Page 43 of Of Heartbreak and Harmony
He doesn’t say anything else, but I know what he’s asking, and my immediate answer surprises me.
“No.”
“No?”
I shake my head. “This is too important. I don’t want to do anything to blur the lines,” I explain, but there’s a whispering suspicion in my head that it’s not the whole reason.
I should stop there, but I don’t.
“You like her?” I ask, and Jo takes another drag from his cigarette before answering.
“I could.”
“Don’t.”
His brows rise in surprise. It’s more expression than we’re used to getting from him. There’s a hint of jealousy in my tone that he no doubt heard. It’s completely out of character for me, and I see the curiosity in his eyes.
“Because it wouldblur the lines...?” he asks, distrust lacing every word. My nostrils flare at the challenge.
“Exactly.”
I stare at him, daring him to question me further, but he doesn’t. Not because he feels threatened, but because he just doesn’t care enough to try. Jo doesn’t care about much anymore, and right now, I’m torn between letting him drop it and wishing he’d show some emotion other than indifference.
I resist the impulse to poke at him. Even anger is better than this cold detachment. I’d rather him rage out and destroy another hotel room because at least it would mean he’s allowing himself to feel something. But I’m selfish, and I don’t want to be studied by Jonah’s keen eye. His observational skills are better than most. Even when fucked up, hisability to read people is almost scarily astute. I’d rather keep my personal thoughts to myself right now.
We slip back into silence until we’re interrupted by Hammond sliding the door to the patio wide open.
“We have a problem,” he grunts, and then he turns and heads back inside.
I sigh, stand, and follow him with Jonah trailing behind me. The moment I’m through the door, my defenses go on high alert. Sav, Mabel, and Sav’s dog Ziggy are already sitting on the couch in the suite, and they all look like they’re about to attend a funeral. Even the dog.
“What happened?” I ask, eyes lingering on Sav’s solemn face. “What’s wrong?”
Hammond hands me his tablet, some sleezy gossip blog pulled up on the screen. When I scan the headline, my shoulders droop.
“They’re not buying it? Why the fuck not?”
Hammond takes the tablet back and answers me in the matter-of-fact way that he does.
“Because they didn’t see you together for three weeks until you picked her up this morning, and she looks stiff as a board when you’re near her.” He pulls up a photo and shows it to me. One of me walking her from her apartment door to my car. “Frankly, she looks like she’d rather be holding hands with a giant spider than with you.”
“Spiders don’t have hands,” Jonah chimes in, and Hammond sends him an unimpressed side-eyed glance. I’d laugh if I wasn’t so pissed.
“Of course she looks uncomfortable. She was bombarded with paparazzi at eight in the morning. It took us years to get used to it.”
Hammond brushes me off. “The photos I sent out will help, but the seed of doubt is planted now. We’ll have to do everything we can to counteract it.”
I drag my hands over my face. “Fine. The dinner tonight should help.”
“There’s something else,” Sav says, and when I look at her, her face is full of concern. “That article was texted to me from an unmarked number.”
“The stalker?”
She lifts a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Who else?”
My impulse to go to her, to hold her and protect her, makes my muscles ache. For years, I was the one comforting Sav. I used to be the one she confided in, but I can’t be that guy anymore. She’s chosen someone else to fill that role. But where the fuck is he? I grind my teeth as Mabel rests her head on Sav’s shoulder, a gesture that lessens my anxiety by a fraction.
“Mother fuck. We have got to find this guy and have him arrested.”
