Page 32 of Haunted Hearts

I pause, waiting for Kai to get angry or give some sarcastic retort. But he just lets out a dry laugh. “Feel free to enlighten me.”

Jack takes my hand in his and twirls me. His touch even feels different, my fingers buzzing as the sensation of his hand on mine gives me butterflies, and I pull away.

“I think I need another drink…” I say, turning on my heels, grabbing the bottle from Kai.

After more shots, my body relaxes throughout the afternoon as we all sit in the living room, taking turns picking songs.

Jack suddenly jumps off the couch, moving across the other end of the open room. He grabs a piece of bread off the kitchen counter behind us, shoving it into his mouth as he plops back down. I shoot him a confused look.

“What? I’m hungry and the damn toaster’s broken,” he says through a full mouth.

I pause, remembering Kai’s love for possessing inanimate objects when he looks over at me with a shit-eating grin. I chuckle under my breath despite myself.

“Now what’s that look for?” Jack asks, curiosity flickering. My cheeks heat and I down the remainder of the whiskey in my glass.

“You look so cute when you’re embarrassed,” Kai says.

Jack looks over at Kai, elbows on his knees, glancing back and forth between us. The low light from the fireplace is beginning to dim.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say too quickly.

“Don’t play dumb, pretty girl,” he retorts.

I fixate on the fireplace, the embers gray with a soft red glow. “I’m gonna get some firewood!” I jump up, eager to get out of this conversation.

Kai stands, gently pushing my shoulders down. I flop back onto the couch.

“I’ll do it. It’s cold out there,” he says, looking between Jack and me. He tilts his head as he walks away.

“You two behave yourselves,” he says, walking out the door.

What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is he toying with me? Does he know something?

No fucking way. This is Kai we’re talking about. He’s possessive as hell, the same guy who threatened to kill Jack if he so much as touched me, but the way they have been acting…

“Jack, I have a question,” I blurt out, my speech slurred.

“Ask away.”

“Are you comfortable? I mean, is it awkward—between us, I mean?” I ask.

He acts as if he’s pondering this deeply before responding. “I think so. If you’re referring to the fact that I caught you spying on us earlier then scurrying away like a little mouse, I thought it was cute. You clearly liked whatever you think you saw, I can tell.” He brushes a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“You can’t just say stuff like that, Jack,” I say, scooting away from him. “You’re my best friend, and that’s just confusing. Besides, I didn’t see anything.”

He looks at me for a moment too long—studying me. He is so close I can almost count every long lash. He bites his bottom lip, and my eyes fixate on the subtle movement. I suddenly feel stripped down, like he can see through me.

“Can you stop staring at me?” I ask, turning my head away.

“Can you?” he shoots back, smirking. “You can’t erase the fact that we have a history, you know how I feel.”

I don’t know if it’s the whiskey or the pent-up anger and stress from everything but I stand angrily.

“What the hell, Jack!” I say, looking down at him. “Why the hell would you say something like that to me? As I recall, it was you who shut it down.” I don’t stop myself as I lay it all out. “I told myself it was okay because of our situation, but I was heartbroken. You had no issue going out every chance you got, and I accepted that. So why now do you choose to throw it in my face when I’m finally happy?”

He stands, hands out in a pacifying gesture. “Whoa! Down, girl. I didn’t mean to get you all riled up.” He lifts my chin to meet his eyes. “I’m just testing the waters; my feelings haven’t changed.”

“That’s not my problem. Stop saying things you know are fucking confusing.”