Saved By The Doctor (BWWM Romance) (9 page)

He let out a breathless laugh at this. “So just let it happen,” he whispered.

Jackie giggled to buy herself some time. “I would,” she muttered in between kisses, “But I have a masterpiece to finish,” she replied as she slipped from under him and scurried back to her place behind the canvas before he could so much as utter a low cry in protest.

“One thing's for sure, Jackie Brown,” he started as he resumed the pose the two of them had decided on after much planning, talking and kissing, “You definitely keep me on my toes.”

“Well, Allan Chase,” she replied as she wet her paint brush yet again. “That is only my single most important goal in life.”

He released a short chuckle before resuming his pose. But Jackie was only painting for a short amount of time before the position of the sun in the sky caught her attention. She could tell, just from how low it was hanging, that it was more than likely time for her to pick up her daughter. “Do you know what time it is?” she asked, ducking around the side of the painting

He perked up at this. “Time for me to see the painting?” he asked in a hopeful voice.

Jackie smirked. “Please, it'll take hours and hours more of work before this is anywhere near ready for your eyes,” she replied. He pouted playfully. “Oh, don't look so disappointed,” Jackie scolded.

“I can't help how I feel!” he joked.

“But seriously, I need to know what time it is. I have to pick up Laila,” she replied through her giggles.

“Is the little lady still not old enough to walk home on her own?” he teased as he glanced at his watch. “It's almost 3,” he replied.

Jackie laughed. “I assure you, she'll never be old enough to survive Brooklyn on her own,” Jackie replied as she started to pack her things up. “I'm still not old enough to survive Brooklyn alone.”

“You seemed to be doing just fine,” Allan replied with a laugh.

Jackie shrugged. “Well, the fact of the matter is that Laila is not old enough to even pretend yet,” she replied. “The cigarette-smoker toughness is not a look available to her at this age.”

Allan raised an eyebrow. “You smoke?” he asked.

Jackie rolled her eyes. “I used to. I had to quit when I got pregnant with Laila... obviously.” But when Jackie looked at him again, the immense confusion on his face made her want to slap him. “I don't know why you thought that I could hide smoking from you in three months of dating,” she replied.

His chest rose as he sucked in a deep breath. “Are you kidding? You're amazing at hiding things from me,” he replied. “Most of the stuff I find out about, I do so of my own accord.”

Jackie felt the heat rising to her face as she continued to pack her things up, finding herself avoiding him as much as possible. The last thing she wanted was to be confronted with the dark secrets she couldn't even repeat to herself. “Someone who says things like 'of my own accord' would be scared shitless by the stuff that's in my past,” she replied, trying to ignore the breathtaking sight of him standing up and slipping his shirt back on.

He scoffed. “When will you stop underestimating me?” he murmured.

Jackie could feel the frustration building up in the pit of her stomach. She felt like a claustrophobic sitting in a tiny, glass elevator car placed in the center of a crowded room. “When you stop trying to force me to be something I'm not!” She didn't know where those words came from, but as soon as they were out in the open, she couldn't help but to realize that they were what she had been thinking all along.

“I don't want you to be anything but yourself!” he roared back.

Jackie flinched. She didn't know whether to feel scandalized that he had just yelled at her like that, or to shove that canvas aside and mount him right then and there. Unfortunately, she went with her first instinct. “Why are you yelling at me?” she whispered, as she took the canvas off of its stand and leaned it against the edge of the roof and turned to face him, crossing her arms in front of her.

He shook his head as he crossed the roof towards her. She could just tell from the shadow in his eye that he was remorseful. “I don't know. I'm sorry. It's just that even though I haven't known you for a while, I think about you almost every minute of every day. Every time I come across something funny on TV, I want to tell Laila about it. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wonder what you're up to or how I could make you happy. But you're vicious and I'm terrified that I'm going to lose you... and I can't. I just can't lose you.” He was less than a foot away from her, but the way that he looked at her made her think that the common rules of physics could do nothing to separate the two of them. They had never been closer. “I love you, Jackie, and I'm not afraid to admit that it terrifies me because I don't know how you feel about me. I could never be sure, because you're always so closed off.”

Jackie was struggling to remember to keep breathing. She could think of nothing to say, so she just kissed him. He grabbed him, but that time, it was different, like he was melting into her, like he was giving himself to her, and that was the sexiest thing of all.

Chapter Ten

*** Two Weeks Later ***

The shrill sound of the phone ringing ripped Jackie out of her deep slumber. Her eyes flashed open and the first thing she thought was, “Allan loves me,” but before she could think anything else, the sound of the phone ringing again came to her ear. She groaned, rolling over in her bed until she found it. She picked it up, answered it, and pressed it against her ear. “Hello?”

“Hello, good morning, Ms. Brown. This is your wake-up call.”

It was Victoria's much-too-excited voice on the other end of the line. “Hi, girl. Didn't anyone ever teach you that calling before 10 AM is just bad manners?” she replied as she swung her feet over the side of her bed and made her way to her closet to try to find something to wear.

“Well, since you were supposed to be up almost an hour ago, this instance hardly qualifies,” she replied in a mock, matter-of-fact voice.

Jackie continued to sift through her clothes; the weather was reaching that awkward period in the year where it was not quite warm enough, or cold enough, for anything in her closet. In the end, she settled with black pants, red pointed flats and a long sweater. “Victoria, I'm gonna be just fine. Her grandmother is at home making tea, she probably wants me to come as late as possible,” she replied.

Victoria scoffed. “She asked for a weekend alone with Laila. I don't think that's what she's thinking at all,” she replied.

Jackie shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you're right,” she replied as she put the phone on speaker and began to strip.

“So, what are you gonna do with your weekend of freedom?” Victoria asked.

Jackie furrowed her brow. “Hang out with Allan?” she replied, as if the answer was obvious.

“So, you told him how you feel about him?” Victoria asked.

Jackie glowered at the phone, confused as to why she was asking so many stupid questions. “He knows how I feel about him.”

“So, you told him you love him...”

Jackie froze. That phrase had been sitting in the back of her mind for the past two weeks... ever since he had spoken it to her that afternoon on the roof. She knew the ball was in her court. She knew she had to say something, or do something quick, or else it could all fizzle out. But, at the same time, she felt compelled to hold back. “I don't know how to tell him.”

Victoria scoffed. “What do you mean, you don't know how to tell him? Honey, you just say the words, it's not that hard.”

“Yeah, well it is for me.” Jackie replied in a loud voice. She had no idea how emotional she sounded until she could hear her voice echoing off the walls.

There was a deep pause before... “I know, honey. I know.”

“So, what do you want me to do about it? I can't just blurt it out randomly.” Jackie kept talking, hoping that she could somehow smooth over her outburst.

“Yes you can!” Victoria giggled. “I mean, that's what he did!” she cried.

Jackie shook her head. “No, it wasn't like that. It was smooth and well-thought out and romantic. Everything he does comes out smooth and romantic. How can I match that?” she replied.

“Stop trying to match it and just be yourself.”

Jackie gulped. There it was again: just be yourself. She should have that tattooed on her forehead for how many times people continued to tell her to “just be yourself.” The problem was that she was being herself. She was never not herself. Every decision she made, every word that came out of her mouth, or didn't come out of her mouth, was unapologetically her. So what was this business about being herself? Was it that people couldn't accept her in her mysterious ways? Or was it that she had completely forgotten what it was to open up in the first place? It scared her that she didn't even know the answer to that question. “What would you have me do?” she muttered.

“Stop asking questions and just do what's natural,” Victoria replied.

Jackie's face fell as she realized something. “See, that's just it. That's all I have been doing all along and all of you people keep telling me that it's not right.”

Victoria had nothing to say to this.

Jackie slipped her shirt on then took the phone off of speaker, pressing it against her ear. “Look, I have to go drop my daughter off and get some painting done before Allan comes over.”

Victoria knew not to argue. “All right, fine. You go do that,” she replied. By the time she was hanging up the phone, Jackie had put her phone down and was on her way to wake Laila up.

“I love you, Allan,” she murmured to herself. It wasn't a lie. If it was so easy for her to admit it to herself; to Victoria even, what was stopping her from admitting it to Allan himself?

“I love you, Allan,” she repeated as she started the much-too-long journey up her staircase to Laila's part of the house.

“I love you-...” but the sight of Laila sitting fully dressed on her bed stopped Jackie in her tracks. She usually slept in and required an entire swat team to get up in the morning. It was strange to find her just sitting there at 9 in the morning like it was 3 in the afternoon. “Did you pack your bag?” she asked.

Laila jumped off of the bed at the sound of her voice and dragged her black and pink baby suitcase out from under her bed. “Uh-huh!” she replied with more excitement than Jackie had seen all week.

Jackie shrugged. “Well I'll be damned,” she replied as she knelt down to inspect it. “Now, promise me you'll be good for you grandparents.”

When Jackie had checked her bag and could see that Laila was nodding in her peripherals, she stood. “Well, let me just go grab my purse and I'll drop you off.” But as she was hastily packing her small purse, checking for her metro cards, taking a couple of granola bars for good measure, strapping on her sandals, and dragging Laila out the door, all she could think about was how much she loved Allan, and how impossible it was for her to say it to his face.

***

“Jackie.” Jackie looked up to find her mother, father and daughter staring at her with that identical look of confused pity.

“Yes?” Jackie replied as she took a sip of the tea her parents had made her stay to drink. She never liked hanging around her parents' house for too long because it just reminded her of when they moved in, which was only because she had started going to NYU. Thinking about that made her think about dropping out of college and all the ups and downs she faced there.

“What is it that's bothering you?” her mother asked.

Jackie shrugged. She could already feel that anxious tug in the back of her mind. It was time to get out. “Nothing much really. I just need to get back home,” she replied, but before her parents could protest her leaving, she was already planting a goodbye kiss on Laila's forehead and reminding her to take her vitamin C.

She got back and spent the few hours before Allan's arrival staring at her unfinished painting of him. He had been waiting to see it ever since she started it, but she couldn't bring herself to fill in the lines and shadows. It was like she was sealing her own future with him and that was the scariest thing of all. So she started another painting, inspired by the image of Laila sitting on her bed, waiting patiently for her to inspect her luggage. By the time she was half way done with it and the fumes of paint were starting to go to her head, she heard the fateful buzzing sound of Allan's arrival.

Exactly three minutes later, she was standing in her living room, staring at his perfect, black fall pea coat. “I'm going to have to steal this from you,” she said as she picked it up and lifted it to her nose, taking a generous whiff of it.