Feels Like Flying (Feels Like Falling Book 2) Read online

  “I said, how much for me to get this booth?”

  “You’re going to pay us for this booth?” the Asian guy responded looking at his friend incredulously.

  “Yeah. So how much will it take?”

  “I don’t know.” He looked at his friends again as none of them could believe Jackson’s offer. “How much are you willing to give us?”

  “Twenty bucks?”

  “Yeah, right,” the high guy said. “As if I’d give up my comfy seat for a twenty.”

  “How about a hundred bucks, and I’ll buy your next round of drinks?”

  They all looked at each other and grinned. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

  And before I knew what was happening, they had all gotten up and left the booth. Jackson opened his wallet and gave them a $100 bill and then a $50.

  “This fifty should cover the drinks. And if it doesn’t, that’s on you.”

  “Okay, man. Whatevs,” the Asian guy said.

  They walked away, and then Jackson and I slid into the booth.

  “I cannot believe that you just paid $150 for us to sit here. That’s crazy.” How did he have that kind of money to waste on something so stupid? “We could have stood, you know? I didn’t need to sit that badly.”

  “It’s late. You’re tired. We just had sex. I’m not going to have you standing in a crowded bar. Besides, I don’t want to have to beat up anyone else tonight to get them to keep their hands off of you. If anyone’s going to be touching you, it’s going to be me.” Under the table, his hand fell to my knee and he squeezed.

  “Jackson.”

  “Yes, Rosie.” He smiled, then took a sip of his Guinness and made a face. “This tastes like shit.”

  I laughed. “You don’t like Guinness?”

  “No.”

  “Then why did you get one?”

  “Because you got one.”

  “You didn’t have to get what I was going to get.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  I wasn’t sure why he said that or why he thought that, but that wasn’t a question that needed answering right now. “So … Jackson?”

  “Yes, Rosie?”

  “I need you to tell me how you know who I am. And I need you to be honest, okay?”

  “Okay.” He nodded. “Are you sure you’re ready to hear the truth?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “So Rosie....”

  “Yes, Jackson.”

  “I know who you are because...” he paused for dramatic effect and I wanted to scream.

  “Yes, Jackson?” Be patient, Rosie.

  He took a deep sigh and ran his hand through his hair, and for the first time, I saw what looked like trepidation in his eyes. My heart started racing. What was he about to tell me? I was scared, more nervous than I’d been in a long time.

  “Please, Jackson. Just tell me.”

  “I know who you are, Rosie, because your mom came to visit me two weeks ago.”

  “What?” my jaw dropped. This was the last thing I’d expected to hear.

  “Your mother came to visit me two weeks ago and she offered to pay me a lot of money to walk away from our little arrangement.”

  Chapter 2

  I stared at Jackson, not quite believing what he just said to me. I could feel the blood draining from my face. I bet if I could see my reflection, I’d look like Casper the ghost.

  “My mother came to see you? My mother?” I pointed at him and then at myself. I could hear the disbelief in my voice. “You’re joking, right? There’s no way.”

  “Um, she said she was your mother.” He shrugged. “I have no reason not to believe her. She looked like you, though not as beautiful.”

  I ignored his last comment, determined not to let him butter me up. “Why did my mom come and see you?”

  “She wanted to know how I knew you. She wanted to know my intentions towards you.” His eyes darkened and his tone seemed off. I studied his face. What else had my mom said?

  “But how did she even know I knew you? Wait, do you think my mom is the one who’s been having me followed? Do you think—”

  “I don’t think she’s the one that’s been having you followed, no.” He shook his head.

  “How can you know that? How can you be so sure of that? I mean, how did she know about—?”

  “Rosie, your mom came to see me and she offered me $100,000.”

  “What?” I interrupted him. “What are you talking about? She offered you $100,000 for what?” Is that why he had so much money?

  “To never see you again.” He blinked and looked away for a few seconds.

  “What? Did she tell you how she knew we knew each other?”

  “Did you take a photo of us?” he asked in a low voice, a soft smile on his face. My heart beat erratically as I gazed at him. It should be illegal to be that sexy.

  “Wait, what are you talking about?” I stammered. “I don’t remember ….”

  “Answer me honestly, Rosie. Did you take a photo of us? Was there or is there currently a photo of us or me in your phone?”

  “Maybe one,” I admitted, totally embarrassed.

  It was true. I had two photos in my phone. I had taken a photo on the second night. It was a reflection of both of us in a mirror. I had taken it for several reasons. One, in case he did something to me, I wanted there to be some sort of evidence in my phone. And two, I wanted to be able to see his face when I wasn’t with him because he was just so handsome, so sexy, so brooding. And on the third night we were together, I’d taken a photo of just him, standing gloriously naked.

  When I was at home alone on the nights that I didn’t get to be with him, I liked to think about him—not that I was going to admit that to him. I mean, you don’t admit that to a guy that you’re sleeping with but not dating. It’s not like I would ever tell him that some nights when I felt couldn’t sleep and felt even more alone than usual, I’d stare at his photo and do things to myself.

  “She saw the photo,” Jackson stated.

  “But, so what if she saw the photo?” I frowned. “How the hell would she even know who you are? Unless you’re some sort of famous porn star I didn’t know about?”

  He laughed as he shook his head, his eyes crinkling in mirth as he stared at me. “She gave it to a private detective, and he found out who I was.”

  “What?” My jaw dropped. “So it was a private detective that was following me?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “She doesn’t know when we meet. She doesn’t know anything about our situation. She doesn’t know we go to the hotel. All she knows is that I’m a guy that you have been meeting up with and that you’re sleeping with. She came up to me at a cafe I go to for lunch. The detective tracked me and knew I go there every day.” He shrugged. “I’m easy to find if you’re looking.”

  “But how did the detective even get that information?”

  “Let’s just say maybe I’m in a couple of databases. I’m sure I’m a photo match in several key sites that a good PI would have access to.”

  “What databases are you in?”

  “You name it, I’m most probably in it.” He chuckled as if he thought it was funny. How the hell was that funny? And why did that make him even hotter?

  “So, she was able to get that information just from the photo on my phone?”

  “Yeah. Technology is pretty cool these days.” He took another sip of the Guinness and winced.

  “When did she come and see you? And where is this cafe?” I asked softly, because I’d only seen him at the hotel. I didn’t even know how to find him, even if I wanted to. “Is it close to your job or something?”

  “Or something.”

  “You’re not going to tell me.”

  “No.”

  “Why aren’t you going to tell me?”

  “Because I don’t want to.”

  “But my mom already knows. She’s the one that went to see you there. I could always ask—”

  “You’re not going to say a
nything to her.” He reached over and he squeezed my hand. “Do you hear me? You’re not going to say anything.”

  “Why wouldn’t I say something? She’s my mom, and you’re no one.”

  “I’m not no one.” His voice was sharp. “I’m the guy that you’re fucking.”

  “Well, we’re not fucking right now.”

  “We fucked just 20 minutes ago.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not—”

  “Listen to me, Rosie. I think you’re in danger, okay?”

  “Why do you think I’m in danger?”

  “Let’s just say I have a feeling.”

  “That doesn’t make sense, just because my mom offered you a hundred grand. There was a reason why she did that, you know. It wasn’t because of me. It was because of my dad.”

  “She told me the story.” He nodded. “She told me everything.”

  “What do you mean, she told you everything? What did she tell you?”

  “She told me that your dad is a senator, that he’s hoping to be nominated to run for president, that your family can’t afford to have any scandals, and that you sleeping with me would be a scandal.”

  “Why would it be a scandal?”

  “Because look at me,” he said. “Do I look like the sort of guy America’s going to accept as the first son-in-law? No. I’m too rough. I’m too real.”

  “I don’t know about that. I mean, what are you talking about? It’s not like we ever said … I just ...” I mumbled incoherently, not making sense. “So, my mom offered you a hundred grand to stop seeing me, and you said no?” Suddenly, the impact of what he’d done played on my mind. “Why did you say no? That’s a lot of money.”

  “Money comes and goes. Good sex doesn’t.” He shrugged. “I prefer good sex.”

  “But you don’t even know how long we’ll be having sex. I mean, we just meet at a random hotel room a couple of nights a week. I mean, I—”

  “You like it, right?”

  I nodded, not saying anything else.

  “I thought you liked it, and I like it, so that’s good enough for now.”

  “Is it, though? This seems to be getting really complicated, Jackson, or should I call you Alexei, or should I call you Alex?” My voice rose. Things still weren’t adding up. “Why did the maid at the hotel not tell me who you are, and why did she pretend that no one was staying in the room, and why is someone following me, and why were you at the train station that night, and …”

  I paused. I was about to ask him why James had been speaking to Patrick. But as far as I knew, that was one part of the story that Jackson didn’t know. He didn’t know that I was engaged to be married. Or that I’d had my last boyfriend beaten up. I thought it best to keep that information to myself.

  “That’s a lot of questions. You know how I feel about questions.”

  “I need some answers. I need to know—”

  “Rosie, I’m going to ask you one thing, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m going to ask you one thing, and then you can ask me whatever questions you want, and I’ll answer every single one of them as best as I can.”

  “What does ‘as best as you can’ mean? Does it mean you’re going to lie?”

  “It means that I will answer as best as I can. I won’t lie to you, but I might not be able to tell you the full truth.”

  “Why might you not be able to tell me the full truth?”

  “Because life is complicated, Rosie, like you said. This whole situation is complicated, and there are just things that I can’t share with you right now.”

  “Okay. Well, what’s the point if you can’t be honest with me, and you can’t—”

  “Rosie, don’t get upset, okay?”

  “Fine. Whatever. What’s your one question?”

  “Why were you at the train station that night?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That night that I met you. You were sitting at the train station, just staring into the distance. Why were you there?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “You could, but I asked you first.”

  “Fine. I was there because I like to sit there to think. I actually used to go there almost every night for a couple of months, well, at least a couple of times a week, if not every night. There’s something calming about it, you know? There’s an owl in that tree next to the benches, and sometimes, it will just sit on a branch, and I’ll look up, and I’ll stare at it for hours, and its yellow eyes will glow back at me, and I’ll think that it’s staring back, and that we’re having some sort of conversation in the wind.”

  “Okay …”

  I could tell he thought I was loopy. “I’m not crazy, you know? I just needed to think. I just needed to get away from my life. I just needed to be alone and feel like anything was possible.”

  “You don’t like being the daughter of a senator?”

  I snorted. “It’s not as glamorous as it sounds.”

  “I didn’t think that it was glamorous at all. Your dad, he’s well known. He’s well-liked. It’s very likely that if he gets the nomination, he will become the next president.”

  “Yeah. Go figure.” I rolled my eyes. “I guess you can believe anything you want to believe about people these days.”

  “You don’t think he’d make a good president?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t really care. I don’t think he’s a good man, but are there any good men?”

  “When did your last relationship end?” he asked suddenly.

  “A while ago.”

  “Is that part of the reason you were down at the station?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I thought I was in love with someone, and he ended up breaking my heart. You know how it goes. Boy meets girl. Girl falls in love with boy. Girl plans wedding. Girl plans kids. Girl plans happily ever after. Boy turns out to be engaged to someone else. Boy tells her that he never really loved her. Boy was using her the whole time. Ladidadida.”

  I smiled at him even though I didn’t think the story was funny, but I was trying to make it lighter.

  “So he broke your heart?”

  “You could say that. He was an asshole.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “I’m just curious, Rosie.”

  “His name was Joey. He was a good old farm boy from Iowa and he had a fiancée back home, all right? I never would have thought a corn farmer from Iowa would break my heart.”

  “Why wouldn’t you have believed that? Do you think good old boys from Iowa can’t break people’s hearts? Is it only men from California and New York that can do that?”

  “Well, when you put it like that, obviously not. I just thought, you know, Midwest values and all that good stuff.”

  “Your dad’s not the only one that puts on a good façade, Rosie. Lots of people do. Lots of families do. It’s just the way it is. That’s the way the world is. You can look at someone and never really know who they are, what they’re thinking, what they’re feeling. That’s just the way life is. You might think someone’s your best friend, and they’re actually your enemy. And you might think someone is your enemy, and they’re actually your best friend.”

  “Oh, look at you with your words of wisdom.” I sipped on my Guinness. “Who knew you were so thoughtful and—”

  He cut me off. “You don’t have to try and make a joke of everything every time you feel insecure and unsure of yourself. It’s okay to feel that way.”

  “I don’t need you telling me what’s okay and what’s not okay. I—”

  “You’re so defensive, Rosie. You know, ever since that first night, I’ve wondered how come a girl like you would go back to a hotel room with a guy like me.”

  “What do you mean, a girl like me?”

  “I mean a beautiful, vulnerable, sexy girl like you. I just didn’t understand why, but now I guess I kind of do.”

  “What do you mean, you kind of do? Why do you t
hink I did?”

  “Because you’re fighting your demons, and you’re exploring your wildest fantasies.” He grinned. “And I guess I happen to be one of your wildest fantasies.”

  “You really think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

  “No, but I do think a lot of my cock.” He chuckled, and I rolled my eyes.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I bet if I were to touch your panties right now, they’d be wet.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. You’re never going to find out.”

  “Is that a test? Are you daring me?”

  “I’m not daring you.”

  “It sounded like a dare to me.” He put his hand on my thigh and slid it up.

  “Jackson, you can’t do that.”

  “Oh, yeah? You want to bet?”

  “Jackson!”

  He stopped, removed his hand, and ran it through his hair. His eyes darkened, and he sighed. “We’ve really got ourselves into a pickle here, haven’t we?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, neither one of us expected that this would be so complicated.”

  “Well, it’s not really complicated for you. I mean, you could walk away. Shit. You could even get a hundred grand to walk away. You’ve got nothing to lose.”

  “I kind of do, though.”

  “What do you mean, you kind of do?”

  “Well … I’ve got you to lose,” he said softly.

  My jaw dropped. “What does that mean?”

  “What do you think it means, Rosie?”

  His eyes bore into mine, and I stared back at him, not knowing what to say. Even though I had just drunk some Guinness, my mouth felt dry. I licked my lips nervously as my heart beat fast and erratically. I stared into his dark brown eyes and I just didn’t know what he was saying, what he was thinking, what he was feeling. Did he care about me in some twisted kind of way? Had sexual intimacy somehow connected us on another level? Was that even possible?

  I knew I was falling for him in a way I didn’t understand, but could he be falling for me as well?

  “I know why you came here tonight, Rosie,” he said softly as he leaned forward.

  “Oh?” I mouthed and leaned closer to him. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted us to leave, go back to the hotel, and fuck all night long. I didn’t care if my parents found out that I’d stayed out. Right now, I didn’t care about anything.