Fast City Slow Hearts

16 | twitterpated

Besos y abrazos,

Paz

Google Translate had me smiling. Paz was a Godsend.

After a kitchen raid, I was on my way to the jacuzzi with a half-empty bottle of champagne and four chocolate chip cookies, courtesy of someone Matthew had called Trader Joe – whoever that was.

I punched the button for the jets, abandoning my towel as the dawn muted the late summer sky.

I felt warm and anxious. I felt caught between warring emotions.

I took a swig from the bottle, wondering if I had a drinking problem.

"Hey."

I hurried to swallow the last of the liquid in my mouth, turning to see Jackson rocking on his heels, hands stuffed into the pockets of his athletic-looking chinos.

"Hi."

"You okay?"

I stuck my feet in the now-bubbling water, perching on the edge, "I think so."

He nodded, "For what it's worth, I wish this wasn't happening to you."

I smirked, setting the bottle beside me, "Me too."

"Do you... regret coming?"

"No. I guess I just hadn't thought past getting into the room," I smiled, shrugging.

"I can understand that."

"It was my idea... you know, for Matthew to divulge the truth about me. It seemed like a good idea. In theory."

"It was a good idea – it was a selfless idea. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt a little."

I nodded, "I feel like things are changing quicker than a cat on a hot tin roof."

He shook his head, "You're tough. I think you're gonna give this town a run for its money."

I craned my neck to look at his eyes, "You think so?"

"Absolutely."

"You wanna sit?"

A beat and then, "I probably shouldn't."

"It's your job to watch me, ain't it?"

His lips formed a pleasant smirk, "It isn't my job to partake in activities with you."

"Are you on duty?"

"No, not technically."

"And you're allowed to use the facilities?"

His mouth frowned, "Yeah..."

"You'll hurt my feelings if you don't, at least, have a damn cookie with me," I scooted the plate closer to his frame.

With a soft grunt, he sat down, removing his shoes and socks before rolling his pant legs up.

"You're lucky I'm a sucker for chocolate chip," he gave me a funny look before snagging one of the disc-shaped baked goods.

"Well?" My nose crinkled as if awaiting bad news.

He nodded, turning the cookie in his hand, "It's got a good ratio of chips to dough. Soft."

"If it's bad, blame Joe."

"Who's Joe?"

"I think he's the one who came up with the recipe, but I can't be too sure."

Jackson studied me, a bewildered smile on his face. "You're a funny one."

"Takes one to know one."

Jackson kicked water at me with his foot, taking another bite.