Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
I swallowed, feeling a slight burn in my throat, but the anxiety didn’t kick in full throttle. Visualizing my throat opening, I slowly felt the muscles relax. “When I’m with him, Will isn’t always the first thought in my mind,” I admitted quietly. “I’m not saying I don’t think about him when I’m with Jackson, because I do. But he kind of fades into the background. There’s just not a lot of room for anyone else in my head when Jackson’s around.” The confession felt sinful, and I looked up at Sam, waiting for her to dole out my penance.
“I think that’s a good thing, too,” she said with a small, sad smile. “There’s always going to be a part of you that loves Will. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have room in your heart for someone else, Morgan. Or that your heart won’t grow to fit someone else in time.”
“I feel guilty,” I whispered.
“I know. And you shouldn’t. Dr. Circe said that it’s okay to start a new relationship, remember? In fact, she encouraged it at the same appointment she asked you to fill out that sheet about your not-so-stellar memories about Will.” She nodded at the worksheet that still sat empty at the end of the counter. I had a feeling it might be my first truly failed homework assignment.
How was it fair to Will that I was supposed to trash him for homework while moving forward with Jackson?
“The homework is going to have to wait. And even if I wanted Jackson, how can I expect him to understand that my emotional speed limit rivals a sloth?”
“That’s exactly what you tell him. And you want him, even if you’re not ready to admit it. I know you.” Her eyes softened in sympathy.
I shook my head.
“Okay. Tell me something you don’t like about him,” she challenged before taking a sip of her tea.
I rolled mine between my hands and brought my eyes up to meet hers. “I hate that he flies helicopters, and not just any helicopter—it’s the coast guard version of Will’s. What kind of messed-up fate is that? I hate this feeling that grips my belly when I think that if I fall for him—really and truly fall—that I won’t survive having to bury him. I know that’s really selfish of me to say considering that Grayson’s in Afghanistan—”
“Stop.” She fixed a determined stare on me. “You lost the man you loved, and I didn’t. You get to say whatever you want to me whenever you want to say it. Now you listen. Jax isn’t Grayson…or Will.”
I flinched, but I held her gaze.
“Jax is a pilot, yes, but no one shoots at him. He’s not going to Afghanistan or Iraq or anywhere like it. He’s going out there”—she pointed toward the wall of windows—“so he can save lives. That’s who that man is. He saves people. And you get to worry—God, I hate that it comes with the territory, but it does. Will’s death traumatized you, and knowing that Jax flies is going to fuck with your head. That’s understandable. That doesn’t make you a mess—it makes you human. Plus, I’ve seen that man shirtless, and I’m shocked that didn’t make your like list. Go figure, that boy is a damned pilot. You’d think we’d be better at spotting them by now.”
“I guess I have a type,” I drawled, rolling my eyes.
“Girl, don’t we all.” She grinned. “You’re just going to have to decide if all those things you like about him are outweighed by the one thing you don’t.”
Mercy, I was an idiot for even thinking about it, for contemplating doing exactly what Sam suggested and talking to Jackson about my limits and our possibilities. Maybe it made me a traitor to Will’s memory, but I wanted Jackson in my life.
What if he wouldn’t wait for me to pull my shit together? What if I couldn’t get past his job? But what would happen if I didn’t even try?
“You have one more homework assignment today, right?” Sam prodded.
I sighed. “The truck.”
“The truck.” She nodded. “Want me to come with you?”
“No, I’ve got this.” I forced a fake smile, and Sam rolled her eyes. “I do. I can do it.”
“Okay, then get out there and open that door. Ten seconds. You hear me?” she ordered as I walked past her.
“Ten seconds,” I agreed.
“And try not to beat the shit out of it this time,” she called after me as I made it out the front door.
I shut it extra hard.
Embarrassed didn’t even start to cover how I felt about that night—about what Jackson had seen before Sam forced him to go home. I’d been completely unhinged in my anger, and yet it had been the freest I’d been with my emotions since…forever.
I approached the truck like it was a wild animal ready to devour me if I turned my back. Ten seconds, I told myself. You just open the door wide and look inside the truck for ten seconds, then close it.