His arms were muscular and tan as if he’d spent the past few days standing directly in the sun. I cleared my throat loudly, and watched his body react to the sound. He knew I was there, but he didn’t look my way.

After opening and closing my mouth a few times, I finally built up the nerve to ask him a question. “Is everything okay? I haven’t seen you around the bookshop lately, and when I called you, I didn’t get a reply.”

He swung the hammer up and then dented the hood of the car. “Been busy.”

He still hadn’t turned to look at me.

“Oh, well…okay…I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He didn’t reply.

I wished I could crawl into Jackson’s head and see what he was thinking about. I knew his issues went much deeper than he let on. I should’ve let him be and allowed him to have his alone time, but something in my heart told me not to leave. Something in my heart was asking me to stay.

“Jackson, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Jackson, come on. You can talk to—”

“Can we not fucking do this?!” he barked. The sledgehammer dropped to his side, and he finally looked up at me. “Can you just leave?” he snapped, sending chills down my back. He was acting like the monster I’d first met when I came into town, and I didn’t have a clue why.

A tear fell from my eye. His coldness stung me a lot harder than I’d thought it would. The last time I’d seen him, it had felt like we were finally getting somewhere, like he was finally knocking down the wall he’d built up over the years.

Plus, lately, he seemed like the only thing that brought me comfort, and I was convinced everyone in town was wrong about him. Now, though, he was acting exactly how the townspeople viewed him—like a nasty beast.

I sniffled a bit before wiping the tear away and then nodding. “I’m sorry.”

I turned to walk away and heard him mutter, “Shit,” before he called my name. When I turned around, he was facing me, sweat dripping down every inch of his body as if the sun was only beaming its rays on him. Every inch of him was soaked, every inch of him wet. I felt my cheeks heat as my stomach began to flip back and forth.

“I’m in a shitty mood,” he said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. I pretended the nerves forming in my gut weren’t real as I nodded his way. He crossed his arms, and kept talking. “And my mind is really messed up right now.”

He dug his palms into his eyes before he moved those same hands to his mouth and tapped repeatedly while his spoke. “Like really fucked up, but instead of trying to decipher my thoughts, or go find some shit to make me forget, I’ve decided to be in a really shitty mood and fuck up this car in my backyard. I understand where you’re coming from, and I appreciate the hand you’re reaching out to me, but if I talk to you right now, I’ll probably be an asshole, and I don’t want to be an asshole to you because you’re good. You’re a good thing, but I will break if you keep pushing me, and I can be a real asshole, Grace. Then you’ll hate me, and I’ll feel bad about it, so…I just need my alone time to feel like shit for a while.”

I nodded once more. Beating up on that car was his outlet to his anger, to his hurt. It was the safety belt keeping him from falling down the rabbit hole, and I’d interrupted that.

Walking back home, I felt foolish for crossing the line with Jackson.

How naïve was I to think he’d let me in?

28

Grace

It had been a few days since Jackson asked me to leave him alone, and I hadn’t heard a word from him until he walked over to my corner of the bookshop on a Wednesday evening.

“Hi,” he whispered, standing tall with his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his black jeans.

“Hi,” I replied just as quietly.

“I owe you an apology—” he started, but I cut him off.

“No, I owe you an apology. You made it clear that you needed time, but I didn’t listen, and I’m sorry for that. You asked for your space, and I didn’t give it to you.”

A person shushed me, but then when they saw Jackson give them an intense look, they said, “Never mind,” as they stood and walked away.

I’d never seen a stare so powerful.

He brushed his hand against the back of his neck and sighed. “I don’t know how to handle people wanting to know if I’m okay. I reacted poorly, and I just wanted to apologize for the way I treated you. You deserved better.”