Page 47 of Promised Secret
“What are you guys doing?” Clay’s voice came from the now-open bedroom door.
My head shot up from Jones’ shoulder to look at him. I tried to pull away, but Jones’ arm only tightened around me.
Clay’s lips turned even more downward. Jones softly chuckled and whispered in my ear, “He has feelings for you, too.”
Jones might as well punch me straight in the gut with how hard those words hit. What the fuck did he mean by that?
Before I could even wrap my mind around his words, Clay had crossed the distance and grabbed my hand.
“Let’s go,” he all but growled as he grabbed my wrist. Jones released me easily this time. There was a smirk on his face as he watched Clay drag me away.
“Wait, Clay—” I tried to get him to stop, but he wasimmovable when he was determined. Our friends watched with apprehension as Clay pulled me through the living room and out the front door.
“Clay, stop!” I yelled when we reached my minivan. I finally managed to wrench his hand off my wrist. I rubbed it, feeling sore from his handling.
He saw the red mark that was left behind from his tight grip, and his anger immediately turned into concern.
“Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” he asked. He grabbed my arm again, more gently this time, and took over rubbing my wrist for me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I’m fine,” I muttered absentmindedly. I was still trying to make sense of Jones’ words.
He has feelings for you, too.
Unless the English language had somehow changed without me realizing it, there was only one way I could interpret that.
Was Jones trying to say that Clay felt the same way I did? That he liked me as more than just his stepbrother or his best friend? Surely not…Clay didn’t even like men.
Clay watched me with gentle eyes, the same way he always did. I always thought he liked watching me because he liked knowing what I was up to, but could there have been something more to it?
“Let’s go home,” Clay said softly.
I didn’t resist as he opened the passenger side andhelped me inside. I looked back at the cabin and was surprised to realize that none of our nosy friends had come to question us. I wondered if Jones stopped them.
Clay went around my minivan and hopped into the driver’s seat while I shot a quick message into our group chat, apologizing for leaving so abruptly.
Jones was the first to reply, telling us not to worry about it. The others quickly followed with the same sentiments.
Our friends might give us shit, but they really were some of the best people I knew.
“What did Jones say?” Clay asked, eyes focused on the road in front of him.
“He told us not to worry about leaving so abruptly,” I repeated.
“Not that.” I could see him glance at me out of the corner of his eye. “What did he tell you inside the room?”
Well, that answered the question of whether Clay had heard.
Maybe this was for the best. No good could come from poking the hornet’s nest.
“It’s noth?—”
My words turned into a yelp as the minivan came to a sudden stop at the side of the road. Thank god I had my seat belt on.
“What the fuck, Clay! Are you trying to get us killed?” I glared at him.
Clay shifted the gear into Park, released his seat belt, and turned to loom over me.
“What did he say to you?” he asked again through gritted teeth.
