Page 196 of Wait for Him

The door opens beside me, and I turn my face away immediately. I don't want James walking out here and finding me crying, then deciding it has anything to do with him. He was wonderful last night and all morning, but I've started noticing this little flinch every time I get quiet or emotional. He watches my face too closely. Asks if I'm okay too quickly. He's trying to keep me happy because some part of him is scared I'll disappear again if he gets this wrong.

He hasn't said that. He doesn't need to.

I've told him I'm not leaving him again. I've told him he gets to be completely himself with me, that he doesn't need to edit a single piece of who he is to make me stay. I just want to know him. All of him.

"Rosalie."

Jackson.

The door clicks shut behind him.

"Bennet's asking if you want anchov..." He stops when he sees me and comes around to stand in front of me. "Hey."

His voice changes on that one word.

Old Jackson.

My Jackson.

And fuck, I am not equipped for him right now.

“Hey."

He pulls me into his arms before I can decide whether that's a good idea, pressing my head to his chest and letting me cry.

God, I've missed this. His arms. His scent. The steady beat of his heart under my ear. It's the first time we've hugged in over a year, and once my body realizes that, the tears get worse instead of better.

I hold onto him for a few seconds longer than I should.

Then Rian's face comes to mind.

The wedding is three weeks away.

Rian's Jackson. Not mine.

I pull back and wipe my face quickly. "Sorry." I clear my throat because I currently sound like a congested chipmunk. "Sorry about that. I was just talking to Samson and it got emotional."

Jackson slides his hands into his pockets. "You don't have to apologize. Are you okay?"

I nod far too aggressively, creating some awful hybrid between a nod and a bow that no adult woman should ever perform in public. "Yeah. I'm good. Great, even. What were you going to ask me?"

He just looks at me.

Direct eye contact. No escape route. He's been doing that since I came back, and it's deeply fucking unsettling.

"Anchovies."

I blink. "Anchovies?"

"Yeah. Um." He scratches the back of his neck and looks toward the ceiling. "Bennet wants to know if you want anchovies on one of the pizzas."

"Oh." Jesus Christ. All that intensity for fish. "Okay. I was headed back in anyway. I'll tell him. Thanks."

I nod again.

Why am I still nodding?

Why does this man reduce me to malfunctioning body language now?