Page 21 of Wrapped Up

Jack's grip on my arm loosens slightly, but he doesn't let go. His intense gaze remains fixed on me as I recount what happened next.

“That's when this gorgeous blonde walks up to you,” I say, the scene playing out in my mind like a twisted movie. “She asks why you weren't home. And then you called her 'Honey' in that adoring voice of yours and told her you were sorry and that something came up and time slipped away from you.”

I look at him, daring him to talk his way out of it. But instead of looking caught, his expression is painful. He curses under his breath, then reaches out to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. The tenderness of the gesture only adds to the turmoil of emotions inside me.

“Just to clarify,” he speaks softly. “You think I have a girlfriend because I called her 'Honey'?”

When I nod, he sighs deeply before speaking again, “The blonde woman you saw? She's my stepsister.”

I blink, struggling to process his words. “Your... stepsister?”

“Yes.” His eyes never leave mine. “Tall, curvy, leggy blonde? Blue eyes? Looks like she could be a model.”

His description matches perfectly, and I nod in disbelief.

“That's her,” Jack states with a slight smirk. “My stepsister.”

“Bullshit. Why would you call your stepsister 'Honey'? That's just weird.”

His smirk widens as he grabs my wrists and holds them between us. “It would be strange,” he admits, “if that wasn't her actual name.”

I freeze, my mind reeling. “Her... her name is Honey?”

A twinkle of amusement sparkles in his eyes. “Honey Daniels. My stepsister.”

I stare at him as my skepticism kicks in, refusing to let go of the hurt and anger I've been holding onto for weeks.

“Right,” I scoff, pulling my arms free and crossing them in front of me. “And I'm the Queen of England.”

His jaw clenches, creating a defined line along his square jaw. “Need more proof? Fine.”

He takes a step back and quickly fishes out his phone from his pocket. I watch as he furiously taps the screen, then holds it up for me to see. The speaker crackles to life as it rings.

“Answer the damn phone,” he mutters under his breath, but it goes to voicemail. He groans in frustration, his hand running through his dark hair.

I raise an eyebrow skeptically, ready to throw another snarky comment his way when a woman's voice fills the air.

“Hey, you've reached Honey! I'm probably off doing something fabulous, so leave a message if you want me to grace you with a callback. Ciao!”

My stomach drops at the sound of her voice. It's the same blonde from the bar who Jack claimed is his stepsister. My mind races to make sense of this new information, but my cynicism kicks in as a defense mechanism.

“So what?” I manage, trying to keep my voice steady. Even as the words leave my mouth, I can't ignore the small glimmer of hope that's started to take root. Could it really be true? Could he be telling the truth about Honey?

My mind races, the logical part of me still clinging to the cynicism that has protected me for so long. This could all be an elaborate ruse, another cruel trick to get me to let my guard down. The memory of Felix's betrayal flashes through my mind, a bitter reminder of the pain I've endured.

I chance a glance at Jack, and the frustration and determination I see in his expression gives me pause. This isn't the smooth-talking charmer from the club – this is a man who seems genuinely invested in proving his sincerity. But can I really trust that? After everything I've been through, how can I be sure he's not just another skilled manipulator?

"You could have set that up," I argue, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears. "It doesn't prove anything."

He looks frustrated and determined all at once. “I'll prove you wrong, Princess.”

The conviction in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. Part of me wants to believe him, to let go of my cynicism and take a chance. But the memory of past pain lingers in my mind, like a shadow that follows me everywhere I go.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “Look, we should probably get to dinner. Anna put a lot of effort into this, and I don't want to ruin it any more than I already have. I can be civil for a few hours. But after that, we go our separate ways. For good.”

Jack steps closer, his cologne engulfing me once again. “That's not happening,” he murmurs, his voice low and intense. “I'm not letting you walk away from this... from us.”

I prepare to argue back when Anna's head pops around the corner, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Everything alright here?”

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