Taking the Heat (Jackson: Girls' Night Out 3)

“Sure,” Naomi called. “You two have fun.”

Veronica heard him close the door behind her. She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs that had draped over her brain. “They’re models,” she murmured.

“I’m so, so sorry, Veronica. You have to believe me.” He pulled her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin.

“Your sister is a fashion model.”

“Yes,” he said.

“In New York.”

“Sometimes.”

Veronica’s mind was working again and it kept turning things over and finding new details that she did not want to see. “MacKenzie’s,” she whispered.

Gabe didn’t have a response for that. She felt his chest rise beneath her as he inhaled.

She put her hand up and pushed him back until he let her go. “MacKenzie’s,” she repeated. “As in the famous New York burger place?”

He winced and let out a long breath before he answered. “Yeah.”

“You said you lived in New York when you were a kid.”

His head dipped in a careful nod. “I did. I left when I was eighteen. My family is still there, but I haven’t lived there in thirteen years.”

“Oh.” The cold creeping up her fingers reminded her she was still holding the beer and she downed the rest of it. She wasn’t quite sure why she felt so hurt. She couldn’t get mad at him for where he was from, could she? But she was mad. She’d trusted him. Trusted that she could be awkward and honest and uncertain with him, because his world hadn’t been filled with girls like the ones who were lounging on his couch right now. Girls who were everything Veronica had never been. “I didn’t know,” she finally managed to say.

“That’s not my life,” he said, and she could hear the pleading in those words.

“But...” She frowned. “Did you keep that from me on purpose? When I talked about the city, you never said anything about your parents living there. You didn’t say anything about MacKenzie’s. I mean, that’s kind of big. Everybody goes there. I’ve been there!”

He paced over to the window of his bedroom and then back. She was in his bedroom for the first time and she wasn’t even sure she should bother looking around. She might never be here again.

“Okay,” he started. “When we met, I played it down on purpose, because Lauren introduced us like we had Manhattan in common. I didn’t want to encourage it. I didn’t want to date a girl from Manhattan.”

She nodded. He’d already told her most of that.

“And then... I don’t know. We haven’t talked much about our families yet.”

“We talked about the city,” she cut in.

He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “I’m sorry. It was wrong not to be more up-front about it. It seemed like you’d think of me as one of those guys you dated in New York. And you didn’t like any of those guys.”

She hugged her arms tight together and tried to figure out what she felt. It wasn’t his fault that she’d revealed so much of herself right from the start. It wasn’t as if he’d demanded to know everything about her and then he’d refused to say anything about himself. “Why did you leave?” she asked. The question so many people had asked her. The thing she’d lied about a hundred times.

“Because it wasn’t the right place for me. I don’t hate it. I could imagine living there. It’s where I grew up and almost everyone I love is there. But if I had a choice, I’d choose this.”

That was what really mattered, wasn’t it? He couldn’t help where he was from. Hell, there wasn’t even anything wrong with New York; it just intimidated her, and she didn’t want to be intimidated by Gabe.

“Your sister is a New York model,” she said flatly.

“She’s really nice, though.”

Yes, Veronica could see that. “Tell me that you never dated Monique.”

“Never,” he said, then added, “ever,” with a hopeful smile.

“Did you date any of her other model friends?” Veronica hated the sullenness in her voice, but that was how she felt. Sullen. It was childish, but true.