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There doesn’t seem to be any other option, so I agree.
The next four hours are horrible. Harley and I spend two of them scrubbing our IG account of the scathing, horrible comments from Selene’s followers. We have to tell Avery about the hate messages, and she voices the fear we all have—that this is going to damage Spark House and all the gains we’ve made recently.
Dealing with a social media firestorm is emotionally draining and ridiculously frustrating.
At three in the afternoon, Jackson’s driver picks me up and takes me back to his place in Denver.
He meets me at the front door. All I have with me is my purse. He pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me. I stiffen and don’t make a move to hug him in return.
He releases me and steps back, his expression reflecting his concern. “I’m so sorry. I know how this looks, and I should have been prepared for it. I’ve been in touch with Selene’s team. They’re going to call off her fans. They can be like rabid dogs sometimes.”
“I thought you said you were just family friends and business associates.” I don’t hide the hurt or the accusation.
For the first time, I notice that despite the fact that he’s in a suit, he doesn’t look entirely put together. His tie is loose and pulled askew. The top button of his shirt is undone, and his hair looks like his hands have been in it a lot.
“Come in so we can talk?” He runs his hand through his hair and nods to the living room.
The last time I was here, we had sex on that couch. Well, I was leaning over the back of it. But that memory is one I can’t seem to get out of my head, and I’m thinking it would be a good idea not to sit on a piece of furniture on which I’ve had an orgasm for this particular discussion.
“Can we sit in the kitchen, please?”
“Of course.” He doesn’t question me, just motions me ahead of him. “Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Just water, please.” I take a seat at the island.
He opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water—reusable, obviously. He pours us both a glass. “I’ll be right back.” He gives me a small, slightly strained smile and leaves me in the kitchen.
I sip my water and take a deep breath. I need to have some faith in the man I’ve gotten to know over the past several months. But the hate messages, death threats, and everything I’ve seen today raises a lot of questions, like how honest he’s been with me about Selene.
He returns less than a minute later and slides a small package toward me. It takes me a moment to realize it’s star strip paper. “I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that you thought to get me these.”
He smiles, but it looks more unnerved than anything. “I know it calms you, and I thought maybe you would appreciate having the distraction. I’m sure you must have a lot of questions.”
I nod and open the package. Freeing a strip, I start folding. “You said Selene is a family friend.”
“She is.”
“But you’ve been involved with her. Romantically.”
Jackson grips his glass of water and nods. “In the past, yes. But it was casual. She was the friends with benefits.” He sounds chagrined. “We both have very busy lives and travel a lot for work. It was convenient and worked out for both of us. It wasn’t this.” He motions between us.
“So you were what? Fuck buddies? How long ago was that? And if you’re friends with her family, does that mean you see her outside of business events? How does that even work? How can you be friends with someone you previously slept with?” I don’t know if I want the answers to these questions. I tear another strip free, bite the tip of my tongue, and give him time to respond.
He rubs his thighs and exhales a slow breath. “Selene and her family were part of my support system when I lost my parents. I wasn’t in the best place emotionally, not for a long time after that. We never dated, but I won’t lie, we were close. And eventually some lines were crossed. She’s been part of my life for many years, and when we weren’t seeing other people, we would sometimes be physically involved. Mostly when a lot of drinks were involved, not that it’s an excuse, but it wasn’t frequent, and we were never in a relationship.”
“You still work with her now, though. And you’re still friends.”
“We do and we are. We’re both very capable of separating business and pleasure. Whenever either of us was involved in another relationship, we would always respect those boundaries.”
