“Right back at you, asshole,” I toss at him, anger filling me as I turn and head straight for his bedroom door.
I’m fast, but he’s faster. He’s got me pinned to the door before I can even open it, his hot, hard body pressing into mine. I lift my chin, glaring at him, and he dips his head, his alcohol-tinged breath wafting over my face.
He’s drunk. I need to remember that. He’s not in the right frame of mind.
“You want me to confess my feelings?” he asks. “Here we go. I need you in my life, Ellie. And I want you. I want you so damn bad, it’s all I can think about right now. But I can’t take it to the next step with you, because I will mess it up. I guarantee it. Whatever expectations you have of me in your head? The reality will not meet. I’m a mess. I make mistakes. And I’m not loyal. Not to women.”
His words leave me confused, but he also said he wanted me. He wants me.
I need to stand strong. “You’re just afraid to commit. You can’t even take a record deal when they’re throwing them at you like candy.”
His eyes narrow as his hand comes up to touch my cheek. My skin burns where his fingers press. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Uh, I think I do. We’re pretty close, Jackson. You’ve told me a lot of stuff over the years,” I remind him. “I think I have you pretty well figured out.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I’ve got you figured out too,” he says, his voice taunting, despite the gentle way he touches me. Such a contradiction. Typical Jackson. “You’re just a lonely, scared virgin who puts all your hopes and dreams on a guy like me who keeps you at arm’s length because it’s safer that way.”
My mouth drops open and I jerk away from his stroking fingers. His description hurts. Only because it’s too close to the truth. “You’re such a prick.”
“I warned you.” His grin is faintly menacing, and I wonder if he’s acting like an asshole on purpose. It’s like he wants to prove a point. “I’m not good enough for you, Ellie.”
“That is the worst excuse ever,” I tell him, annoyed. He’s said that time and again, and I’m tired of hearing it.
“It’s the truth. And the truth always hurts.” He leans in close, his mouth a whisper away from mine. “Doesn’t it?”
A trembling breath leaves me and I swear he swallows it. I stare at his lips, willing them to touch mine. Yes, he’s an asshole. Yes, I will probably cry over this conversation later, but right now, all I can focus on is Jackson.
And his deliciously full lips only inches from mine.
“You want me?” he whispers.
I don’t say a word. I don’t freaking move.
“I’ve been curious.” His face shifts, his cheek pressed against mine, his mouth at my ear. “What would little Ellie Jessup do if big bad Jackson Rivers took her to his bed?”
I reach up to shove him away from me, but instead, my hands land on his broad shoulders and my fingers curl into his soft T-shirt. “You won’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“You’re too afraid of the repercussions if you did,” I answer. “The responsibility. You’d feel too guilty.”
“I’m not feeling real guilty at the moment,” he drawls.
I tilt my head back to find him watching me with an unfamiliar gleam in his eyes. Is this what it’s like, to truly be ensnared in Jackson’s web? Because this is heady stuff. Having him pressed against me, his hands braced on either side of my head, his face still so close to mine. I could rise up and fit my mouth to his, no problem. I have a feeling he’d respond without hesitation.
But where would that lead us? Past the point of no return?
Yes. I know it would. And I don’t want to risk it.
That’s my biggest problem, right? I’m not a risk taker. And Jackson Rivers is the biggest risk of my life.
I have a feeling he’d be the biggest mistake of my life too.
“Jackson,” I say, my voice a warning.
“Just one kiss, El. Give me one,” he murmurs. “You know you’ve been dying for it since the first time we met.”
I want to hit him. I want to kiss him. Not only is he a contradiction, he is my contradiction. I hate him.