Page 51 of Call It What You Want
“No,I’msorry.” I shake my head. “None of this is on you. Jackson is the asshole here.” I push out a breath and force a smile. “I’m usually a lot more fun, I swear.”
“No worries. I get it,” Wyn says. See, she’s so nice. “You’ve had a really fucked up day.”
“Yeah,” I say.
My gaze sweeps across the party until it snags on Jackson like a fishhook. There he is, stretched across a blanket, all muscle, flashing that charming smile that used to undo me. The firelight casts molten shadows across his chest, and he lounges there with a beer in hand like he owns the entire beach. A cluster of girls crowd around him, hanging on his every word. Then he throws his head back at something his buddy says, and that deep laugh carries across the beach.
Damn,he looks so powerful, so perfectly at ease in his own skin, like what just happened between us is already gone and forgotten.
I can’t stand how unbothered he is.
Eve and Wyn glance in the direction I’m looking.
“Well, Jackson ishot as fuck. So there’s that, at least,” Wyn says, watching him appreciatively.
Eve swats her. “Wyn,not helpful. Read the room. She hates him…”
“What?It’s true!” Wyn says defensively.
“Don’t listen to her,” Eve says. “All she thinks about is sex.”
“Oh,puh-lease.” Wyn’s eyebrow arches. “Like you and Christian don’t devour each other every second you get. I’m honestly shocked he hasn’t dragged you off to some dark corner of the beach already.” She glances around. “Give it five minutes.”
Eve rolls her eyes. “He’s probably hiding from Lucas.”
Wyn’s brow pinches. “We’ve got to do something about those two. Them not talking—it’s killing Lucas. He’d never admit it, but he’s not okay.”
“What happened?” I ask. “Why are they so angry at each other?”
“Lucas tried to kill me,” Eve says flatly.
“Oh.” God, I wasn’t expecting that answer. “Right. That…sucks.”
Wyn shakes her head. “It wasn’t personal. He thought…well, it doesn’t matter what he thought.” She’s looking at Eve. “The point is, you’re a part of the family now, so…”
Eve pushes out a breath. “Yeah. It’s killing Christian, too.”
“So, how do we fix it?” Wyn’s eyes light up with an idea. “Maybe a fake emergency? Lock them in a room together until they work their shit out…?”
“...Or murder each other,” Eve mutters. “But either way, we win.”
Their laughter drifts through the briny air, but I barely hear it. My attention is locked on Jackson across the beach. I can see the hesitation in his smile and the way his muscles tense when someone gets too close. His boisterous laugh rings hollow, practiced—a sound he’s perfected for occasions like this when he needs to be someone else entirely.
But I know him. I know his tells. The way his jaw ticks when he’s forcing conversation. How his fingers drum against his thigh when he’d rather be anywhere else. The mask is flawless to everyone else, but to me? It’s as transparent as glass.
He catches my stare across the fire, and for just a heartbeat, the facade slips. The real him bleeds through—raw, unguarded, and achingly familiar. My heart skips a beat.
But his gaze is torn away from me when someone kneels down next to him and speaks directly in his ear. The smile on Jackson’s face fades as he glances up at Rush House. Whatever is being said is alarming enough for Jackson to get up and follow the guy back to the house.
“That was weird,” I say. “What do you suppose that was about?”
Eve and Wyn are deep in their own conversation, but when I speak, they follow my line of sight, where Jackson is crossing the beach.
“Maybe it has something to do with the article everyone’s been whispering about?” Wyn muses.
Eve glances at her phone. “What could come up atfourin the morning?”
“Well, I’m finding out,” I say, heading off after Jackson. Wyn and Lux follow.
