“I’ve been reading.” It’s not a lie.
“You read romance novels?” She scoffs in disbelief.
“I started this week.”
“You’re reading romance books?” She scoops some sugar into a container, then closes it to put in her bag along with the butter. “Are you okay?”
“What? They’re good stories. It’s more than just smut, you know.”
She stares, her mouth agape. “Who are you and what have you done with my little brother?”
“Maybe I’m just growing up.”
“Right.” Maeve laughs, and it irritates me.
“What? I can’t evolve?” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Sure.” She draws out the word as she meets my gaze. “But I’m pretty sure you’re high right now.”
“I am.” I grin at her assessment before I realize it’s counterproductive to my argument. “That’s offensive.”
“Okay, well.” She slings her bag onto her shoulder. “This has been weird. I’m gonna go.”
“Fine.”
“Tell Rosalie I said hi,” she says casually.
I don’t know how she suspects, but the shock on my face is the confirmation my sister needs.
“Damn it, Jackson! I told you to stay away from her.”
I take a step closer and drop my voice to a whisper. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
“Who would I tell?” She lowers her voice to match mine.
“I mean it. Please. She doesn’t want anyone to know she’s here.”
“Really, Jackson? Do you hear yourself? She doesn’t want anyone to know she’s with you. Is this really what you want, to be someone’s dirty little secret?”
“So, now you’re judging us both?”
“I want you to be happy. I want her to be happy. But what you’re doing . . . it creates a mess that I don’t have the time or energy to fix.”
“No one’s asking you to fix shit. Just don’t be a blabbermouth.”
“Rude!” Her jaw drops.
“I mean it.” My warning comes out more like a growl. “Mindyour business for once, and don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Her jaw hardens, almost as if she’s grinding her teeth, then she stomps past me to the door.
“Shit.” I shouldn’t have said that. I walk after her. “I’m sorry, Maeve. I didn’t mean?—”
“It’s fine.” She curtly dismisses my concern, but by the look of hurt on her face, she’s not in the mood for a discussion. She levels me with a stare as she opens the door. “Good night, Jackson. Be careful. Please.”
My feet still at her warning. Her meaning is clear. Don’t hurt Rosalie. Don’t fuck this up.
“’Night. Drive safe.” I barely push the words past my lips before the door shuts behind her. I walk over to lock it, then check to make sure she made it to her vehicle. The headlights are already on the move as she makes a three-point turn out of the drive.
