Page 15

Zoya

" Y ou are a jerk," I hiss at Jareth an hour later, dragging him around the side of the restaurant and then pushing him up against the wall. " Steal me for a taste? Are you serious?"

"Worked, didn't it?" he growls, yanking me into his arms. "You're here with me right now, and your boyfriend doesn't have a clue that you're the delicious treat I tasted."

"Why do you keep saying it like that?" I demand, eyes narrowed on him.

"What?"

"Boyfriend. You emphasize it every time you say it."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do! You say it like…like…"

"Like what?"

"Like you don't believe it."

"What if I don't?" he taunts, crowding me up against the wall. Jeez. How did this end with me against another wall? I'm the one who is supposed to be on the offensive this time. "What if I think your little story about being in love with him is a crock of shit?"

"That's your prerogative," I say, shrugging. "But delusion doesn't look good on you, Jareth."

"You know what does look good on me?" He tips my head back, leaning down over me. "You, Zoya. You look damn good all over me."

"Jareth," I groan. "Did you drag me out here just to torment me? Was your text last night not enough?"

"So you read it, huh?" He grins triumphantly, and I want to kiss that stupid expression off his face. "How long did it take before you were coming all over your fingers, baby?"

"I didn't," I lie like the wind.

"Little liar." He dips his head, kissing me. "I bet you made yourself come so fucking hard, imagining it was me between your thighs."

"Did not." I shove him off me. "Do you actually have an issue with the catering or not?"

His eyes light up. "Come see," he says, trying to link our fingers together. And maybe I'm the delusional one, because I let him do it. I let him hold my hand all the way to the back door of the restaurant. And part of me thrills to that simple touch, eating it up like it's life-sustaining.

My stomach growls when we enter the kitchen, and the aroma of freshly baked bread wafts toward me.

"Sit here," Jareth orders, nudging me toward a stool pulled up at a prep station.

I reluctantly plop onto the stool, watching as he strides across the kitchen and disappears around the corner. He reappears two seconds later, juggling a covered tray in his hands.

"What is this?" I ask, eyeing him suspiciously as he sets it in front of me.

"Open it."

I hesitate a moment before curiosity gets the better of me. I reluctantly pull the lid off and then blink at the various dishes arranged on the tray. "Uh, this isn't dessert, Jareth. It's the whole damn menu."

"We need someone to taste it before the wedding," he says, shrugging.

"Again, that should be Nadia or Teo."

"She told me to ask you. She said she trusts your judgment."

"No, she did not." There are a million things Nadia may trust. My judgment is not on that list. It's not in the same dimension as that list.

"She did," he says earnestly.

Why is everyone working against me? First, Connor. Now, my own sister. It's like they're determined to throw me into Jareth's path just to see what I do. It's maddening!

"She's not feeling well today," he murmurs. "Morning sickness."

My irritation dissolves in a puff of smoke. "Fine, I'll taste it," I grumble. "But only because she doesn't feel well."

He grins as if I just handed him a winning lottery ticket. However, judging by the sheer luxury of this place, I don't think he needs a winning lottery ticket. His family is loaded, the kind of loaded that even Aunt Miranda and Teo can't compete with.

His grin slips as he stares at me, his eyes darkening. "You're so fucking beautiful."

"Don't," I whisper, breaking his gaze.

"Don't what? Tell you the truth?"

"Don't act like this is going anywhere," I growl, frustrated. "It isn't. It can't!"

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because…because…because I won't even be here in ten days!" I cry, throwing up my hands. "I'll go back to my life in Tennessee, and you'll still be here. So why keep heading down a path that only leads to heartbreak?"

"Are you so sure it will?" he asks, his eyes locked on my face. "Or is that just what you've convinced yourself to keep me at arm's length?"

I hesitate, weighing the question. Maybe I have been working overtime to convince myself that this is only going to lead to heartbreak, but it's not like I'm wrong.

I know myself too well to think I can love him from afar without cracking apart.

I haven't been running from the thought of it for so damn long for no reason.

If something can go wrong, it usually does.

And I'm usually the one who poured the gasoline that started the fire.

"Long-distance relationships don't work, Jareth.

Short-distance relationships rarely work. "

"Such a pessimist," he says, tsking.

"No, I'm a realist."

"Or maybe you're just afraid to take a chance and prove yourself wrong." He scoops up a bite of pasta on a fork, holding it out to me. "Maybe you've spent so long running from the possibility of love that you don't know how to stop."

"That's not true," I protest, biting the pasta off the fork with so much force that my teeth clack against the tines.

"Oh, really? Then why are you trying so hard to convince me that Connor is your boyfriend when we both know that the man is gay?"

I choke on the bite of pasta.

"Shit." Jareth drops the fork, snatching up the glass of water and pressing it into my hands. "Drink this."

I take a drink, cough again, and then manage to catch my breath.

I wipe tears from my eyes with shaking hands, trying to think.

What does he know? How does he know? Did Nadia tell him?

Did Connor? No. Connor may be the worst fake boyfriend ever, but he wouldn't rat us out like that, not without discussing it with me first. Neither would Nadia.

"I don't know where you heard that, but you clearly don't know what you're talking about," I finally mutter.

It's as close to a denial as I can get without flat-out lying.

I don't want to lie to him, especially since I intended to tell him the truth the other night.

But Connor's sexuality isn't my news to share, either.

"Right," Jareth says, shaking his head. "He just spends all his time anywhere but with you for the hell of it."

"Like I said, you don't know what you're talking about."

"You've never slept with him."

"So? That doesn't prove anything. There are plenty of virgins in the world."

"Yeah, I am one," Jareth growls.

"Seriously?" I gape at him.

"Is that so shocking? I told you before you came all over my face that I'd never done that before."

"I thought you meant that specifically, not all of it."

"You thought wrong. And you're still full of shit. Connor is gay."

"Whatever you say. Can we please just get on with this tasting so I can get back to my boyfriend?" My head is spinning. Jareth is a legitimate virgin. I did not see that coming.

"Hell no," he snaps, his eyes flashing with deadly intent. "Your man is right here."

I open my mouth to argue with him and then snap it closed with a shake of my head. "It's too early in the morning to argue with you, Jareth."

"We wouldn't be arguing if you'd admit that you're wild about me already."

"You know what?" I growl, tired of denying it. Tired of fighting it. Just…tired. I am so damn tired of resisting this man when it feels futile. When he feels inevitable. "Maybe I am. Maybe you're all I think about anymore. And maybe it's driving me freaking nuts! But it doesn't change anything."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm leaving in ten days!" I cry again.

"I go back home, and you'll be here. And eventually, we both end up heartbroken.

Is that really what you want?" It's better to just end it now before I get in even deeper and can't get out.

It already hurts knowing I'm leaving in ten days, Nadia was right about that.

But I cannot deal with falling harder, just to lose him later.

I wasn't built for that. And maybe that makes me a coward, but I'll wear that label because the way this man makes me feel scares the hell out of me.

He feels vital to me. I can't lose myself in him and then lose him.

I'll end up right where Nadia was for the last six years, and I've already seen what that's like.

So, no thank you. I'm opting all the way out of that pain.

"You aren't hearing me, Zoya," he says softly, his gaze locked on my face. "I want you. Whether you're here, in Tennessee, or on the other goddamn side of the world, I want you ."

I groan, burying my face in my hands. He's relentless. And I'm so damn weak because every time he says something like that, my defenses crumble. I crumble.

"This is going to end in disaster," I mutter.

He pries my hands away from my face, pulling me into his arms. "Or maybe it ends up being the best risk you've ever taken." His lips brush my crown. "Stop fighting me, baby. I know it's fucking killing you to pretend you don't want this."

"It is," I admit, my heart in my throat. "But…Connor."

A displeased growl rumbles in his throat. "Fuck, Connor, Zoya. You don't belong to him."

"He's important to me, Jareth."

His eyes flicker across my face before his expression softens. He groans, pulling me into his arms to kiss me. "You're lucky you're so goddamn beautiful, princess. You have until the end of the day to talk to him before I do it myself."

"Thank you," I whisper, not entirely sure what I just got myself into here.

Please, God, don't let him break me.

I spend all day trying to slip away to talk to Connor, but every time I think I'm in the clear, I get pulled into another wedding-related activity.

It's like the whole world is suddenly conspiring against me again, only instead of trying to throw me into Jareth's path, it's trying to keep me out of Connor's.