The following morning when I woke up I felt Jackson's body still flush against mine. I moved around a little bit so he flipped me over so that my head was on his chest and he started rubbing my back.
"What made you come back last night?" Jackson asked.
"I couldn't sleep. And I could see that you couldn't either. Without getting pissed drunk, of course." I say.
"Have you been talking to Wyatt?" He asked, looking down at me.
"I could feel it, remember. You were making me sick too." I say looking up at him. And he had a guilty look on his face.
"I'm sorry. I didn't think about that." He says. And I put my head back down to his chest. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" He asked.
" Not quite. But you're on your way." I say.
"Good. Glad to hear that...Why hasn't your eye gone down? It's sti
