Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
A pause, another message.
Jack: Or I’m literally mansplaining your emotions to you. In which case, tell me to STFU.
I laugh-cry again, heat swelling inside of me, warmth and affection and somehow, all good things. It’s like when he noticed little things on the stream, things no one else ever has… but times a million.
Dakota: That’s exactly it.
I look at my screen through tear-blurred eyes.
Dakota: It’s like you’ve read my mind. Seriously. How did you do that?
Jack: My father was very similar. He was away all the time, but when he was home, it was like he had to act like the big, impressive tough guy to make up for it. That was why my mother wanted her own business. And why its failure hit her so hard. I hate that I ever made you think I’d be like that. I wasn’t trying to trick you with that cove, I swear.
Dakota: I know that now. I think I knew it then, even.
Jack: We can’t change our programming. We can recognize it’s wrong. It’s not helping us. We might behave differently. But the sad fact is, it will always be there. I’ll have days when I’m a grumpy prick, and you might sometimes want to slap me for buying you flowers. I can live with that if you can.
More cry-laughter escapes me, a mix of emotion that has my head spinning.
Dakota: Do you think I’m being melodramatic?
Jack: No. I wish you’d stop downplaying your feelings. You don’t need to. Not with me. Not ever.
Dakota: Do you see why I’m being careful? My mom was strong and independent before she got married. My parents are divorced now. She’s opened up a lot in later years. She was like me—and he shrunk her.
Jack: I will never shrink you.
But that’s the sticking point. Just being together will mean I have to shrink. I’ll turn from an independent, successful streamer, a self-made woman, into, Oh yeah, I know that girl, she’s Jackson Cross’s girlfriend or something, right? Oh, she streams too?
Jack: What are your plans for the rest of the night?
Dakota: It’s 1:30AM
Jack: Tell me, Dakota.
Dakota: Uh, sleep? Unless you have a different idea?
Jack: Driving over there right now. Holding you. Doing everything I can to keep it sweet and sincere and not give into the lust that burns through me every time I so much as think about you.
Dakota: You’d really drive over here now?
Jack: I’m on my way. So you better tell me to stop before I get too far.
Dakota: I want to see you. But it’s not simple, Jack. I don’t think it’s ever going to be simple.
Jack: Forget about my company. Forget about your career. Forget about the storm raging outside, beautiful. Tonight, you’re just a woman who needs a hug, and I’m the man who needs to give it. Plus, I want to show you something.
Dakota: Not another surprise for me to ruin?
Jack:
Jack: You didn’t ruin it, because it led to this. I want to bring a photo album. It’s got photos of my mother and me.
Dakota: I’d love to see those!
Jack:
Jack: Do you have any of Noah? I’d like to see this magical little kid who changed your whole life.
Dakota: Only about a million!
Jack: Perfect. I’ll be there soon.
I drop my phone and rush to the mirror. I’m wearing a baggy T, no bra, and my hair is still damp from my post-stream shower. My PJ shorts have got a hole—they’re my comfy pair—and I haven’t shaved my legs. Mara has sometimes playfully joked, in a friendly way, about me having the world’s fastest-growing leg hair.
Should I shave? Change? I want him to see me at my best, but also, he’s coming here for emotional connection. There are still tears in my eyes. He’s not expecting a show.
Maybe I should start with some shorts that don’t have holes in, at least, and go from there. I go to my closet and take out a fresh pair. I’m debating which T-shirt to change into when a text arrives.
Jack: I’m outside.
Dakota: That was fast!
Jack: I was at the office.
Dakota: At one in the morning?
Jack: This redesign has sprawled into a dungeon with multiple levels—more like a raid, honestly—and multiple new caves for the role players. It’s a lot.
Dakota: You work too hard.
I look at myself in the mirror again. Screw it. If he can’t take tiny little black pinpricks on my exposed legs, is there even a shot at a real relationship?
Dakota: I’m coming down now.
CHAPTER 22
JACKSON
When she answers the door in shorts and a T, no bra, I almost lose it. She’ll never stop having this effect on me, instant lust, hunger, physical need. I almost drop the photo album that’s tucked under my arm.
“Are you trying to drive me nuts?” I say, sweeping one arm around her waist and pulling her in for a hug.