Page 37 of Whiskey Promises
"What?" I gape at her, shock running through me.
"I saw the two of you when I got up to pee."
"Oh my gosh, Nadia. I…"
"You don't owe me an explanation," she says quickly, shaking her head. "It's not my business. But if you're really dating Connor, maybe you owe him one?"
"He's gay," I confess in a whisper, shooting a furtive glance toward Jareth to make sure he hasn't snuck up on me. I planned to confess the whole truth last night until he wouldn't let me talk. And then he annoyed me out of it. Now, I don't know what I'm doing. Or trying to do. But my story is falling apart faster than a paper house in a rainstorm.
"He's just doing me a favor." I huff out a breath. "What am I going to do?"
"Are you asking for advice?"
"Maybe?"
"I don't know," she says simply.
"Well, gee, that was helpful."
She laughs at my snarky tone. "I just mean…I don't know what you should do. I don't know why you're so opposed to giving Jareth a chance. Maybe you should figure that out."
Isn't that the problem? Ihavefigured it out. He isn't the problem here. I am. I'm always the problem.
"I don't want either of us to end up hurt. His life is here, and I'm going back to Tennessee soon."
"I think it's probably too late for that already, Zoya," she says, planting her hands on top of the picnic table to haul herself toher feet. "He's never been like this with anyone, and neither have you. Regardless of when it ends, it's going to hurt."
"Yeah," I whisper, glancing down at the scarred tabletop. I think she's right about that because the thought of leaving already hurts like hell.
How much worse will it be if I really let him in?
I'm not sure I'm brave enough to find out.
Five minutes after Nadiaslips away, Jareth strolls toward me, his shadow blocking the sun. I tip my head back, staring up at him. He's dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans, his hair a little wild. He didn't shave this morning. The scruff on his jaw is damn sexy.
My stomach turns a flip as his lips curve into a wicked grin.
"You looked lonely over here."
"What were you talking about with my parents?" I ask.
"Hello to you, too, princess," he practically purrs, chuckling.
"I'm serious, Jareth."
"Worried?"
"No," I lie.
"Maybe we were talking about the weather. Maybe we were talking about you." He shrugs, his smile growing. "Can't remember."
I scowl up at him, tensing. "Are you always so infuriating?"
"Depends on the day."
My scowl slips, a tiny smile replacing it. "At least you're honest."
"What can I say? I was a good little Boy Scout."
