She knew Jacks was far too dangerous a person to truly fall for. But she could no longer deny that it was happening. She couldn’t deny that she wanted him. Just enough to keep her from pulling away every time he touched her. Enough to keep his name near the tip of her tongue even when he wasn’t in the room. The physical attraction had always been there, but her pull toward him had been increasing ever since the night they’d jumped off that cliff together.
Because she’d never actually stopped falling.
Her blood rushed faster and her heart stuttered. She tried not to move, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell as they lay in that bed, chests pressed close and legs tangled together. Everything between them felt as fragile as a raindrop that would cease to exist when it touched the ground. But the Hollow also felt like the sort of place where raindrops never touched the ground.
Jacks slowly ran a hand up and down her spine. “Have you decided to stay?”
“I thought you already heard what I was thinking,” she whispered.
“I want you to say it out loud.” His words were low and quiet; she wouldn’t have heard them if she hadn’t been so close. And it struck her how intimate words could be, how they could be spoken only once, for only one person, and they would never be heard again, they would disappear like a moment, gone almost as soon as you realized they were there.
Evangeline’s heart was still racing, and she wondered now if it wasn’t scared or nervous but if it was just trying to catch up to all the moments before they disappeared—before he disappeared. She knew it would happen; it always did, Jacks always left, which made this even more foolish, and yet right now, she didn’t want to be smart. She just wanted to be his.
She meant to say, For tonight, I’m yours, but all that came out was “I’m yours.”
38
That night, the Handsome Stranger was in the Hollow’s tavern, standing just a few feet away, throwing darts at a painted board on the wall and hitting the red bullseye every time.
“I know,” he said. “It’s hard to believe I’m so handsome and so talented.”
Swish.
He hit another bullseye, with all the ease of a young man who was either incredibly skillful or incredibly used to things happening the way that he wanted.
“Why are you haunting my dreams?”
“‘Haunting’ implies that I’m dead. Do I look dead to you?” He placed a hand over his chest and gave her a bewitching smile.
She still hesitated to trust him, but the sense of familiarity was back. The way he looked at her felt like a dare she’d received once before. He was a name on the tip of her tongue that she couldn’t quite recall. A feeling that she couldn’t put a name to.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I still prefer Handsome Stranger.”
Evangeline gave him a sour look. “Why not just tell me?”
He pulled at the back of his neck. “I would, but that might make Jacks a bit jealous, and given how close you two are becoming, that wouldn’t be a good idea. Although getting cozy with Jacks isn’t too smart, either.”
The stranger raised two condescending brows.
“What I do with Jacks is none of your business,” Evangeline snapped.
The Handsome Stranger frowned. “I’m not trying to upset you, Evangeline, I’m trying to save your life.”
“Why do you care about my life?” she asked suspiciously.
The Handsome Stranger threw another dart, hard enough to cut through one of the other darts in the bullseye. “You need to be careful with Jacks. I don’t think he’s in his right mind right now.”
“He’s right.” LaLa stepped into the tavern dressed in a sleeveless gown that appeared as if it were made of treasure, with a belt around her waist that looked like a crown, and a full skirt covered in sparkling jewels.
“What are you doing here?” Evangeline asked.
“Yeah—this is my dream!” The Handsome Stranger tossed a dart at LaLa.
She batted it away with a scowl. “We’re on the same side, you nitwit.” Then she turned to Evangeline with a face that looked like an apology.
“I came to say I’m sorry—about Apollo. I felt so guilty. I had hoped to talk to you about it and explain everything before you ran off from the party. Jacks had promised he wouldn’t tell you what I did—”
“He didn’t tell me,” Evangeline cut in, too tired to be polite to the person who’d cursed her husband to hunt her down and kill her. “Jacks never said a word. I overheard the two of you talking.”