Chapter Thirty-One
Mack
Jackson eyed me warily. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I need some advice,” I repeated. “But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t hit me first.”
Jackson leaned back in his chair. “f**k my life. Please don’t tell me you’re asking for advice about you and my sister.”
“Yes, I am. Because you know her, and I could seriously use some advice.”
We were at a diner, Candy’s Diner to be specific. Dawson had turned us onto this place because it was run by an old family friend of his. The friend in question, Candy, stopped by our table. “Hey, y’all. I’m assuming you’d like to start with coffee?”
She was already filling the mugs by our elbows before we even answered. It was six a.m., so we definitely needed coffee.
“I need it as strong as you’ve got,” Jackson said.
“I have a new espres
