“It was really nice to meet you, Ember.” I squeezed, too, and let go. Three heartbeats later he stood in front of me, his hair still wet from the shower.
“Hey.” His voice sent a ripple through me.
“Hey.”
“Well, as awkward as this whole situation looks, I think I’d like to get home.” Josh tossed Ember over his shoulder. Her squeal of protest and delight echoed off the brick walls. “You good, man?”
Jagger waved him off. “I’ll take my time.”
Josh smiled. “Appreciate it!”
“Joshua Walker!” Ember’s voice faded as they left.
We stood there, staring at each other in a game of nonverbal chicken. His eyes trapped my breath in my chest until I gave in. “I can’t do our lessons anymore.”
One of his eyebrows rose. “And you drove all the way to Montgomery to tell me that?”
“You haven’t returned a text or a phone call.”
He stared at me, peeling back my soul layer by layer until I had to break eye contact. “Are you mad at me?” I asked. He was silent, and it took forever for me to drag my eyes over his chest, fixating on his Led Zeppelin T-shirt and the muscles it clung to.
“Are you mad at me?” he countered.
“I asked you first.” I looked up at him.
“Are we in kindergarten?” His grin broke the tension.
“I didn’t lie, I promise. Or at least, I didn’t mean to. I just don’t like talking about my father.”
“I understand.” The sudden, solemn set of his mouth said maybe he really did. “I should have told you I’m in flight school.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? It’s not something to be ashamed of.”
He looked away. “There are very few things I’m scared of. But the big one? That’s failure.”
“But you’re not failing, are you? Will says you’re neck and neck with him for top of the OML. A pain in his rear end, but smart.” Actually, Will had a healthy dose of jealousy over Jagger, but it would be the ultimate betrayal to let that secret slip.
He sucked in his breath through his teeth. “I know this sucks, but can we agree not to talk about Will?”
I cringed but understood. We both liked the little bubble we had here. “I think we can do that. But you’re not failing.”
“Not yet.” He nodded toward the door. “I’ll walk you out.” He rolled his gear behind him and held the door open for me. I tried not to touch him, but he nearly filled the doorway. My skin tingled at every inch we’d made contact.
“What does that mean?” My narrowed gaze locked onto his profile as we walked toward the parking lot. Why was he so hard to get answers out of? “Why do you say that you haven’t failed yet?”
“I almost got kicked out over that damned bear. Then again when your dad realized I hadn’t been kicked out. I fuck stuff up, Paisley. I let people down. I walk out. I didn’t tell you because then you’d know when I failed. It’s what I do.”
My hand covered his on my door handle. “You’re not going to fail. I don’t think you have it in you.”
He leaned down to where our noses nearly met. My heart thundered, and my lips parted without thought. “I hate to break this to you, but disappointing people is my specialty.”
I didn’t back away, or down, like he was daring me to. “You’ve never disappointed me.”
His jaw locked. “Honesty, right? That’s our deal?”
I nodded, despite my hesitation. “Honesty.”
“My disappointing you is inevitable. It’s only a matter of how far I fall down the fuckup trail, and whether or not you give me another chance. Look at where we are. You can’t even swim with me because your boyfriend hates me, and that’s just the beginning. I fuck things up.”
My thumb stroked over his hand absently, like it wasn’t my decision. I chose my words carefully. “I preemptively forgive you for whatever it is you think you’ll fail me at. That’s what friends do, Jagger. They forgive each other when they make mistakes.” The intense heat in his eyes stilled the breath in my chest, and in that moment every future I could imagine seemed open, possible, even though I knew better. “In fact, I brought you something.”
I opened the door and pulled the small box from the driver’s door, handing it to him. His brow puckered, and mercy, it was cute, boyish. “Your first flight is this week, right?”
“Yeah, our first flight with our instructor pilots.” He opened it and took out the shiny nickel I’d placed in there last night. “Paisley—”
“They call that your nickel flight,” I explained, cutting off anything he was going to say, mostly because I wasn’t sure how to handle it—how to handle him. “You’re supposed to give your IP a nickel for your first ride, and it’s extra luck if it’s your birth year.”
He examined it closely, his eyes lighting up when he saw that I’d correctly guessed his birth year. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t, just a guess. I have two other nickels in the car in case I was wrong.”
He wrapped his arms around me, our bodies flush, and kissed the top of my forehead slowly. Chills morphed into flames as they raced down my spine, and I sinfully imagined what those lips might feel like on mine. “Thank you,” he whispered against my skin. My arms wound around his back, and I ignored the dips and curves of his muscles as best I could. Which was not at all; they consumed every thought. I let myself sink into the feel of him for a moment.