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“Oh, God,” he breathes, looking down. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I…” I hold it up, and red is already springing up from underneath. Did I bust open a stitch? “I think I—”
I look back to him, his hair in disarray from my hand. His eyes are trained on the red spot on my bandage.
That’s when I come-to. Snap violently back into reality like a tight rubber band.
Crossing his arms and tapping his foot, Stephen’s somewhere in the haze of my consciousness. Exasperated. Judging.
Jake senses the shift in me, and his hand falls from my back.
“What am I doing?” I say into the space between us. I fell for it. I totally fell for his act to win me over. Check box one: Trick Scarlett into sleeping with me. Next up: Make her think I have feelings for her. Finally: Convince her not to run the story so I can finish out my season with no troubles from her or Meaghan or the AJC.
He doesn’t answer. He knows it wasn’t for him.
My eyes shoot up to his, searching. And something angry flickers inside. At him. His family. But mainly, myself; at every stupid little decision that brought me here to this moment on the rock. But I don’t know what to do with it. With any of it, so I shakily stand.
Jake watches with something like hurt playing in his features. “Scarlett?” he says.
I ignore him and step onto the soft ground. How dare he? How dare he play victim right now.
He stands. “Scarlett are you—”
I hold my hand out as I stagger toward Butterscotch. “Don’t…” I manage.
He doesn’t push me. Just watches as I untie my horse, scramble onto the saddle, and give her a gentle kick to take me back toward the stables.
