My ears perked up when a knocking noise broke the silence. At first, I thought it was someone down the hall, but then it was louder.

“Val,” I called, annoyed that I had to stand again. I walked across the kitchen and living room to open the door. “You should have just stayed—” My voice pinched off when I recognized Jackson standing in the doorway, looking desperate and drunk.

“Liis.”

“Jesus Christ, Jackson. What are you doing here?”

“I went to the Top Gun bar like you said. Got drunk. There are some hot, hot”—he squinted his eyes—“women in this town.” His face fell. “It made me miss you even more,” he whined, trudging past me into the living room.

My entire body tensed. He wasn’t part of my new life, and it made me nearly frantic to have Jackson standing in my new Jackson-free condo. “You can’t be here,” I began.

“I don’t want to do those things without you,” he slurred. “I want to experience San Diego with you. Maybe if…if I transferred here, too—”

“Jackson, you’re drunk. You barely listen to me when you’re sober. Let’s call you a cab.”

I walked toward my phone, but Jackson got to it before I could, and he tossed it across the room. It skidded across the floor and slammed against the baseboard.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I yelled before quickly covering my mouth.

I scurried over to retrieve my phone from the floor. It was lying on its face next to the baseboard it had collided with. I inspected it to make sure it wasn’t damaged. Miraculously, it wasn’t cracked or even dinged.

“I’m sorry!” Jackson yelled back, leaning forward and holding up his hands. “Don’t call a cab, Liisee.”

He intermittently swayed from side to side to keep his balance. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him so intoxicated.

“I’ll just sleep here with you.”

“No,” I said, my tone firm. “You’re not staying here.”

“Liis,” he said, walking toward me, his round eyes half closed and glossed over. He wasn’t even looking at me but past me, weaving back and forth. He took my shoulders in his hands and leaned in, his lips puckered and his eyes closed.

I dodged, and we both tumbled to the floor.

“Damn it, Jackson!” I scrambled up, and I watched him struggle to get his bearings.

Reaching up and rocking to sit up, he looked like a turtle on its shell. I groaned.

He climbed to his knees and began to blubber.

“Oh no. Oh, please. Please stop,” I said, holding out my hands.

I helped him up and then began to dial the number for a cab. Jackson swatted my phone from my hands, and again, it crashed to the floor.