Page 33 of Eternally Yours


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I park my old Prius in the circular driveway of Lilian’s sleek gray stone mansion that’s lit up like a lantern in the winter night.

“This estate calls to mind the estates and grand manors from the time I last walked the earth, several hundred years ago,” Jax says, staring up through the windshield.

I glare at him. “Could you at least try not to say things like that tonight?”

Jax nods solemnly. “Indeed.”

I look again at the neatly trimmed hedges flanking the curved, lighted stone steps to the front door and sigh. “Welp, we’re definitely not in Kansas anymore.”

Jax frowns. “ ‘Kansas’? I should think not. I’m fairly surewe are in the northeast of the United States.”

I squeeze my eyes shut—this might just end up being a total disaster—and then try on a benevolent smile. “Don’t worry about it, Jax. Just follow my lead tonight, okay? And remember: Taylor Swift is not the world’s fastest seamstress. She’s—”

“A celebrity singer, yes, I remember.”

Hopefully he won’t be likely to forget after the way I laughed hysterically for a good five minutes the last time he made that mistake.

After taking a deep breath, I nod to myself and turn off the car. Then I make a move to open the door, but Jax puts a hand on my arm. “Just a moment.”

I watch in confusion as he gets out of the car and goes around to my side, where he opens the door for me. I’m totally taken aback for a moment, but then I grin. “I could get used to this!”

I hop out of the car and brush down my red dress. It’s the perfect scarlet for tonight, I think: a drop of blood in the white snow around us. It’s more formfitting than the stuff I usually wear, but I’m hoping it still looks good.

I’m almost to the front stairs when I realize Jax isn’t with me. Turning, I find him staring at me with an odd look on his face.

“...Are you coming?” I ask, unsure.

“Yes, of course,” he says, shaking his head a little, as if he’s clearing it.

I’m not sure what Jax was staring at, but now I’m worriedhe’s having second thoughts. What if he disappears in a puff of smoke in front of everyone? How the hell—pun intended—will I explain that to Lilian? But as he walks up to me, his expression is clear and there’s no hint of hesitation about his features.

He looks like aGQmodel in the olive-green sweater I managed to salvage from the Goodwill pile. And the dark-wash jeans I got my dad for Christmas last year (that he never wears) look perfect on Jax. I rubbed a little bit of gel through his hair, and it lands in a perfect wave across his forehead. Striding across the circular driveway in these fancy surroundings, he looks European—like a modern-day Mr.Darcy or something.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, frowning at me, and I realize I’ve been staring at him too intently. Jesus, Nia. Creeping out a literal demon. That’s low, even for you.

“No, I—”

“Nia? Nia Porter! Is that you? Come around the side! We’re all by the lake!”

I swivel toward the fluty, high-class voice and ready a smile as I begin to walk toward it. “Well,” I say quietly to Jax, who falls into step beside me. The cold wind carries his scent to me: honey and cloves. “Here we go. Get ready to be enchanted by Lilian Peters.”

“ ‘Enchanted’?” he says as we round the corner and see a group of teens in the distance, spread out across the bank of a small but gorgeous frozen lake. “That’s a strong word.”

I sigh and smooth out my short hair, which, as usual, hasdecided to misbehave at a very inconvenient time. “Yeah, well, Lilian has that effect on people. All I ask is that you keep the admiration-slash-lust off your face while you’re pretending to be my date. I don’t think my ego could take it, even though this”—I gesture between him and me—“is all fake.”

Jax considers me quizzically for a long moment. He looks out at the group of teenagers—all of them dressed in clothes that are clearly much fancier than mine; all of them magazine-beautiful like Jax; all of them in pairs. Then, turning back to me, he takes my hand. “Come on,” he says with finality. “Let’s go and meet Lilian.”

I glance down at our clasped hands as we make our way to the group. Whoa. I’m holding hands with a demon. An actual, no-shit demon. A very, very scandalously handsome demon. His skin is warm and firm; it feels just like human skin. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that. The grooves in his palm press into the grooves of mine and for just a moment, with our life lines and past lines and future lines all pressed up against each other, I feel a wave of dizziness wash over me. But it’s gone in the next moment, and I take a deep gulp of the crisp winter breeze blowing off the lake.

We’re coming up on the group now and Lilian’s staring at me, a slow smile spreading across her face as she takes in Jax and then the fact that we’re holding hands. As usual, her beautiful black skin is polished to a shine thanks to the unavailable-to-the-regular-public Korean skin-care regimenshe uses (but Lilian gave me a sample to use once and OMG totally worth the hype).

“Nia! I’m so happy you could come!” She walks forward in a bright red jumpsuit and bends down to give hobbit-size me a hug, smelling like a spring meadow. Then she turns her bright, dazzling smile on Jax. Poor Jax. But I did warn him. “And who’s this?”

“This is my date, Jax Locke,” I say, coming up with the last name on the spot. It kinda sounds like his real, full name, right? To his credit, Jax doesn’t flinch.

“A pleasure to meet you,” he says, taking Lilian’s hand and bowing over it. “And my sincere gratitude for hosting us on your estate.”

Oh, shit. Lilian looks half-confused, half-amused, as if she’s not sure whether Jax is trolling her. I trill a laugh and smack Jax’s arm. Holy shit, that’s firm. “Jax is... an actor!” I say quickly, the lies coming out of my mouth in an unstoppable stream. If I had time to think, I’d worry about the quality of my character. “He’s rehearsing for this period drama he wants to audition for. So he’s going to be in character all night. I hope you don’t mind!”