Page 64 of On the Edge

She has no idea what she’s starting here. If there’s anything I know about Johnny, it’s that women aren’t safe in his presence. There have been a lot of accusations over the years, but none that have turned into charges. With one more shove, she pushes me away and I watch as Johnny walks her back to her table. Once there, he plops himself in the open seat next to her.

Well, shit.

“Unbelievable,” Dan laughs when I get back to our table and take a seat that allows me full view of Jackson’s table. “You found the one girl who is immune to your charms.”

“Not immune,” I clarify, “just resistant.”

The guys all laugh like I’d intended, but the churning in my gut is there anyway. Every time Jackson and I take a step forward, we follow it up with two steps back. Our relationship is heading in the wrong direction and I’m starting to question if it’s just my stubbornness that’s refusing to let go of something that’s already dead. But then images of the party in Finland and Jackson leading me to her hotel room flash through my mind, followed closely by memories of our flight from Paris when it seemed like we’d really made headway in overcoming our past.This isn’t dead yet, I assure myself.

I’d worried a little bit when I first got to Park City that maybe I was in love with some previous version of Jackson, and that she wouldn’t be the same person now. But this version of her—stronger, more self-assured, more independent—is as much of a turn-on as ever. Which is why it’s hard to watch her sitting there next to another man.

I shoot the shit with the guys for a while longer, my concern growing as I watch Jackson down two more drinks. She doesn’t seem particularly into Johnny—she’s not overly focused on him, hasn’t put her hand on him or leaned into him—but he’s still at their table and he seems particularly into her. I wonder if she’s told him she has a boyfriend?Not that I think it’d make any difference to him.

When he stands and reaches out for her hand, then leads her to the dance floor, I know trouble is brewing. The problem with Johnny is that he doesn’t know how to take no for an answer—in any aspect of his life, but especially with women. It’s put us at odds before.

“Introduce me to the goddess,” Luke says to me, nodding toward Petra.

“An introduction from me is not going to hold much weight,” I tell him. “She’s one of Jackson’s best friends, so she probably hates my guts.”

I glance beyond where Sierra and Petra are sitting, heads close in conversation, and make sure I can still see Jackson. She’s swaying on the dance floor, not in time with the music. Johnny’s got his hands on her, one on her hip and one wrapped around her shoulder. I’m not sure if he’s holding her up or dancing with her, but all the alarm bells are going off in my head.

I stand, but Luke takes it to mean I’m going to introduce him to Petra and he trails behind me. I glance over my shoulder to find Dan and Mark right behind him.Shit.

I veer off course to deposit my friends at Sierra and Petra’s table.

“Ladies,” I say, giving them my most charming smile. The one that women generally find impossible to resist. Sierra’s face hardens like stone, but Petra’s is more friendly. She stands and gives me a kiss on each cheek.

“Who do we have here?” She nods toward my friends, her husky voice is the purr of a lioness toying with her next meal.

I introduce my friends and as they start chatting with Sierra and Petra, I glance up to check on Jackson. But she’s not on the dance floor. I scan the crowd, checking the bar area and the other tables. She’s not there either.

“Fuck,” I growl as I start to move toward the front of the bar. I hear my friends asking what’s wrong behind me, but I don’t turn back to answer. There isn’t time. I need to find Jackson, I need to make sure she’s okay.

I get to the front of the bar and still don’t see her anywhere. I can feel the light coating of sweat that’s broken out all over me in response to the panic that’s flooding my body.Shit, where is she?

From behind me, an arm points toward the window. “She’s outside,” Mark says and we both break into a run, bursting through the door and past the bouncers.

Not thirty feet away Jackson’s struggling as Johnny is pulling her down the sidewalk. It’s becoming a scene and several people have stopped around them. “Sorry, my drunk girlfriend doesn’t want to leave,” he tells the onlookers.

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Jackson yells, but she’s slurring her words and I can see the doubt on the faces of those who stopped to help. They don’t know who’s telling the truth.

“Hey, asshole,” I yell as we run to catch up to them. Johnny’s head spins around toward me, and Jackson finally shakes him loose.

“Nate,” she cries as she runs toward me.

I grab her shoulders. “Don’t move,” I say, and she nods because my voice leaves no room for disagreement.

I spin and start chasing after Johnny, who’s running down the street like the fucking coward that he is. “Nate,” Mark says from right behind me before he clamps his hand on my shoulder, pulling me back. “Just stop.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” I yell at Johnny’s retreating back, but I slow my steps. I watch him jump over the mound of snow along the sidewalk and climb into the passenger side of his truck. “I’m going to bury that asshole,” I mutter to Mark.

“Okay, but maybe don’t announce your intentions at the top of your lungs on a crowded sidewalk,” Mark says as we turn back toward Jackson. “You know, just in case he turns up dead.”

I cough out a laugh before raising my eyes to find Jackson and make sure she’s okay. The small crowd of people around her is dispersing, but as I come toward her two women move between us like a wall. She’s shivering in her leggings and sweater because of course she doesn’t have her coat on.

I look straight at Jackson. “Let’s get you home.”

They turn toward her. “Is this your boyfriend?”

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