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With Jarred and Zaria behind me, I focus on the plane. The tension from the car follows us as we make our way to our seats in the private jet. Jarred sits opposite me, with Zaria beside me. He’s watching me intently, knowing that, for the time being, we’ve got her to keep our secret. I have a feeling, though, that she’s not going to sit quietly in the corner. Zaria Abadi is feisty, demanding, which if I had to be honest, I quite enjoy. But she could so easily burn everything I’ve built to the ground.
When I spoke about her hiding something, I saw the flicker in her eyes. This trip may actually be good for us. At least, I fucking hope it is. The moment the wheels leave the ground, I order a vodka neat, while Jarred has his usual beer. Zaria opts for a Coke, and I wonder if she’s staying sober to keep a clear head around us.
My gaze flicks to Jarred, and I see him looking at her. I know he finds her attractive. You would have to be blind not to be enthralled by her beauty. I turn my attention back to her before I swallow back my drink and order another.
“Nervous?” Jarred smirks at me, his eyes flashing with a challenge.
I can’t help but return his smirk. “Why would I be nervous?” I ask, before leaning back in my seat. My arm brushes along Zaria’s, causing and audible breath to whoosh from her lips. I place my hand on her thigh, my fingers wrapping around the smooth skin.
“Don’t know,” Jarred answers with a shrug. “Never seen you outside of Thorne Haven before.” He chuckles playfully, his eyes burning into the connection I’ve made with Zaria. I want nothing more than to order her to spread her legs and have him watch as I pleasure her; the thoughts that are racing through my mind are downright filthy.
“I was just thinking about how much fun we could have on the four-hour flight,” I whisper, then lean in to ask Zaria, “What do you think about joining the Mile High club?”
“Don’t be crass,” she bites out, causing Jarred to laugh out loud. I admire her fire. There’s something alluring about it. The joy I get from taunting her makes my dick hard.
“So, have you ever traveled internationally?” Jarred quickly changes the subject, much to my little princess’s relief.
“I have. We’ve been to most of Europe, as well as the United Kingdom and Australia,” she informs us. “My father’s company opened offices in most of the larger cities, which meant we had to be present when he cut the ribbon.”
“And now you’re stuck in little, old Thorne Haven,” I say, the sneer on my face is apparent to Jarred, but I turn my eyes to the window. I don’t need her to know I hate being home. As much as I used to enjoy the parties, the guests, and the town itself, my heart is always wandering.
“I think it’s a beautiful town,” she says, and even though my hand hasn’t moved from her leg, she doesn’t ask me to remove it.
“It is if you haven’t spent your whole life there.” Both sets of eyes land on me. There’s no judgment, though, merely curiosity. “Being from a small town where everyone knows your life story isn’t as magical as Hollywood may make it out to be.”
“I didn’t think it was. The same way being seen as someone popular on social media doesn’t make it worthwhile. It’s more of a hinderance to living a normal life than most think.” Zaria’s words slam right into my chest. There is pain, guilt, and heartache entwined in every word.
“It’s the same way the past seems to linger, threatening to break down everything you’ve built. When you look into the future, when you hope for something better, whatever you think you’ve buried, will always come back to haunt you.” This comes from Jarred which surprises me because he’s usually silent about his history. Most times when we talk about his past, when I’ve asked him to tell me more about where he comes from, he’s always been against it. But now, I wonder why he would speak up about it.
“Are you trying to tell me something?” I quirk a brow in question. A flicker of guilt in the silver of those endless orbs tells me I’ve hit the nail on the head. He is hiding something, but he’s not confessing to it just yet which frustrates me. I don’t like liars, and I don’t like secrets.
“Not at all.” He shrugs it off, as if it’s nothing, but I know that’s a lie. He wouldn’t have said anything if he didn’t feel guilt. He’s keeping something from me, but I can’t pinpoint why he would. “I just mean that sometimes, the past can suddenly fuck up everything you’ve worked so hard to build. And it usually happens when you least expect it.”
