Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
“Mmm.”
Jack pinches my hip. “You listening to me?”
“No,” I say, lifting my head from my book to smile at him. “But you keep going if it makes you happy.”
“You’re a bit of a shit, you know that?”
“A bit.”
As if defending my honor, Hugh jumps up from the back of the couch to bite at Jack’s ear.
Hugh does this. Randomly attacks the boys. I think it’s just his way of trying to play and get their attention, but the guys are all living in fear of mortal danger. It was up to Jamie to care for him during the break, and if the scars on his arms are any indication, the poor guy has PTSD.
“Christ, you demon,” Jack hisses, cupping his reddened ear. “That damn mad thing is trying to kill me.”
“Better be nice to me then.”
“I’m always nice.” He leans down to kiss me, but we jerk apart when we hear the front door open and then Jamie appears.
“Right.” Jamie tosses his coat and scarf on the armchair, then picks up my legs to sit at the end of the couch and drape my feet over his lap. “What’s for dinner then? I’m famished.”
He isn’t the least bit fazed by me and Jack being a little snuggly on the couch. So far, we’ve managed to keep the more blatant displays under the radar, too paranoid to chance anything more.
“Text Lee,” Jack says. “See if he wants Chinese.”
As he pulls his hand away to be less conspicuous, his fingertips brush across the bare skin of my stomach under the hem of my sweater. Lee is far more suspicious than Jamie, and if he walks through the door, we don’t want to be too flagrant.
It’s these small exchanges that keep my head in a fog. The small expressions of his desire. It does a number on me. Everyone loves a secret, and I can’t deny there’s something exhilarating about sneaking around. All the excitement of being naughty without the guilt of hurting anyone. Good wholesome trouble.
But it does get old. I mean, isn’t this why I left Nashville? To get some autonomy. Freedom. To make out with a guy anywhere I see fit, not lurking in the shadows and laundry rooms of my own house, listening for approaching footsteps. How much different is this than sneaking a boy through my window after curfew?
It only illustrates the crux of my predicament. Jack and I aren’t really together if we’re hiding it from our roommates. And because we haven’t broached the subject, I haven’t made a decision about Nate either. It’s probably a good thing Nate was in Portugal over the holidays, sparing me the anxiety of seeing them both.
When we spoke about it in Nashville (or rather, when I agonized over it for hours and she listened while probably drowning in boredom), Eliza was convinced the answer would become clear to me after some time away. But I’m more torn than before I left.
When I’m with Jack, it feels right.
And when I’m with Nate, it also feels right.
Awesome.
I’m still obsessing over it the next day when I meet Celeste for lunch. She treats us to a fancy café where I find her sporting a new designer bag and a blinding diamond and emerald bracelet.
“Someone had a good holiday,” I tease as the waiter pours our sparkling water.
“Armond” is her explanation. “He’s the one who hosted the New Year’s party Phillipa dragged me to.”
“Ah, of course. Yacht Party Armond.”
She covers her bashful smile with a sip of water. “He’s a patron of the national ballet company and on the board of several philanthropic arts organizations.”
“What happened to Roberto?”
Celeste snorts. “Some actress. I guess it slipped his mind to mention her before ringing me from Geneva to say he wouldn’t be stopping by for dinner with the family.”
“Ouch. That’s harsh.”
“His loss.” She brushes her hair back, the bracelet glinting in the sunlight. “No way she’s as flexible as I am.”
I almost cough up my water. “Jesus, Celeste.”
“What about you? Indulge in any hometown flings while you were away?”
“Nope. Dad and I hung out mostly. He was a little clingy. But it was nice to get some bonding time, just the two of us.”
“Come on. You must give me something, darling.”
“Really— ”
“Don’t lie to me,” she insists. “Your cheeks are doing that pink glowy thing. Either you’re pregnant or…”
“Definitely not.”
“So explain yourself.”
It’s impossible to win a staring contest with Celeste. She’d sooner hold me at knifepoint in a crowded restaurant than let me change the subject, so I relent. If only because I could use the advice.
“I seem to have gotten myself stuck in a bit of a triangle,” I confess.
Her face lights up. “I love those.”
“Your brother won’t.”
“Oh God. Tell me it isn’t Jamie.”
“What? No. Jack.”
“Oh. Right, that makes sense.”
“It does?”
“Sure. We discussed this ages ago, remember? He’s so fit. If you weren’t living with him, I’d have set you two up.”