Page 118 of Dead Girls Don’t Forget

“That doesn’t answer why he suddenly wants to know if you’re free today.”

"Honestly, I don't know."

Jackson kept his eyes on the road, his grip a little tighter than usual on the steering wheel.

“You going to answer him?”

“I haven’t even read the whole message yet.”

He didn’t reply. His mouth flattened and he changed lanes harder than necessary.

I stared at him. “You’re jealous.”

He was quiet for a beat.

“Yeah,” he said. “I am.”

The honesty caught me off guard.

He kept his eyes on the road. "I don't like him thinking he still has access to you."

“He doesn’t.”

“He thinks he does.”

I exhaled. “And that’s my fault?”

“No.” His voice softened, almost reluctant. “I just hate it.”

When he pulled into my driveway, neither of us moved at first.

“Are you coming in?” I asked.

His eyes lifted to mine, dark and stormy with everything he wasn’t saying. Want. Frustration. Need.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m coming in.”

I unlocked the door and stepped inside. He followed close enough that I could feel the heat of him at my back. The house was quiet. Mira had gone home for the weekend. Talia had left early to visit her sister. When we reached my room, Artemis was curled in the middle of my pillow. He lifted his head sleepily.

Jackson stopped in the doorway.

“No,” he said. “Move.”

Artemis didn’t move.

I laughed under my breath. “He was here first.”

“Unfortunate for him.”

Jackson crossed the room, scooped the kitten up, and carried him toward the hallway while Artemis let out a tiny, betrayed meow.

“You are unbelievable,” I said.

“He knows what he’s doing.”

“He’s like five months old.”

“He’s possessive.” Jackson set Artemis down outside the room. The kitten immediately tried to slip back in. Jackson blocked him with one foot.