He narrows his brown eyes. “You're unbelievably suspicious, you know that?”
“I prefer the term private.”
“Private,” he repeats. “At this point it's less 'private' and more 'witness protection.' You know, there’s absolutely nothing about you online? Tell me, Honey—if that's your real name—who are you running from?” he teases.
My stomach drops, and dread trickles its way down my spine, because—
“You looked me up online?”
He winces, taking a step back. “That makes it sound worse than it is. I just searched your name, assuming Honey was pretty unique.” He shakes his head. “What I saw, though. Well, that was... unexpected.”
My throat tightens.
Jamie cheating on me. The videos of all the people ridiculing me. Jenni in Zach’s bed. The booing at the stadium.
No piece of my internet history looks good.
I swallow, my face burning red. “W-what did you see?”
My fingers curl into my palms, my nails bit into my skin as heat creeps up my neck.
Did he see it?
Did he seeme?
Zach said he had it taken down, but I never checked. I couldn’t. The idea of searching my own name and finding those videos made me feel like my chest was closing in on itself.
What if something slipped through?
What if—
“A bunch of girls putting honey in places that I didn't realize were allowed without a paid subscription.”
Paid subscription?
I stare at him for a second, and the tension drains out of me so fast it almost makes me dizzy.
Oh.Oh.
He didn’t see anything. There’s nothing there anymore because Zach fixed it for me.
Jake's still watching me intently, and since I don't want him to ask me why I've fallen into my own thoughts, I say, “So you saw one and thought, ‘yes, I should definitely keep going’?”
He shrugs. “Scientific curiosity.”
“Sure.”
“Also, there were a lot of views. I figured something interesting had to happen eventually.”
I nod, holding back a smile. “Sounds like you were very committed to the research.”
“What can I say?” His eyes track my face. “I just really like honey.”
I immediately look down and tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear for something to do. I'm not an idiot. He’s made a few jokes about being interested in me, and as nice as he is... he’s not Zach. That’s why I’ve been so adamant about being just friends.
“Yeah, well. I’m sure you’ll recover.”
“So is this it? We dock in an hour, you disappear and I spend the rest of my life wondering about the mysterious girl named Honey?” he asks playfully.
