Page 35 of Whiskey Promises
"I'm not going to stop or back off, Zoya. I know you want this as much as I do. I see it in your eyes. You don't look at Connor the way you look at me. You want this. You're just too scared to let yourself have it."
"Jareth, I…"
He presses his forehead to mine. "If you don't want me finding my way into your bed, you better keep your door locked, because a motherfucker has had about enough of sleeping down the hall from you."
"Connor," I say, swallowing hard. Not because I'm worried about hurting Connor, but because having sex with him right down the hall seems…wrong. I brought him here to help me out. We're lying to everyone because of me. I can't just pretend that away.
God. I've made such a mess of everything!
"Fuck Connor," Jareth growls, kissing me hard on the mouth. "You don't belong to him."
He's right, I don't. But…
"That doesn't make this right," I murmur. It's the truth, even if not for the reasons he thinks.
"We'll see about that, princess. I already told you that I'm not going to give up. I meant it."
"Jareth!" I growl. "You aren't listening."
"No,youaren't listening," he says, yanking me closer to kiss me again before I even have a chance of trying to explain what I mean. "You're mine, Zoya. Fuck Connor. Fuck everything. I'm not stopping until you realize that what happened with your sister and Teo won't ever happen with us."
I groan in frustration, slipping from his arms. "You're so annoying."
"Yeah, and you fucking love it."
He isn't wrong, dammit. But I don't say that. I just shake my head and then turn and hurry down the path to the house. When I reach the porch, I glance over my shoulder, but he isn't following me.
I sneak inside like I'm breaking curfew, trying to keep from waking Connor. But he's already standing at the top of the stairs with a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Girl, you are so fucked," he says, laughing quietly.
"I know!" I cry, burying my face in my hands.
He chuckles again, and then I hear his footsteps retreating down the hall. I reluctantly haul myself upstairs, expecting to find him waiting in my room for all the juicy details, but surprisingly, he isn't.
I hesitate with my hand on the knob before quickly flipping the lock to keep Jareth out. I doubt it'll really do me much good if he really wants in, but at least it sends a message.
I'm just not entirely sure what that message is. Ten minutes ago, I intended to tell him the truth about Connor. And now, what? I'm running again?
"What the hell are you doing, Zoya?" I ask myself, falling into bed with a groan. It's a damn good question, and I don't have an answer. All I know is that I'm in way, way over my head, and I'm sinking fast.
Chapter Eight
Zoya
"What is he doing?"I mumble to myself, watching Jareth out of the corner of my eye as he strides toward the bench where my parents are seated, basking in the late afternoon sun. He flicks a glance in my direction, his lips quirking up at the corners in a way that suggests he's up to no good.
Crap.
I start to heave myself up from the picnic table, only to pause when Nadia laughs, her eyes coming to me.
"You can't keep your eyes off him," she says.
"What? Yes, I can."
"Oh, really?" Her smile grows. "Then how'd you know who I was talking about?"
"I…" I huff out a breath, plopping back down on the bench with a groan. I'm so busted. "He's the literal devil, Nadia. Why did you have to move the wedding here?"
