“Jackson.” I whisper his name, encouraging him as my hips find a sensual rhythm.
“Jackson!” Someone calls his name in the distance, which is weird because we’re the only two people here. We freeze. Jackson pulls my body down to his, covering me and not saying a word. Our breaths are the only sound above the music. Maybe we are both hallucinating? Though, that would be strange.
“Jackson? Hello?” The woman’s voice calls from downstairs. What the fuck? There’s someone in his house!
“Who is that?” I whisper.
“I don’t know!”
“This is your house!”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t invite anyone.”
“Maybe it’s one of your hookups looking to get some.” I don’t know why the idea makes my stomach sick.
“Can’t be.” He moves me off his lap and cranes his neck to peer out the window. “It’s worse.” His voice is low and full of dread. “It’s my sister. Shit!”
I cover my breasts and scramble off him.
He reaches for my bra and shirt, practically tossing them at me. “Get dressed!”
“Why would you give her a key?” I fasten my bra.
“She’s my sister!” His shout is a whisper.
“My shirt won’t go on.” I try tugging it into place, but it’s all twisted up. “What did you do to this?”
“It’s not my fault!” Jackson takes it from me, but can’t seem to figure it out either. “Why is this so damn complicated?”
I take it from him and motion toward the opening to the attic. If she comes looking for him, she’s going to find us out. “Go!”
“Yeah.” He nods, and moves to the stairs. “Stay here. I’ll get her to leave. Don’t come downstairs. I’ll come back as soon as she’s gone.”
Fear courses through my body. Maeve cannot find me here.
“I won’t move a muscle,” I promise him, trying not to think about the worst-case scenario as Jackson disappears down the stairs.
She won’t come up here, right? Even if she suspects he’s with someone, she wouldn’t barge up here to see who. My friend is nosy, but not rude. I attempt to calm my fears with rational thinking but even still, my gut fills with dread. What if it’s too late? What if we’re already busted?
14
JACKSON
“Maeve.”I school my features, acting as cool and nonchalant as possible as I jog down the stairs to greet my sister. “What are you doing here?”
Maeve’s rustling through my fridge. Her stare is full of scrutiny as I approach. “I need a stick of butter. And some sugar.”
“What am I? The general store?”
“It’s after six on a Tuesday. Everything’s closed.” Her brows furrow as she heads for the cupboard where I store my dry goods. “Why are you being such a dick?” She tosses her words over her shoulder as she appraises the contents of the counter. “And when did you become a wine drinker?”
Shit. Shit. Shit.“I’m expanding my horizons.”
She pulls out my sugar and gives me an incredulous stare. “I’m sure you are.”
She eyes the stack of books on my table—Rosalie’s books.Fuck.
“Since when do you go to the library?”
