Page 36 of Dead Girls Don’t Forget

“Didn’t realize Jackson was bringing company,” she said, eyes flicking over me. “Harper, right? From lectures.”

“That’s me.”

“Mhm.” She continued toward the kitchen, then looked at Jackson. A small smile tugged at her mouth. “Two girls in three days. That might be a record.”

The silence was sudden and heavy. I didn't react outwardly and ignored the unwelcome stab of... whatever that was.

“Lia,” Rick warned.

“What?” She blinked, all innocence. “Naomi was here Saturday. I just meant—”

“Lia. Stop.” Jackson’s voice was low and flat. The warmth had vanished.

She recalibrated instantly. “Sorry. Bad joke.” Her gaze slid to me. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

I said nothing. She understood the silence perfectly.

Jackson’s hand settled at the small of my back. Every sensible part of me told me to step away.

I didn't.

“Come on.”

We headed for the stairs, Lia's eyes on my back the whole way up. My cat was hissing. I told her to knock it off. She didn't listen.

Jackson's room was at the end of the hall. He pushed the door open, let me in, and closed it behind us. When he turned to face me, there was nothing casual left in his expression.

“Naomi broke in Saturday night,” he said. Straight to it. “After the party. She was in my bed when I got home.”

Something tight twisted in my chest.

“She wasn’t wearing anything,” he continued. “I told her to leave. She argued. I told her again. She finally left.” He held my gaze. “That’s what happened.”

I didn’t say anything. My cat had gone quiet.

“I’m telling you because Lia’s comment might have given the wrong impression.”

“It’s not my business,” I said.

“Maybe not.” He took a step closer. “I’m telling you anyway.”

I looked around his room. Neat without being sparse. Books on the shelf in no particular order. A desk that had been used. A window looking out over the corner lot and the quiet street below.

“She has a key?” I asked.

“She didn’t. We’re changing the locks.”

“Mm.”

“Harper.”

I met his eyes.

“I don’t want her,” he said, low and steady. “I haven’t for a long time.”

“You were together?”

“No. A few times when we were younger we slept together—hormones and proximity, nothing more. Never serious. Never exclusive.” His voice stayed even. “Once she started pushing for more, I kept my distance. Saturday night was not something I invited or wanted.” A pause. “What’s happening right now is something I do want. I need you to know the difference.”