He opens my door. “Let’s go. Standing around worrying about what might happen isn’t doing us any good.”
We leave the party and drive down to San Diego for dinner. Afterward, Jackson drives me around and shows me the city.
“What do you think?” he asks, pulling off the road to park.
“It’s good,” I say, gazing out the window.
“What’s good?” he says with a laugh.
“Whatever you were asking about.”
“Rumor.” I feel his hand wrap around mine. “Do you want to just go home?”
I turn to him. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to make this night special, but I can’t stop thinking about what might happen. I don’t want to lose you, Jackson.”
“You won’t.” He leans over and gives me a kiss. “You really want me to take you home?”
“I don’t, but I just want to get this over with.”
We drive back to La Jolla. It’s after eleven when we get back to the house. When he goes to pull in Brock’s driveway, I almost stop him, thinking we’re still hiding our relationship. But that secret is out. Now I have to deal with whatever’s going to happen next.
“Call if you need me,” Jackson says. “Or just come down to the house.”
I reach over and hug him. “Bye. Thanks for a great night.”
As I pull away, he keeps hold of me, his eyes going to mine. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
But will he? What if Brock locks me in my room? Or sends me away? I don’t know where he’d send me, but if he’s angry enough, I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to get rid of me.
When I get in the house, I stop and listen to see if anyone’s home. I don’t hear anything. I’m sure Braden and Trystan are out at parties. Brock is probably in his room, either asleep or with some woman.
The house is dark except for the dim light from the lamp in the entryway. As I’m walking through the living room, I hear a voice.
“You’re so dead.”
Chapter 28
I whip around, searching the dark room. “Braden?”
“I knew you were a fucking liar.” He shoves me, and I stumble back, my head hitting the bookcase behind me.
I reach for the marble bookend, the one Brock threw at Maria when he accused her of stealing. I find it and grab it, nearly dropping it because it’s heavier than I thought. Holding it with both hands, I slowly walk backward, away from Braden.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, stepping toward me.
“Braden, if you touch me again, I swear I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Go tell on me to your little boyfriend?” He lets out a harsh laugh. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Novak taking another one of my leftovers? First Andrea. Then Kristen. Now you.”
“I’mnotyour leftover.” I lift the bookend up, ready to hit Braden with it if he tries to attack me. “Even if I wasn’t your cousin, I’d never date you.”
“We’re not related. How many fucking times do I have to tell you that?”
“Wearerelated. We’re—” I stop before saying it. “It doesn’t matter. Just get away from me.” I take another step back. “I mean it, Braden.”
