Jackson's mind raced as he processed Isabella's words. Thanks to his bizarre journey through parallel worlds, he was still 28, but he should be 37 to her. Yet here she was, commenting on how young he looked. He felt like he was walking a tightrope over a pit of temporal confusion.
"Yep, late thirties," he lied smoothly, praying she wouldn't ask for specifics. "But you know what they say - age is just a number, right?"
"Whatever you're doing, it's working. You barely look a day over 30."
"Clean living and a deal with the devil," Jackson joked, hoping his nervous laughter didn't give him away.
She leaned forward. "So, tell me, Jackson. Are you still as... adventurous as you used to be?"
"Adventurous?"
"Oh, come on. Don't play coy. I remember the stories that used to float around the of
