Jackson turned around. His handsome features were twisted with grief and his blonde hair was hanging over his forehead.
“What?” Jackson hissed. “What the fuck do you want, Belle?”
I licked my lips and swallowed. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about Mitchell,” I said softly. “I know we haven’t always gotten along before, but I think we should make more of an effort now.”
Jackson crossed his muscular arms over his bulging chest. Even in his tailored suit, I could tell that he was ripped. I blushed as I thought about what he looked like without that suit on. Stop it, Belle, this is a funeral for God’s sake! I thought as the blood rushed to my cheeks. You can’t be ogling him. He’s your stepbrother!
“Oh yeah?” Jackson raised his eyebrows. “And why would we get along now, Belle?” He stepped closer and a wave of musky, masculine cologne washed over my face. “Has something changed between us?”
My heart was in my throat as Jackson stepped nearer again, closing the distance between our bodies.
“Um,” I said softly. “I just thought…” I trailed off, my mouth dry and achy. “I just thought that…”
“You thought what?” Jackson’s eyes flashed cruelly. He flicked his glance over my body, down my sides and over the curve of my bust line. “You thought that my dad dying would somehow make everything okay?”
“Jackson, I’m just really sorry,” I said in a rush. “I’m really sorry about Mitchell. He was a good guy. I know it must be really hard.”
Jackson’s lips curled into a cruel sneer.
“Fuck off,” he snarled. “I don’t need your sympathy, Belle. You don’t understand me at all.” He turned on his heel and stalked off.
As I watched Jackson walk away, anger and resentment filled my body. Fuck you, I thought. I tried being nice and you just threw it back in my face.
At that moment, I made a vow to never say anything kind to Jackson Rhodes for the rest of my life.
I couldn’t wait to get back to school. The tension was too much to bear. Even though I didn’t see Jackson again after the funeral, I felt him everywhere I went. Mom was too upset and distracted to notice – she spent most of her days crying and staying in bed – and I’d done nothing but pretend to study while actually watching bad reruns of Teen Mom on MTV.
As soon as I got home, Alexa hugged me and handed me a glass of wine.
I laughed. “It’s ten in the morning, babe,” I said, staring down at the glass of cabernet in my right hand. “You sure about this?”
Alexa raised her eyebrows. “It’s finals week,” she said smugly. “That means we can drink all day if we don’t have a final.”
I groaned. “Aren’t you forgetting about studying?”
Alexa shrugged and gave me a guilty look. “I thought you’d like it,” she said. “Don’t you want to tell me about your trip?”
I sighed. Leaving my suitcase by the door, I kicked off my ice-crusted boots and hung my jacket up in the foyer. I’d always been one of those people who liked to unpack immediately, but the smell of the wine in my hand was too tempting to resist.
Walking into the kitchen, I sat down at one of the wooden chairs. “It was okay,” I told Alexa. “I mean, it was really horrible. Mom is so devastated. I don’t know what she’s going to do. And God, that asshole Jackson! He practically ruined the whole reception! He drank a whole handle of whiskey and passed out on the floor.”
“He’s probably hurting,” Alexa said.
I glared at her. “He ruined everything,” I said sharply. “He’s a cocky asshole who can’t stand one second not being about him, and he ruined everything.”
“Belle, Jackson’s going through a lot.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah, well so am I,” I said hotly. “And I don’t treat everyone like crap!”
“How’s your mom doing?”
“Terrible,” I said flatly. “She’s crushed. I’ve never seen her this devastated about anything before. I don’t know what to do – it’s impossible to take care of her right now.”
Alexa nodded and sipped at her wine. “Well, I’m sure Mitchell made plans to take care of her,” she said wisely. “A guy with that much money wouldn’t exactly leave his widow bereft.”
I nodded. “I’m sure you’re right.”
“Have you heard anything?”