Race to the Top

Chapter 23

-Jackson-

My mind has been completely scrambled for the last 30 hours. One minute, I was examining Ginger's ankle and the next thing I knew, we were kissing. I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't want it...and love it. I've been attempting to move past my feelings for her for awhile. I just assumed my attraction to her was superficial but it's actually been growing the more I'm around her and in that moment, I just let go.

The thing is...I'm pretty sure she did too. She put her hand on my arm and leaned into me, I just couldn't hold back any longer.

I felt her pull back and our kiss was broken. We both apologized profusely and tried to brush it off but I can sense her unease and embarrassment.

Now we're back in the rental driving towards the Grand Canyon. For the most part, we've been silent. I can feel that she wants to say something but doesn't.
"Oh uh Alex called me last night and mentioned that he had booked the photographer for the proposal in a few weeks," I say.
I look over and see Ginger tucked into the passenger seat looking at her phone. One leg is crossed over the other and she is in jeans and a long sleeve shirt. She looks effortlessly beautiful as usual. She puts her phone down and looks at me.
"That's great," she says. "Is he nervous?"
I shrug.
"I think he is a little but I also think he feels better with a plan," I say.
"Right."
A silence settles on us briefly.
"Jackson?"
"Hm?"
"Are, uh, things ever going to go back to normal for us? Like between us I mean?"
I sigh and run a hand over my face while watching the road, I'm nervous to look at her so I'm thankful to be driving.
"I uh don't know Ginge, I'd like to say things are normal but what's normal for us?"
"I know," she says. She sounds sad which hurts my insides. I never want her to be sad.
I know she wants to pinch her eyebrow but isn't. I can sense that she doesn't like that I can read her but I can, she's like an open book to me. Well, her body cues are, she keeps her life pretty separate and private. I know she feels vulnerable when she lets her guard down. Maybe I can even the playing field in that regard.
"Can I reveal something embarrassing to you?"
"Always." She doesn't miss a beat, I love that.
I clear my throat, trying to find the best way to tell her...
"I, uh, tried to meet you a few times before we finally met," I pause. "Then I just felt you hated me so I pretended not to like you either."
"Uh, okay, when?"
I swallow.
"Do you remember the AMA mixer at the new event place in the meat-packing district? The one with the weird, black floor that also glowed?"
"Oh yeah actually I do."
"Right so, there. I tried to come up and talk to you, then like three other guys approached you so I sorta chickened out."
"Ha, really?"
"Yep. Then again a few months later at the luncheon in Chelsea."
I glance at her and see she's resting her head back against her seat.
"Then what?" She sounds genuinely curious, like she's trying to piece it all together.
"Well, we finally met later that year but I tried to, uh, be witty and funny. You didn't fall for it at all and called me arrogant before storming off. The rest, as they say, is history."
I look at her again. She's chewing on her lip, I have the strongest urge to reach over and grab it.
"So...okay...huh," she said.
"I uh thought it'd make you feel better," I say.

"It does and it doesn't. Don't get me wrong, you're acting a fool is hilarious to me—" I laugh and shake my head. "But it kinda makes me feel like an asshole."
"Oh I didn't mean—"
"No no, it's fine, I have been through a decent amount of trauma and I stayed in survival mode longer than I should have. I'm sorry Jackson."
"It's really fine, it was a good wake up call for me. Plus I like that, uh, you made me work for it."
"Ha, please don't actually say 'guys like to be challenged' because that is 100% bullshit," she says laughing.
I finally feel my shoulders loosen a bit. As long as we can keep joking, I think we'll be okay and that's the most important thing to me right now.
"Well, thanks for giving me another shot," I say.
"Don't blow it," she says. I look over and she's looking out the window but I can see her cheek curved in a smile.
We drive for a good six hours before we have to stop for provisions and a break. We pull into a little resort town called Topock, Arizona and decide to eat at a large bar and grill serving up Route 66-style Americana fair. The air outside was notably hotter and dryer so we decide to take turns changing in the SUV before heading in. I switch to a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and Ginger slips into a light blue sun dress. We've already ordered and she's holding up her hair and fanning herself with the menu. God, she's gorgeous.
"What are you getting?" She asks.
"Probably whatever you get," I answer still looking at the menu.