance to talk about it. We were too busy getting to know each other, who we were really. Jackson had seemed like such a normal guy, but I didn’t doubt now that this was most definitely a part of his life.

  I felt an elbow jam into my ribs, hard. It knocked the wind out of me, and I doubled over, clutching my stomach. I was afraid I was going to lose my dinner all over the streets of Santa Monica, but they didn’t let up. I even felt someone tug on my sweater, popping the buttons off of it. I turned into Jackson’s chest, and he wrapped an arm around me.

  “Shhhh baby, I got you,” he whispered, holding out his other arm to keep everyone away from us. They just kept yelling his name, and I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing that I was dangerously close to crying. Thankfully most of them only had iPhones or smaller cameras, but I did notice the flash of some more professional cameras in the crowd.

  As quickly as it started, it seemed to end. We were surrounded by his bodyguards, though the screeching and yelling was still there. Jackson started dragging me toward the street, and I noticed a black Escalade parked at the curb. He threw open the door, and then picked me up as if I weighed nothing to put me in the back seat. I had no idea where it came from, but I was beyond relieved to be hidden away behind the tinted windows.

  I was close to hyperventilating, so I lowered my head in between my knees, hoping that it would help the wave of nausea wracking through me. I felt Jackson next to me before he touched me. He started rubbing circles into my back, leaning down and whispering into my ear.

  I felt my heart slowing, as if it could hear Jackson all on its own. As soon as I sat up, my breathing back to normal, he had me in his arms again.

  “I’m so sorry Mellie,” he said, his lips pressed up against my ear. He pulled away, looking me over, frowning when he saw my torn sweater. “Did they get you? Are you hurt?”

  I shook my head, but I still couldn’t find my voice. My ribs really were sore, but it wasn’t anything to terrible. It was more my confidence that was shaken.

  “I’m taking you back to my apartment, it’s closer than yours. I want to make sure you’re okay,” he said, and then letting the driver know where to go.

  I shook my
head again. “No, it’s okay Jackson. I can go home, I’m fine.” I wasn’t sure that I was ready to go to his apartment. I didn’t know if I would ever be ready to go there, not after tonight.

  He studied me with his mouth in a firm line. “Please, just let me look you over real quick. And we need to talk, I’m so sorry,” he said, pulling me back close to him.

  He didn’t let me go for the rest of the trip back to his apartment. I felt him kiss my forehead and my hair, but he didn’t look at me. He just stared out the window silently as we made the twenty minute trip back to his complex.

  I didn’t know where he lived. Up until then, he hadn’t brought it up and I didn’t really feel comfortable asking him. The driver got off at Wilshire, and pulled up to a large, luxurious-looking high rise. We drove up to a gate, which opened before we could even stop. The driveway went under the building, into a parking structure full of BMWs and Land Rovers. There was no doubt in my mind that Jackson wasn’t the only celebrity living in this complex.

  We pulled up next to an elevator, and Jackson tugged my hand gently to pull me out of the car. I looked around nervously, afraid that all those people had somehow followed us here, but the structure was empty. We got onto the elevator, and I stood nervously, biting my lip and twirling a piece of my hair. Jackson still had my hand, but he hadn’t looked at me yet.

  We rode the elevator all the way to the twenty-third floor, where it opened into a large, very white hallway. He pulled me toward one of the doors near the other end of the hall, and led us inside.

  I’m not sure what I expected, but Jackson’s apartment was a lot warmer than I thought it would be. Maybe I’d just envisioned an industrial, cold bachelor pad, but this was far from it. There weren’t a lot of personal touches around the place, which made me suspect that either the furniture had been here when he moved in, or he’d had a designer come in and do it all for him. There was a lot of dark wood, and the couch looked really comfortable. It wasn’t too empty, but it wasn’t too full either. It actually felt kind of homey, in a weird way.

  “Come here,” Jackson said, leading me to the couch. He sat me down, but headed to the bar at the other end of the room instead of sitting next to me. He pulled a bottle of whiskey down from one of the shelves, and turned to me with an empty glass. I nodded, and he brought them back to where I sat.

  He poured us both glasses of Jack, though his was twice as full as mine was. I watched as he downed almost the whole glass in one gulp, before finally sitting next to me. I sipped on mine slowly, letting the burn of the alcohol fill my nostrils. It was a welcome distraction, to be honest.

  “Are you okay, really?” he asked, his eyes now firmly on me. I stared down into my glass, watching the liquid swirl, and nodded slightly. “Don’t you dare lie to me Mellie,” he said, reaching over and putting his hand under my chin. He wasn’t rough, but pulled my face toward him firmly.

  I could feel the moisture pool in my eyes, and one again blinked them back before it could fall down my cheeks.

  “I am,” I said quietly. “Someone knocked me in the ribs, but I feel okay now. Just a little sore.”

  He kept his eyes on me, and took another sip from his glass. Finally, he nodded.

  “I’m sorry that happened. I should have been thinking, that was a stupid thing to do.”

  “It’s okay Jackson, really. I wanted to see the beach and you took me. It’s my fault, if anything.”

  He slammed his glass down on the table. “It’s not your fault, goddamnit. It isn’t mine either, but fuck if it doesn’t feel like it. I’m the one who brought you out there, knowing full well what could have happened. I was an idiot for thinking that it wouldn’t. These people can spot me from a mile away, I just don’t know why they have to care so much.”

  I could see the hurt and pain in his eyes, so I pulled myself closer to where he sat on the couch and put my arms around him. He stiffened for only half a second before wrapping me up in his arms. I breathed him in, his whisky and mint scent, and felt safe again.

  That terrified me.

  I pulled myself away. “I should go Jackson,” I said quietly. It wasn’t that I wanted to leave, but I knew that I had to. I couldn’t be there, pretending like I could get involved with someone like him.

  “Please don’t go,” he whispered, and I could hear the vulnerability in his voice. I just couldn’t understand why it was so important that I stay.

  “Jackson, I shouldn’t be here,” I started, though I could feel my chest start to heave. I placed a hand over my heart, trying to tell myself to breathe, that it would be okay. That I would be okay, but I knew that none of it would. “I don’t belong here.”

  “Don’t,” he said, grabbing my hand from where I had it placed on my chest. “Don’t say that. You do belong, here with me. It’s these people, these vultures that just can’t let me live my life how I want. For the first time, I regret my career. I resent it, knowing that it’s what will hurt you in the end.”

  I pulled my hand away, and covered my face, putting my elbows on my legs. “Jackson, I’m not right for you. I’m plain, I have no prospects or true talents. I’ll just be a burden, so just let me go.” It killed me to say it, but I knew it was true. I was beautiful, sure, but that didn’t mean much when the man you wanted to be with was one of the most wanted men in the world.

  “Stop,” he said loudly, desperately. “Just stop it right now and look at me, damnit.”

  I couldn’t, I just kept my face covered with my hands, and tried to tell myself to breathe. I’d known this man for all of what, a month? And he was already threatening the walls that I’d built around myself. Around my heart.

  I felt Jackson’s hand on mine, pulling it away from my face. His other hand moved back to my chin, forcing me to look at him again. I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t look into his face and his eyes and just walk away. He saw through me, through the red lipstick and the pearls and the composed demeanor I’d built my life around. He saw me, and he knew it. He would be my undoing.

  As soon as I lifted my eyes to his, I saw the change. I saw the resolve build, right then and there. Before I could tell him no, before I could push away, he had his lips on mine.

  One hand pushed him away, while the other clung to him for dear life. His tongue broke through my barrier, and I let it, kissing him like it was the very air I needed to breathe. Before I even knew what I was doing, I pulled my leg up and over Jackson so I was straddling him on the couch.

  “Mellie,” he said hoarsely, pulling away from me much too soon. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against mine. We both panted, still clutching each other like we were only seconds before. It seemed like everything touched except for our lips, and it felt like every part of my body was on fire.

  I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to say yes; he knew I wanted to say yes. I also knew that if I did, it would eventually destroy me. But I wanted him, desperately, and the thought of not giving in was almost just as painful. So, instead of saying anything at all, I just pulled him back to me.

  It was all he needed. I felt myself lifted into his arms as he began carrying me back toward the bed. I broke the kiss, but only to move my lips from his mouth to his neck. I felt his arms shake as I began kissing and sucking the tender skin behind his ear, but I wasn’t afraid that he would drop me. He would never drop me.

  The walk from the couch to the bed seemed to take a hundred years, but we finally made it. He laid me softly down, and pulled himself on top of me, propping himself up on his elbows. But then, he just stopped. He looked down and smiled at me, though the look in his eyes was anything but chaste. His leg was nestled in between my own, and it was driving me crazy. I could still feel him all the way down to my core. I wanted him, so fucking bad it almost hurt.

  He obviously wasn’t about to make the first move, he just watched me, and as soon as I thought he was about to start kissing me again, he just nuzzled my neck with his nose.

  “God, you smell amazing,” he said, nipp
ing my ear with his teeth.

  I was a goner. I didn’t even know what I was doing anymore, I just started unbuttoning his shirt, slowly and intentionally. He pulled his nose from my neck, and watched my face as I started to undress him. I could have looked away; I normally would have. But I was feeling especially brave for some reason, and returned his gaze full force. With every button I undid, I ran my fingers under his shirt, causing him to shudder. I loved knowing that I had that power over him.

  I pulled the sleeves of his shirt off slowly, and then pulled his undershirt off over his head. I’d seen him shirtless in movies, sure, but there was nothing that could compare to seeing him in the flesh. Just feeling his bare skin under my fingers made my head spin, and I ran my hands over his solid stomach and chest. He had to have been the most beautiful thing I’d ever touched, and I savored the moment, not knowing if it would ever happen again.

  I bit my lip, and risked looking up at where he was still propped above me. His hooded eyes bore down into me, and I scooted myself up the bed so I could sit up. Maybe it was the whiskey or the adrenaline that was pumping through my veins, but I felt bold, sexy. He made me feel sexy.

  I ran my hands up his back, feeling the strong, hard muscles in his shoulders, before tangling my fingers in his hair. I pulled him toward me, and put my lips up against his ear.

  “Undress me,” I whispered, so quietly that I wasn’t even sure I said it at all.

  It was all he needed. He pulled me up against him, pressing my lips to his, and almost tore my sweater from my arms. My dress was sleeveless, so he paused to nibble on my shoulder, before unzipping the back of my dress and slipping it over my head.

  I obviously hadn’t anticipated that we would get this far, so I mentally thanked myself for actually wearing sexy underwear. The black lace bra and panty set was a splurge of mine, and a big change from the white cotton underwear that I usually wore. Apparently Jackson appreciated it too, because the groan that came from his mouth when he saw me lying there, underneath him, in all black, was pure animal.