by Lila James
“She’s fine. It’ll heal. She’s just a tad annoyed.”
“A tad? Did you see the look on her face? She wanted to kill me.”
“Can you blame her? From our vantage point, you were gunning for her.”
I gasped. “I was not!” But Jackson’s shoulders were shaking with laughter. I grabbed a pillow off a nearby armchair and tossed it at him.
“I’m sorry. It was definitely the most entertaining thing I’ve seen on a ski trip.”
“I’m glad my pain amuses you.”
“It does,” Jackson said with a grin. “I just wanted to see if you were OK. You’ve been hiding out for the majority of the day.”
“That’s because I hear snickers everywhere I go,” I said, gesturing to the back corner of the common room, where a small group of teenagers was looking my way and whispering. It was high school all over again.
“I find it admirable that you took off down that hill with such gusto, even when you weren’t that confident in your skiing abilities.”
“I wasn’t showing off,” I said quickly, recalling Katerina’s harsh words with a sting.
“I know, I know. I don’t think she meant what she said. She was just upset.”
“OK,” I said, though I knew Katerina meant every word. “I just thought why not give it a shot? That’s my new motto in life. Just try everything. Even if you do end up on your ass in the snow, tangled up in skis.”
Jackson laughed. I joined in, relaxing. I couldn’t help but notice how the light from the fireplace softened his handsome features and how his smile lit up his entire face. When he wasn’t being an arrogant know-it-all, he really wasn’t so bad.
“Adrian,” he said as his laughter faded. His gaze became intense and serious as he leaned forward.
“What?” I asked, my heart hammering at his closeness.
“I just wanted to say—” he began, but my cell began to ring.
I reached down to pick it up and silence the ringer, and both Jackson and I saw that it was Douglas. Douglas. I’d almost completely forgotten about him. I remembered with a stab of guilt that I was supposed to call him.
“Sorry about that,” I said, stuffing my cell phone back into my pocket. “You were saying?”
But Jackson had already gotten to his feet.
“Nothing. It was nothing. See you around.”
And he was gone. I stared after him, baffled. Could he be upset that Douglas had called me? I dismissed that thought. Why would he? He was infatuated with Just Katerina. But I was dying to know what he was going to say.
I leaned back in my seat, wondering why Jackson seemed to be such a study in contrasts. He could be open and friendly one moment, shuttered and mysterious the next. I didn’t know if I’d ever completely figure out Jackson.
“That’s her, man. Completely slammed into that hot girl. It was classic,” a loud teenaged voice said.
I turned away from Jackson’s retreating form to shoot a glare at the cluster of teenagers in the corner. They nervously backed up as I passed them but continued their snickering as I headed up to my room. This “vacation” really couldn’t be over soon enough.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Secrets and Lies
Luckily, the rest of the trip flew by. I didn’t go anywhere near the slopes for the remainder of my time there, and the snickering teenagers left the next morning. I only saw Jackson in passing—not that I was looking. Katerina was on his arm and she shot me one of her evil looks, so there was no way I was going to attempt to apologize to her again.
Mom hovered around me all weekend, telling Laurence and anyone else who would listen about how my little ski accident was similar to a tricycle accident I’d had as a child, in which I had accidentally driven into a ditch, landed on my butt in the mud, shed all my clothes, and crawled out naked and in tears, demanding to be picked up by my Mommy. I smiled tightly as Laurence looked at me, probably biting down on the insides of his cheeks to prevent himself from falling into a fit of laughter.
I was happy to return to Manhattan. I was not, however, looking forward to the tense silence between Liz and me. As I unlocked the door and entered her apartment, I decided that I’d let bygones be bygones and apologize for blowing up at her.
I set my bags down by the doorway and froze. Stewart was seated on the living room couch, a giant bowl of popcorn on his lap, watching a movie. He didn’t look at all like someone who’d been cheated on. He looked … happy.
“Hey, Adrian. How was the trip?”
“Great,” I replied, searching his expression for any sign of heartbreak.
Liz emerged from her room just then, halting in her tracks when she saw me. After a brief pause, she rushed forward to embrace me.
“Hey, Adrian. Glad you’re back. Let us help with your bags.”
This was the most she’d spoken to me in days. But her expression pleaded for me to play along. So I just smiled at Stewart as he lurched to his feet to help Liz and me drag my heavy duffel bags into my room.
As soon as he went back into the living room, I closed the door.
“Did you tell him?”
“Not yet. But I’m going to. Please don’t say anything.”
After a moment, I nodded.
“Thank you. How was your trip?” Liz asked, her voice filled with relief.
“Long story. I’ll tell you later,” I said, starting to open the door. Liz grabbed my arm.
“Please, Adrian,” she whispered. “I run on my own timeline.”
“Fine. I won’t say anything.”
When I headed back out, Stewart insisted that I join them and watch the movie.
I sat next to them on the couch, sweating bullets. I’d never been good at keeping secrets. In fact, no one ever told me secrets because I was notorious for blurting out such secrets as:
“Everyone’s planning a surprise party for you!”
“John thinks you look fat in that skirt!”
“Liz has been cheating on you!”
OK, that last one was only internal, but it was on the tip of my tongue.
I watched poor, poor Stewart as he laughed at some joke in the movie, thinking about how he had no idea that he was going to be hurt. Just like me in the days before my “wedding.” He laughed again, stuffing a bunch of popcorn into his mouth. Poor sap. He and I were so similar, laughing and enjoying our lives when until people like Liz and Marcus came along, stomping all over our hearts. I glared at Liz behind Stewart’s head, and Liz, as if reading my thoughts, glared right back.
“Hey, Adrian,” Stewart said, unaware of the silent war of looks Liz and I shared behind his head. “When are you going to schedule our interview? My parents keep bugging me about my fifteen minutes of fame. And I’m looking forward to meeting Jackson Taylor. I dug his book.”
I looked at Liz, horrified. I completely forgot I was supposed to interview them for our article. How could I do that now? Liz gave me another pleading look.
“I haven’t set a time with Jackson yet,” I said, unable to look into Stewart’s innocent, trusting eyes. He reminded me of a vulnerable puppy dog.
“All right,” Stewart said, slinging his arm around Liz’s shoulders and turning his attention back to the screen. “Just let me know. I’m free tomorrow if you guys want to do it then. I can’t wait to let the whole world know what a lucky guy I am.”
“Oh, Stewart,” Liz said, leaning forward to kiss him, though her desperate gaze was trained on me.
“Hey, where you going?” Stewart asked as I got to my feet.
“I promised Douglas I would meet him at his place,” I lied. In reality, I could hardly keep sitting there while the poor guy continued to delude himself. “See you guys later.”
I left the apartment and called Douglas on his cell, still fuming about Liz.
“Love!” Douglas’s voice boomed as he answered his phone. “Back from the ski trip?”
“Yes, thank goodness,” I said. “It was terrible. Long story. Where are you? Why are you
shouting?”
“I’m at the pub. Would you lot lower your voices! I’m talking to Adrian!” Douglas shouted. “Sorry, love. These wankers are—stop it! That’s bloody disgusting!”
“How about I stop by later?” I asked, wary. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with a group of rowdy men at a bar in the middle of the day.
“Sorry about all that. Why don’t you stop by now? I’m going to be here for a little while, and I want you to meet my mates.”
Meeting the friends in a relationship is definitely the precursor to meeting the parents, and it was a big deal. I didn’t feel the thrill I felt when Marcus introduced me to his friends. But I knew my only other option was to return to the farce that had become Liz and Stewart’s relationship back at her apartment. So I agreed.
I found Douglas and his pals at an Irish pub in Midtown. They were watching a soccer game on the wide-screen television; they all looked sloshed for a Sunday afternoon. Douglas leaped to his feet when I entered.
“This lovely lady,” Douglas said, sliding his arm around my waist as he turned to face his friends, “is my girlfriend: journalist extraordinaire, Adrian Lexley.”
I nodded at them, taking my seat next to Douglas. Again, I didn’t feel the thrill I expected to feel at Douglas referring to me as his girlfriend. Nevertheless, I tried to be the good girlfriend by trying to interact with his friends, but I felt like a complete outsider. At least with Marcus’s friends I had a rapport with some of them, and I could have comfortable conversations with them without Marcus being present. Not in this case. I could barely hear my own thoughts among their shouts at the soccer game, and one of them kept throwing out British phrases that I had never heard of, so I felt as if I were trying to interpret a different language. Every so often, Douglas would kiss me on the cheek and gaze lovingly into my eyes, but it felt forced.
I found myself wondering what Jackson and Just Katerina were up to, a thought that filled me with slight nausea. What did they do, besides the obvious bed-related stuff? I tried to imagine Katerina singing to him, but the thought made me want to laugh. No, Jackson probably just talked down to her, and Katerina would smile and nod like the vapid one-name person she was.
“Adrian, love?” Douglas asked, dragging me out of my reverie.
“Hmm?”
“You’re bored out of your mind. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
A stab of guilt pierced me. Here I was daydreaming about Jackson and Just Katerina while Douglas was making an honest effort to spend time with me.
“I’m not the biggest soccer fan in the world,” I admitted. “But how about this? I can come by tomorrow and make you dinner.”
“Really?” Douglas asked, looking at me with pleasant surprise. “You don’t strike me as the cooking kind.”
I wasn’t. The one time I attempted to make a romantic meal for Marcus, I had burned down a portion of our kitchen. Literally. We had to call the fire department and everything. They arrived and looked at the burned stove and sink, then turned to look at me as if I were some kind of pyromaniac mastermind.
“I’ve never seen anything like this and I’ve been a firefighter for twenty years. How did you manage to get the fuse from the stove to melt through those wires?” one of the firemen asked me in disbelief.
“Hey,” Marcus said, throwing his arm around me as I tried not to burst into guilty tears. “She was trying to make chicken Parmesan. It’s a complicated dish.”
Back in the present, I smiled at Douglas.
“I can throw a meal together,” I lied.
“Then I look forward to it. I missed you this weekend, by the way. I’ll count the seconds until tomorrow night,” Douglas replied as he walked me to the door.
“Oh, you romantic,” I said, and my heart did flutter a little.
I pulled back, looking up at him. He really was a great guy. I stood on tiptoe and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
When I got back to the apartment, Liz and Stewart were gone (thankfully), but Liz had left a curt note telling me she and Stewart would both be available for the interview the next day if we wanted to do it then. I knew that I couldn’t get out of the interview without blowing Liz’s cover.
The next day, I met with Jackson at the coffee shop. He greeted me with a dazzling grin as I took my seat.
“Morning, Adrian. Any bruises from your little accident?”
“Thank you so much for bringing that up. No bruises, I’m completely fine. I take it you had a good trip back? Is Katerina still furious with me?”
“A little, but she’ll get over it. Last night she kept—”
“Enough, enough,” I muttered.
His mention of Katerina being with him “last night” caused an unpleasant sensation in my stomach. I changed the subject, telling him that we could do the interview with the golden couple at Liz’s apartment that day, if he wanted. I considered telling him what was really going on with their relationship, but I decided that the less people who knew about the whole farce, the better. Jackson was eager to get the interview over and done with, so I called Liz and told her that Jackson and I would be over soon.
“We’re ready,” she said with forced brightness.
Jackson paid for our coffees and we headed over to Liz’s apartment. I was a bit uneasy about having Jackson at Liz’s place. It was like letting him into my inner sanctum or something, even if it wasn’t technically my apartment.
“So. This is your humble abode,” he announced dramatically, taking in the apartment as I let us in.
“It’s not actually my apartment. It’s my best friend Liz’s.”
“Oh, right. I assume you were living with your fiancé? Still haven’t gotten your own place yet?”
“This arrangement is working out so far,” I said, feeling a little defensive. “It’s a lot of fun to live with your best friend.”
When she isn’t making you a party to the fact that she’s cheating on the boyfriend who is desperately in love with her, I silently added.
Liz emerged from her room before Jackson could reply. She approached him, sizing him up with appreciation. I had to stifle a sarcastic snort. He wasn’t that good-looking.
“Jackson. I’m Liz. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Really?” Jackson’s sly gaze slid toward me. “I’m sorry you’ve had to listen to her complaints.”
“I’m used to it,” Liz returned, smiling.
Stewart came out of Liz’s room just then, looking awestruck as he approached Jackson. I had no idea what it was about Jackson that made every man develop an instant man crush on him.
“I loved your book, man,” Stewart said. “I have a copy here. Would you mind signing it?”
“Stewart!” both Liz and I admonished.
“It’s cool,” Jackson said. “I’d be happy to sign your book.”
“Gosh,” Stewart gushed, looking like a complete dork. “Thanks.”
We managed to tear Stewart away from Jackson. I sat everyone down in the living room, where Jackson and I proceeded to ask them our standard questions, most of which I already knew the answer to: how they met, how long they had been together, et cetera. When Jackson asked them what made their relationship work, Stewart answered.
“Honesty,” Stewart said, turning to Liz and taking her hands in his. I tried my best not to vomit. “We are completely honest with each other. If you don’t have trust, you don’t really have a relationship.”
“Absolutely,” Liz agreed, without blinking an eye.
“Would you say that’s the most important part of a relationship?” I asked, looking pointedly at Liz.
“Of course,” Stewart replied.
“Love, too,” Liz added, shooting daggers at me with her eyes and raising Stewart’s hand to her lips to place a kiss on it. “The fact that we have so much love between us. I’m such a lucky girl.”
“Love. Trust. And honesty,” Stewart said, brushing back a stray hair on Liz’s forehead, staring into her eyes. Ha. That�
�s what I believed before being jilted. Sucker.
“So what advice do you have for—” Jackson began, but I couldn’t help myself.
“And on a scale of one to ten, how important would you say it is that each partner be one hundred percent honest with each other?” I asked Stewart.
“Adrian, he already answered the question,” Liz interjected.
“Ten, of course,” Stewart answered, frowning at me. “Adrian, are you all right?”
“About everything, right?” I continued, on a roll now. “Because when people aren’t completely honest with each other, people get hurt. Wouldn’t you say?”
“Adrian, please,” Liz begged.
“Um, yes,” Stewart replied, shooting a sideways look at Liz.
“Because Marcus wasn’t totally honest with me about the whole getting married thing. So it would be a whole lot easier if we were all just completely and totally honest with each other. Honesty is the foundation of a solid relationship,” I said.
“Adrian,” Stewart said slowly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So let’s just be completely honest with each other!” I ranted, looking at Liz, who glared at me. “Liz, why don’t you be honest with Stewart?”
“Interview’s over!” Liz snapped, getting to her feet.
“You were the one who insisted on it, in spite of you-know-what!” I shouted, also getting to my feet.
“You guys, come on,” Jackson interjected. “Let’s just take a break and cool down.”
“Good idea,” Liz barked, continuing to glare at me. “I think we’ve answered enough questions.”
“You want us to leave? So you can keep lying to the poor guy?” I demanded.
“Liz, what is she talking about?” Stewart asked, looking back and forth between Liz and me.
“Liz is cheating on you!” I shouted at Stewart, past the point of no return.
A stunned silence followed my outburst. Liz opened her mouth and closed it as her eyes filled with angry tears. She looked down at Stewart, who had gone still. Jackson looked down at the floor, obviously wanting to be anywhere but here.
