It Started With A Concussion ✔️

Chapter 12

And way too close for comfort.

Immediately I felt this feeling in the pit of my stomach that made my legs run numb.

I leaned back and turned my head forward so I was facing in front of myself again.

What the hell?

That's all I could think of.

The worst part was now my brain was going to run a marathon overthinking what we were just doing and especially what I was telling myself, unless I distracted myself—went off topic.

"You're weird." I ease out a laugh.

"If by weird you mean infuriatingly hot, then yes." he compliments himself and I smirk.

There we go. Back to normal. Nothing has changed.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." I roll my eyes.

"Ok, so tell me." he urges.

"Tell you what?" I glance over my shoulder and see that he hasn't moved an inch from where he originally was.

"Tell me I'm infuriatingly hot and I'll have the best nights rest I've ever had." he gives me a lopsided smile.

I scoff and shake my head. Absolutely not. "Let's go home." I offer.

"Not until you tell me I'm infuriatingly hot." he contests.

"I'll tell you in the car." I lie.

This persuaded him enough to start standing up. I follow quickly as he uses the railing to get up.

"Be careful." he warns me.

"Why should I be careful?" I ask him.

"Because you're terrible in heels." he tells me while taking my hands and leading me down the steps.

I scoff. "Like you're any better at walking when you're drunk." I argue.

I reach the bottom of the steps, waiting for a response, which I don't ever get. Jackson ends up pulling me until I walk next to him.

I hear him mumble something but just like before, I don't pick up on it. Holding onto his arm we walk to his car and get in.

Driving away from the venue we last a few minutes in silence before his patience wears thin.

"Are you going to tell me now?" he asks.

"Nope." I say, keeping my eyes on the road.

"I knew you were lying." he mutters.

"Yet I think you believed me." I retaliate as I stop at a red light.

"So you're not gonna tell me?" he asks again.

I take a quick glance and find his head leaning against the window.

He's not making it home awake.

"No." I tell him again.

"Your loss." His voice was increasingly lower than before.

"My win actually." I smile and recall what he said earlier. He's about to have the best night's sleep in his car.

I step on the gas as the light turns green. Hearing him shift in his seat I can only assume he's falling asleep.

As I continue to drive home I become exhausted myself. It was late, my feet hurt from these stupid heels, and I just wanted to lay down under the sheets of my own bed.

Part of me wishes I was the one in the passenger's seat barely awake, but I had a few more minutes until I could do that.

Parking outside his house I turn the car off and walk around to his door. Opening it, I tap him awake and get him out of the car.

I really have to hold onto him as he stumbles up to the door. "Please don't let my mom see me like this." he pleads as I open the door.

"Then stop being loud." I whisper. "You're dragging your feet. Take your shoes off."

"Yes ma'am." I watch him roll his eyes at my order, but he ends up following them anyway and taking his shoes off.

I do the same as well and leave my heels by the doorway. Walking him upstairs I told him to go slowly to limit the creaking the wooden steps made.

We try our best and it works for the most part, although a few loud creaks were made, I would say it was a pretty successful attempt.

I escorted him to his room and finally let go of his arm. I should've left after that, but it was like something compelled me to stay a little longer.

I don't know what it was, but one thing's for sure.

I didn't like it.

I stepped out of his room and closed the door, telling him to change. I leaned against the wall and waited for a few minutes.

I heard shuffling inside before the door opened and he stood shirtless, in just pajama pants, next to me.

"You actually stayed?" he yawned, looking down at me.

"Well I have to make sure you go bed and not do something stupid like you usually do." I explain and push myself off the wall.

I walk past him and pull the covers back. He sits down and gets under them with a groan.

"What?" I ask him in a whisper, pulling the covers over him.

"My head is killing me." he complains.

I let out a breathy laugh. "That's why you ask Trevor what you're drinking before you drink it." I informed him.

"If you were me you really didn't have the time to do that." he argues.

"If I were you I wouldn't take, like, six different girls to prom." I voice my opinion on his choices.

He rolls over with a groan and stares at me with his head against the pillow. "Shut up."

I smooth out the covers over his shoulders and stand up. "Goodnight Jackson." I shake my head and turn around.

He doesn't say another word as I shut his door. Walking down the steps I put my heels back on and wobble back to my own house.

As soon as I step foot through the door, I practically rip my heels off and carry them into my room. Heading into my bathroom I wipe off my makeup and get ready for bed.

The second I turn my lights off, slip under the covers, and lay my head on my pillow, my eyes begin to close.

Why I struggled to fall asleep became clear when my mind kept going back to what happened on those steps.

It was way too intense for my liking and I was starting to feel weird the more I thought about it.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You're thinking too much about it. It wasn't even anything like that. So stop pretending it was.

I was yelling at myself for a good five minutes before I finally got it through my head that nothing happened.

But deep down I knew one thing.

This wasn't good.

•
•
•
•
•

They had a moment already?! Shocking.

Plus Em and these emotions...

Thoughts???