Jack In The Box
It couldn't be.
I turned around in my seat. He was seated right beside me, his dark hair thicker than before; he looked healthier and so much better, clad in black denim, a black leather jacket over a black t-shirt that stretched over his broad chest to show me he'd spent the last couple of months working out a lot. He was wearing boots beneath. My breath caught in my throat, his caramel brown eyes danced with amusement and mischief.
He was here!
"My name's Jackson Wolfe, but you can call me Jack. What's your name, beautiful?"