Fake Boyfriend - Miley Maine Page 0,68

I been thinking?

Like he’d instructed me, I got up out of the bed. “Jackson?”

He lay almost perfectly still, and his eyes were closed, but every now and then he jerked. “Loren,” he cried out. His voice was full of anguish. Maybe he’d dreamed that I’d died.

I didn’t want to leave him, so I sat back down on the edge of the bed and waited. Eventually he jerked awake and sat up, panting.

His shirt was soaked with sweat. “Loren?” he asked.

I patted his hand in case touching his back would be too much. “I’m right here.”

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I should be asking you that.”

“Nightmare,” he said.

“Yeah. You said my name.”

“What else did I say?” he asked.

“Nothing. That was it.”

“I dreamed that you were with my sister when she died.” He rubbed his face with the sheet. “It doesn’t make any sense. You’d have been a toddler when it happened.”

I had no idea his sister had passed away. “I’m sorry. I knew you had a sister. I didn’t know she wasn’t living.” I didn’t have any siblings, but I’d always heard losing them was devastating. “Was she around my age when she died?”

“Yes. She was in her early twenties.” He got up and went into the bathroom. I heard water running, and then he came out with a fresh shirt on, and a wet cloth that he stuck against his face.

“We don’t have to talk about her,” I said.

“It’s fine. Her name was Addison. She was my little sister.” He sat there for a long time, just breathing.

Did he want me to ask about her? He must want me to, since he’d told me her name. “Was she sick?”

“No.” He exhaled and stuck the cloth to his face again. “She was murdered. By her boyfriend. He was a monster. So she called me for help. I rushed over, but it was too late. He shot her right in front of me.”

“Oh God. I’m so sorry.” I inched closer, wanting to put my arms around him. “Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

I hopped up and sat behind him, wrapping both my arms and legs around him, like a big bear hug from behind. I rested my cheek against his shoulder. “Did she look like you?” I asked.

“Yeah. She had black hair and tan skin, but her eyes were green instead of brown.”

“I bet she was gorgeous.”

“Yeah,” he said. “She still looked like a kid to me. But she was an adult. And she wanted to make her own choices. She just ran into some really fucking bad luck and ended up with a violent scum bag.”

“I am so sorry.” No wonder Jackson was so protective. Not just of me, but of people in general. He’d even tried to save the first guy who attacked him at that shed. And he could have easily killed Douglas several times, but he’d made every effort not to.

Jackson cared about people, and he did it well. Not only was it his career, and his calling to protect people, but he’d tried to protect his little sister, but his efforts didn’t save her. I couldn’t imagine what that had done to him. The grief and the self-blame must have eaten him up inside.

“She was so lucky to have you.”

“I didn’t get there in time,” he said.

“But she knew you were coming. She knew you would come whenever she called. She knew that you loved her like that. Just like I know that you’d come help me if I called you. Even if I’ve been a total dumbass, and done something crazy, like refuse to listen when you try to tell me one of the wedding guests is a psychopath.”

He bowed his head and breathed harshly. “I hope to God she knew that I was coming.”

“She never doubted it.”

“How do you know?” he asked.

I hated to hear the raw pain in his voice. “Because it’s written all over you. If I know it, then as you sister, she definitely did.”

His hand came up to rest on my arm and he straightened up again, leaning his head back closer to mine. “The same goes for you.”

“I know it does.”

“Not just that I’d come rescue you. Not just that I’d show up if you needed me.”

“Then what else?” I asked.

“I love you.” He tugged on my arm until I came to sit in front of him.

“What?” I asked. There’s no way I heard that correctly. “Did you just say that you loved me?”

“Yes I did,” he said. “I want a real