The next afternoon, shortly after I leave out a grocery bag filled with leftover pizza and cookies, I sit on the back porch and stare out into the forest for several minutes, trying to figure Jackson out.
I’d call his mood mercurial, but it’s not, not really.
From the moment I saw him, this attraction sprang up. It was so intense that I honestly thought we’d have slept together by now. The attraction is still there, I mean, it’s not like Jackson makes any attempt to hide his erection from me. Or maybe he does, and it’s not his fault it pokes me in the back when he hauls me close to kiss my neck in the morning.
Who can say?
But it’s like Jackson’s priorities have shifted from convincing me to have sex with him to… something else. Only I don’t know what that is. Case in point is last night when I started rummaging in the refrigerator for ingredients. Seconds later, Jackson was saying that we should order a pizza because I cook so much that I should take a night off.
I was too shocked at the time to tell him I liked cooking, that by the time I opened my mouth he’d already guided me to the lounge, and sat me down before heading out for pizzas.
He came back with three large pizzas: one vegetable that he said could take the place of a salad, a pepperoni, and a meat supreme.
It was… nice. He didn’t even try to kiss me once.
And then this morning, when I told him I needed to head into town to do some shopping, he offered to take me. Not only that, but he waited around without complaining even once about me spending two hours in the grocery store, and I don’t know a single guy who wouldn’t have.
So, I don’t know what he wants. I don’t know if this is just his way of apologizing because he called the boy dangerous and he realized that maybe he was wrong.
Although I could call or text Savannah to find out from Jeremy if this is just Jackson being Jackson, I don’t want to interrupt what is probably a super romantic Paris holiday.
Twenty minutes after I’ve plopped myself down on the porch, I realize the boy isn’t likely to appear if I’m sitting right there, so I get up. While it would be nice to think he trusted me already, I know it’s still way too soon for that.
But that didn’t stop you from picking up some sweatpants and a top that looked like they might fit the boy, now did it?
Although nudity isn’t something we shifters ever really think about, I figure maybe he might appreciate a shower and some clean clothes-or any clothes-down the line, if that is, I can get him to trust me enough to want to stay in the house.
With Jackson back at the building site, I decide to take advantage of the mild weather and go for a short walk.
Again, I’m back in denim shorts, another camisole, and bare feet with my hair in a braid. I could go in and slip some shoes on, but this walking in the forest with bare feet thing is something I picked up from Talis and it’s strangely freeing.
If I wasn’t sure Jackson would lose his shit about me shifting during the day, I’d go for a run, public forest or not. But going for a run on public land is so beyond dangerous that I’m not about to risk it.
I could walk over to the Dawley-Stone Forest and run there, but with it being the middle of the day, again, it’s not the best idea. As there’s no physical divide between public and private land, it’d be the easiest thing in the world for some hiker to stumble on me sunbathing in my wolf shape.