Page 41 of Whiskey Promises
"What is this?" I ask, eyeing him suspiciously as he sets it in front of me.
"Open it."
I hesitate a moment before curiosity gets the better of me. I reluctantly pull the lid off and then blink at the various dishes arranged on the tray. "Uh, this isn't dessert, Jareth. It's the whole damn menu."
"We need someone to taste it before the wedding," he says, shrugging.
"Again, that should be Nadia or Teo."
"She told me to ask you. She said she trusts your judgment."
"No, she did not." There are a million things Nadia may trust. My judgment is not on that list. It's not in the same dimension as that list.
"She did," he says earnestly.
Why is everyone working against me? First, Connor. Now, my own sister. It's like they're determined to throw me into Jareth's path just to see what I do. It's maddening!
"She's not feeling well today," he murmurs. "Morning sickness."
My irritation dissolves in a puff of smoke. "Fine, I'll taste it," I grumble. "But only because she doesn't feel well."
He grins as if I just handed him a winning lottery ticket. However, judging by the sheer luxury of this place, I don't think he needs a winning lottery ticket. His family is loaded, the kind of loaded that even Aunt Miranda and Teo can't compete with.
His grin slips as he stares at me, his eyes darkening. "You're so fucking beautiful."
"Don't," I whisper, breaking his gaze.
"Don't what? Tell you the truth?"
"Don't act like this is going anywhere," I growl, frustrated. "It isn't. It can't!"
"Why the fuck not?"
"Because…because…because I won't even be here in ten days!" I cry, throwing up my hands. "I'll go back to my life in Tennessee, and you'll still be here. So why keep heading down a path that only leads to heartbreak?"
"Are you so sure it will?" he asks, his eyes locked on my face. "Or is that just what you've convinced yourself to keep me at arm's length?"
I hesitate, weighing the question. Maybe I have been working overtime to convince myself that this is only going to lead to heartbreak, but it's not like I'm wrong. I know myself too well to think I can love him from afar without cracking apart. I haven't been running from the thought of it for so damn long for no reason. If something can go wrong, it usually does. And I'm usually the one who poured the gasoline that started the fire. "Long-distance relationships don't work, Jareth. Short-distance relationships rarely work."
"Such a pessimist," he says, tsking.
"No, I'm a realist."
"Or maybe you're just afraid to take a chance and prove yourself wrong." He scoops up a bite of pasta on a fork, holding it out to me. "Maybe you've spent so long running from the possibility of love that you don't know how to stop."
"That's not true," I protest, biting the pasta off the fork with so much force that my teeth clack against the tines.
"Oh, really? Then why are you trying so hard to convince me that Connor is your boyfriend when we both know that the man is gay?"
I choke on the bite of pasta.
"Shit." Jareth drops the fork, snatching up the glass of water and pressing it into my hands. "Drink this."
I take a drink, cough again, and then manage to catch my breath. I wipe tears from my eyes with shaking hands, trying to think. What does he know?Howdoes he know? Did Nadia tell him? Did Connor? No. Connor may be the worst fake boyfriend ever, but he wouldn't rat us out like that, not without discussing it with me first. Neither would Nadia.
"I don't know where you heard that, but you clearly don't know what you're talking about," I finally mutter. It's as close to a denial as I can get without flat-out lying. I don't want to lie to him, especially since I intended to tell him the truth the other night. But Connor's sexuality isn't my news to share, either.
"Right," Jareth says, shaking his head. "He just spends all his time anywhere but with you for the hell of it."
