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Let’s hope.
“Do you think your father will tell you anything else about it?”
Jacob hesitates. “Honestly, I don’t think he has the specifics. It sounds like Bettencourt is the one who calls the shots. The rest of them go along with it.”
The last thing I want to do is participate in some violent, sexual bonding experience where Bettencourt is running the show. It makes me feel almost as sick as being here in Jacob’s penthouse. Every inch of this place is beautiful and luxurious and wrong.
Elise isn’t here.
“Do you know when it’s going to happen?”
“No.” A sigh. “He said an invitation will be delivered, and it’ll be that night. There’s not really any preparing for it.”
Jesus.
I’m beginning to overheat despite the drop in temperature as the sun sets. It feels like cheating to be here with him. Cheating, though I broke up with Elise and I can’t go back.
Dangerous, because if I can’t perform whatever fucked-up ceremony Bettencourt has planned, there’s a good chance I’ll die. And not in a way I’ve chosen.
Jacob takes a breath. “I know I said we didn’t have to talk about dinner, but thereissomething I wanted to say to you.”
I lift my glass. It’s empty.Go ahead.
“I should have started with an apology.” Purple from the sunset deepens Jacob’s eyes. He meets mine steadily. “For the way things ended. For the wayIended things. I was shallow and cruel, and I should have been there for you.”
“We were teenagers. I can’t hold that against you.”
“I knew it wasn’t right. You’d just lost your parents. I don’t know what happened after. No one would talk about it. Your house got cleared out and you were gone. I should have worked harder to find you and make sure you were okay.”
“It really wasn’t your responsibility.”
“Were you?” The curve of his mouth, not quite a frown, is filled with regret. “I always thought about you. I can’t imagine losing my parents. But you and your siblings. Were you okay?”
Are you okay?Jameson on the couch in that apartment, four in the morning. Six stitches throbbing under the bandage on my side. A bruise on my cheekbone. A full-body ache. A dry mouth from throwing up in the emergency room.Where have you been?
“We were fine. Wearefine. Are you telling me I don’t look fine?”
“You look good.” A flicker of wariness. He knows something is different but he doesn’t know what. He’s never going to know. “You look great.”
“But?”
“Andwe could be together.” He leans toward me, all sandy-haired sincerity. “I didn’t say it the way I should have at that goddamn dinner. This initiation…who the hell cares. The rest is perfect. We were meant to be together. Fate brought us back.”
Fate had nothing to do with it. What brought us back is my suicidal revenge plot.
I get up from the chair, abandoning my empty glass to the table. Jacob stands up to meet me.
“Come on, handsome.” The old nickname twists at my heart. “They didn’t want us together. Now they can’t stop us.”
I lean in and kiss his cheek. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
A resigned little sigh. “I know. But you can’t blame me for trying.” He laughs at my raised eyebrows. “I saw your face when you went after Elise.”
“Then you didn’t see anything. It’s not her. It’s notyou.” I stifle the bizarre, incorrect urge to tell him absolutely everything. “I just can’t.”
The softness around his eyes says he sees right through my bullshit. He reaches in and pats my jaw. “I’m here if you change your mind. Or if you just want to talk.”
Jacob’s here, but I can’t be. Not anymore. Guilt is turning my clothes to an itchy, confining trap. I owe Elise for this. I owe her for spending so much time here.
