Disclaimer: Still hasn't changed

Summary: Neither has this changed

Timeline: A year later; Lisa's twenty-four and Jackson's twenty-five.

Shout Out to My Reviewers: Okay, I'm curious about something. I've noticed that interest in this story has either died down because of schoolwork (which I can totally sympathize with) or people are reading the story and then AREN'T leaving reviews. Please review; that's the fuel I need to complete this story, which is nearing its end.

BregoBeauty: If you thought his softer side was showing through in the previous chapter, than I think you'll really enjoy this chapter. It's very fluffy.

Ghostwriter: Thanks for the review; Technically, I should have been doing homework over the weekend, but what can I say? I got bitten by the bug and couldn't stop. You know how it is.

truthfulies: Thanks for your review. Hope you enjoy this new chapter too.

Chapter Three: Laughing and Dancing and Falling in Love

It's ironic how I foolishly believed that something like this would never happened. However, it did. I'm not sure how or even when it started, all I know is one day I woke up and realized my life would never be the same again. There were no warnings, no signs, nothing. I was powerless these undeniable emotions. Part of me wanted to let go and explore these hidden desires and pleasures, but the other part of me wanted things to remain untouched and untainted from the inevitable changes. Ever since I can remember I have refused to accept change. Alan used to laugh at me whenever I would vent my frustration to him about my dislike for growing up.

"Change is part of life, kiddo," he used to tell me. "Yes, it sucks, but that's life."

Alan.

An old pain swelled up inside my heart. That's one change in my life I wish I could alter. Almost two years ago he joined the Air Force, graduated from boot camp, and the next day found himself shipped off to aid in the war raging in Iraq. Blinking, I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the onslaught tears back.

"Lisa," the deep baritone voice of my father drifted up the stairs, "Jackson's here for you, honey."

"Okay, Dad," I called back as I quickly finished fastening my black rhinestone earrings. "I'll be right down."

Jackson Rippner.

During our high school days, I remember how he used to prey upon the weak, relentlessly tormenting numerous students, myself included. More than half the female population dominating the school became victims to his charms. I swear he went through girlfriends, leaving behind him a trail whittled with broken hearts, as fast as I went through underwear. After we graduated, I thought I'd never see him again.

Alan's death reunited us.

As I reached for my shawl and began draping it around my exposed shoulders, I paused, the compassion and sympathy he had bestowed upon me the night of my brother's funeral unexpectedly flashed through my mind. That wasn't the Jackson Rippner I had grown to hate as a young adult.

"You don't know anything about me," he growled, violently shoving me backwards.

Perhaps he was right. Maybe I didn't really know him. Was the Jackson I thought I knew a façade? Could it be that beneath his sarcastic and bullying nature lay the soul of someone desperately afraid of showing his true self?

Shaking my head, I glanced over at a recently taken picture of Jackson with his arms wrapped around my waist while I leaned back against his chest, grinning. Things sure had changed between us. The night of Alan funeral marked the shift in our evolving relationship. In the beginning Jackson and I had gone slow, allowing me the space and time I needed to heal.

That was a year ago.

Grabbing my purse I quickly exited my room and began making my descent down the stairs. Jackson stood with his back to the stairs while chatting with my parents, however, as soon as Dad and Mom caught sight of me, they smiled. Pressing my lips together, I struggled against the pearls of laughter fighting to escape at the expression of shock on Jackson's face as he turned around. Slowly his eyes swept over my off the shoulder, satin white gown, the full skirt, flowering around my legs. A thick strip of glittering, black rhinestones decorated the rim of my dress, matching my earrings and necklace.

"Cat got your tongue, Jackson," I gently teased, laying a hand on his arm. He blinked, startled out of his thoughts.

"Lisa." His voice sounded breathless as his glacier eyes bore into mine intently. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," I replied, my eyes quickly scanning his tailored, black suit. His hair had been slicked back and I could distinctly smell the scent of his aftershave. "You look great."

A blinding flash of light lit up the room.

Moaning, I blinked rapidly, dark splotches of black and red dancing before my eyes. As I glanced over my shoulder, I groaned. There stood my father grinning like the Cheshire cat while my mother held a camera in her hands.

"MOM!" I whined, grimacing as I threw Jackson an apologetic look as if to say parents will be parents.

"Oh, Joe, don't they look absolutely darling together?" my mother gushed.

My father shook his head, shaking from suppressed laughter. I could feel the warmth rising in my cheeks, so much that I'm sure my face was beet red. Grinning, Jackson extended his arm towards me.

"Shall we?"

I almost sighed from relief as I looped my arm through his. "Yes."

Nodding towards my parents, he stirred me towards the door and began leading me towards his car: a metallic-silver BMW Beamer. As I climbed in on the passenger side, gracefully tucking my skirt around my legs, I glanced up to see my parents standing on the doorstep, watching. I leaned back and closed my eyes as Jackson got behind the wheel, turned on the ignition, and backed out of the driveway, the soothing tones of a little smooth jazz faded into the background. I wonder what Alan would say if he could see this? I wondered to myself. Would he have been supportive of his best friend and sister dating?

Shifting my gaze to the window, I stared unseeingly at the lights, cars, buildings, and pedestrians flying past in blurs. An uncomfortable silence enveloped the car as numerous thoughts tumbled restlessly through my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at Jackson, gauging his reaction to the silence, only to see a troubled expression dominating his face, his white knuckles tightly gripping the wheel.

As he pulled the car to a stop at a traffic light, I reached over, gently laying my hand on top of his. He jumped, startled by my touch.

"Are you okay?" I asked, hesitantly withdrawing my hand. He nodded. I tilted my head to the side, my eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You sure?"

"Lisa, I'm fine, really. Just thinking."

"About what?"

"Nothing important," he replied absently, his voice catching. Immediately I knew he was lying, but something told me not to press him. "So you're never been ballroom dancing?" he asked, abruptly changing the topic.

"Nope and neither have you."

"Leese, there's a lot about me you don't know."

I gaped at him. "You mean you've taken ballroom dancing classes?" I clasped a hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh. Imagine Jackson Rippner learning to waltz, cha-cha, rumba, foxtrot, and tango. If word of this had gotten out during high school, his enemies would have had a field day.

He shrugged. "I repeat, there's a lot about me you don't know."

"Well wonders never cease."

"Yeah," he replied quietly, gazing at me silently.

I swallowed hard, unable to look away from the intensity alive in his eyes. Leaning forward, his fingers touched my hair, tenderly caressing it. As his face loomed closer, I felt myself leaning closer, my eyes involuntarily closing. Instead of his lips against mine, I felt him extracting something from my curls. My eyes fluttered open as I gazed questioningly at him.

"You had a leaf in your hair," he unnecessarily explained, holding up the crumbled remains.

"Oh," I replied, slightly disappointed.

His hand dropped to my shoulder, rubbing his thumb across my skin. My stomach twisted in knots as I sat there, mesmerized, unable to break away from his spellbinding expression. His fingers curled around my neck, tugging my head towards his. Uncertainty flickered in his eyes as he bent his head to the side. Leaning forward, I tilted my face to the side, awaiting the feel of his.

The angry blaring of a horn behind us shattered the atmosphere just as Jackson's lips touched mine and we flew apart, momentarily distorted.

"Hey," the voice of the driver behind us screamed, "the light's green. Are you blind?"

Jackson quickly grabbed the wheel, flooring it. He carefully kept his gaze fastened on the road before us, while I stared out the window. Not another word was spoken between us for the rest of the trip.

"Lisa." A far away voice called out softly, a hand gently shaking my shoulder. "Lisa. Lisa, time to wake up, we're here."

Moaning, I shifted slightly, stretching as my eyes blinked open. Jackson's smiling expression swarmed into view.

"Hey sleeping beauty."

I blushed, realizing I had briefly dozed off. "How long was I out?"

"Not long. Fifteen minutes, maybe. Ready for some dancing?"

"I still can't believe you took ballroom classes," I giggled while nodding my head.

"Well, believe it," he called over his shoulder as he slipped out of the car.

Opening my door, I followed him out, pulling shawl closer. As his arm looped around mine, he escorted me towards a lit up building, welcoming lights pouring out from inside. Laughter and music drifted through the air and I could see figures moving back and forth, swaying to music's rhythm.

A large dance floor opened up before us as Jackson and I entered the building. Flickering figurines, reflections from the glittering decorations overhead, swirled around the dance flood. Numerous couples were already dancing, creating an atmosphere of merriment.

Jackson held out his hand. "Dance with me?"

I nodded, slipping my fingers into his and allowed him to lead me into the sea of dancers, just as the song ended and a waltz ballot began. Silently he grasped my hand, pulled me closer, and placed his free hand on my waist. Moving closer, I laid my left hand on his shoulder as we began gracefully gliding around the floor, Jackson expertly stirring me away from bumping into oncoming couples. My hair whipped around my face as he stepped back and twirled me under his arm. As he pulled me back towards him, he tightened his grip around my waist, holding me close.

Sighing contentedly, I closed my eyes, shifted the hand I had placed on his shoulder over to the crook of his neck, and laid my head on his other shoulder. Transferring the hand, which he held, onto his shoulder, he freely wrapped both hands around my waist. I tightened my grip around his neck, snuggling closer, my fingers absently playing with the hairs on the back of his neck; a serene, blissful smile tugged at my lips at the hypnotic sensation created by music's lulling melody.

Hooking a finger underneath my chin, Jackson directed my gaze up towards his, stroking the side of my face. I reached up, caught his hand, and leaned into the caress. His eyes glowed, even in the darkness, as I felt him dip his face towards mine.

However, instead of leaning into it like I had in the car, I stepped back suddenly, lightly pressing a hand against his chest. Surprise flashed across his face as his eyes snapped open. Slightly shaking my head, I shot him an apologetic look, before slipping out of his grasp and began making my way through the raging sea of dancers.

Finally locating a door leading out onto a deserted balcony, I stepped outside, breathing in the evening spring air. Folding my arms, I leaned against the balcony banister, gazing up at the twinkling stars entwined within the violet heavens. I wish you were here, Alan. I don't know how to explain what I'm feeling towards Jackson. Am I falling in love?

Silence answered.

Hearing footsteps approaching from behind me, I sighed, knowing I would have to explain everything to Jackson sooner or later. However, before I could turn around, his arms snaked around my waist, crushing me against him. My eyes flickered back and forth, uneasily. What was the matter with him? Lips possessively pressed against my skin and as I flinched, that's when I smelled it—alcohol.

"Hey baby," cooed a slurred voice, which definitely wasn't Jackson's, in my ear. Desperately I struggled against him. "What's your hurry? About you and I gettin' cozy?"

"I don't think so," I hissed, disgusted while desperately trying to pry his wandering hands off me. Repulsed, I renewed my struggles as he pressed himself harder against me.

"Excuse me, she's with me," a loud, threatening voice growled.

Sighing in relief, I felt an unseen force wrench the drunk off me. At the sickening sound of a body hitting the ground followed by a moan, I turned around. There stood Jackson, his eyes narrowed dangerously, defiantly glaring at the body sprawled out before his feet. My lips parted slightly, but I couldn't say anything. Catching sight of my disheveled appearance, Jackson was immediately at my side, drawing me into his protective embrace. Gratefully I sagged against the welcoming warmth of his chest, breathing heavily.

"Are you all right?" he asked, grasping my chin and turning it from side to side. I nodded, unable to form a coherent thought. "You want me to take you home?"

I nodded again.

His arms still firmly secured around my shoulders, he led me back inside where we collected our belongings before heading towards his car. Silently he drove me home. As he pulled up beside my home, the porch light shone brightly in the night, a sure sign that parents had already retired.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Jackson again asked, putting the car in park before turning towards me.

"Hmmm. I'm fine."

He nodded, trailing a finger across my face. Uncertainly I shrank away, opened the door, closed it, and hurried up towards the safety of my home. Digging out my key, I inserted it into the lock and twisted it to the side, hearing the locks pop open. As I pushed open the door, I glanced over my shoulder and waved to Jackson, before slipping inside.

Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it, slowly sinking to the floor, my skirt pooling around my legs, suddenly thankful my parents had gone to bed. I just wasn't ready for the interrogation I knew I would receive from Mom if she had seen me.

Listening to the sounds of Jackson's engine sputtering to life before he pulled away from the curb and drove away, I closed my eyes and sighed.

Could it be that I was falling in love with him?