I move as fast as I can and get in Mark’s car, ready to chase her. This isn’t over. Not by a fucking long shot.

Keep driving. Keep your foot on the gas and don’t stop.

I tell myself over and over. Don’t look in the rearview mirror because it doesn’t matter. It’s behind me. I have to keep moving forward and pretend that I didn’t allow myself to feel again.

One touch was all it took.

One word crumbled the walls I’d rebuilt.

If I’d stayed there he would’ve broken me down. I could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t going to let me go. So I did as I promised myself before I went—I let him go first. I protected myself from yet another round of heartbreak. Which is all that seems to come from Jackson and I. We hurt each other whether it’s intentional or not. The damage is still the same and I’ve had enough to last me a lifetime.

The drive to the house in Scotch Plains is shorter than if I had to head back to my apartment, so I brought an overnight bag since Mark and Ashton made arrangements for her to get home. As soon as Jackson let me go, I had to get out of there. I needed to get the hell away from him because he’d consume me. The pain remains though.

I wipe the tears that continue to stream down my face. I can still feel him around me, his scent clings to me and I inhale it. I’d give up everything to go back in time and never have given in to him. If I’d saved myself then it wouldn’t hurt so damn much right now. There’s nothing more I want to do than turn this car around and run back to him. His touch sent my entire world into a tailspin. In his arms I felt it all. The love, the hurt, the agony of our reunion, knowing it was the finale too. It was the last time Jackson would ever hold me, ever touch me, his lips, his face will never be mine again.

I look in the rearview mirror wanting to go back.

Keep driving.

Pushing the accelerator faster, I fight my heart’s wants. It doesn’t change the circumstances we’re in. My clean start is in California and I leave in four days.

Keep your foot on the gas and don’t stop.

I pull up to what was my father’s house and drop my head on the steering wheel. Now what? Drawing a deep breath I lean back while the ache washes over me. I remember how it felt to find out everything. How devastated I was during that press release and what it felt like to find out the love I thought we shared was built on lies.

Removing myself from the car, I open the back door and grab my bag.

“I wasn’t done,” I hear Jackson’s voice.

My entire body freezes at the sound of his deep voice and my legs go weak. I grab on to the frame of the door to stay upright. “What are you doing here?” I ask on the verge of sobbing.

He takes a step closer, gripping my wrists, and his voice softens. “No more running. We’re going to talk. Now.”

I look into his eyes and the storm rages across his face. Allowing myself a minute to take him in. He’s dressed in his dark blue uniform and if I ever thought he was sexy in a suit, this just put that image to shame. I watch as he smirks when he catches me looking him over.

That sexy grin infuriates me. “You don’t get it,” I say exasperated.

Jackson’s hands move up my arms slowly. I start to draw short breaths and shake. Why does he do this to me? Why can’t I fight him? I’m weak against his touch.

“I know that I love you,” he says as his fingers move against my neck. “I get it, but I don’t care about giving you space anymore.”

“You don’t care?” I push him back and he leans forward, trapping me in his arms. “God, do you hear yourself? Why are you here if you don’t care?”

“If we’re really done. Why the hell should I care?” His lips graze my ear. “If you don’t love me and you’re done with me, then I have nothing left to lose.” The heat of his breath against my neck causes me to shiver. “So, we’re going to talk because I,” his lips touch the skin of my neck, “Don’t,” another kiss, “Care.”

He pulls me against him and presses his lips to the base of my neck, lingering and moving slowly while he holds me close.

I melt into his embrace like always. But this is our dance. He breaks me down, and I break more. Only I’m not sure I’ll be able to seal the cracks from this one.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say pulling out of his arms. “None of it matters anymore. You should go.”

“I’m sure I should, but I won’t. Please, come home. Let’s talk.” Jackson looks around and takes in the street we’re standing on. “Or have you found a new home?”

My eyes close and my heart pounds against my chest. “Not that I owe you any explanations, but no, this was my father’s house. Tomorrow I’m selling it,” I say as I walk to the door. I need him to go now. “I have a lot I need to do, so please get back in your car and go. Goodbye.”

Jackson grabs my arm and I turn to face him, but before I can say a word he slowly presses his lips against mine. His hands grip my neck and hold me at his mercy. Every part of me comes to life. The heart that has been beating out of rhythm just found its cadence. My breath comes easier from one solitary kiss. Needing to be closer, needing this feeling to remain, my hands grip his neck as I pull him closer. Jackson pushes my back against the door and I give myself over to him for a moment. I allow myself the feel of his weight against me. The way he ignites my body because this will be the last time.

Jackson pulls back and his blue-green eyes are solid and he struggles to catch his breath. “There are no goodbyes between us.” He grabs the keys and I stand here dumbstruck.

This is not going according to plan.

Jackson fiddles with the keys until he gets the door open. Standing off to the side with his arm outstretched he waits for me to enter.

“You’re not staying,” I say defiantly.

“I’m not leaving, so either you’re coming with me to New York, or I’m staying here until you hear me out. You pick.”

“Neither of those works for me. So you can leave or I’ll call the cops.”

He shrugs, “I’ll be right here.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“Be my guest, baby.”

“I’m not your baby anymore.”

Jackson takes a step forward and his eyes are steel. “Get in the fucking house. I’m done playing.”

I stand there with my arms crossed. He’s lost the right to boss me around.

“Always have to do things the hard way, don’t you?” he asks before grabbing me around my waist and placing me in the house.

“Put me down!” I yell and he kicks the door shut. “God! You don’t have a clue, do you?”

He laughs, apparently finding this amusing, before he winces and grips his leg. “Did you get my gifts?”

“You hurt yourself, didn’t you?”

“I’m fine. Answer the question.”

“I burned them,” I say completely full of shit, but I hope if I can piss him off enough he’ll take the hint and leave.

“Mature,” he scoffs. “Did you read the cards or did you burn those too?” His brow rises in question.

I blink repeatedly while my jaw falls slightly ajar. I can’t lie to him about this. His heart was bared in those letters. “I read them,” I say softly.