“Let’s talk about something else,” I say and to show her that I’m not bothered by any of this, I reach forward and set my beer on the table, taking my pizza slice in hand again.
“Let’s talk about Jett,” Jenna says with an almost lewd smile on her face. “Hasn’t he turned out to be quite the burning hunk of surprise?”
I roll my eyes at my sister, but I get what she means. “He definitely isn’t what I thought he’d be.”
“I’m glad you gave him a chance,” she says, ignoring her pizza for the time being and crossing her legs Indian style as she settles back into her chair. “What he did for Felicity last night was really sweet.”
“Mmm,” I hum low in my throat, a concurrence of sorts.
She frowns at me. “You don’t think what he did was sweet?”
“I think it was too sweet,” I reply candidly. Because I’ve been thinking about that moment he walked into the gym. I caught sight of him and had this major realization wash through me that he’s the one I could lose my heart to like no other.
“Why is that a problem?” she asks, head tilted.
“I’m afraid to get hurt again,” I tell her honestly. Jenna is one I’d never hide my feelings from.
I couldn’t.
Not when I’d sat by her as she recovered from her horrible burns and accepted every wretched truth that came out of her mouth. It tore my soul to hear how much she was hurting, how much she wanted the pain to end, and how she thought her life was over. Jenna was truthful with me—not our parents—about her darkest thoughts and because of that, I will always be honest with her.
“Why would you ever think Jett would hurt you?” she asks.
“I didn’t think Shane ever would,” I mutter, because I can’t give her one solid reason Jett has given me to think that. I’m operating solely on past hurts.
Jenna makes a sound deep in her throat that had it come out her mouth, might have been the word “bullshit”. Instead, she says, “Shane and Jett are nothing alike and you know that. Shane has a drug problem, and not that it’s an excuse, that is also an illness that prevents him from being responsible and holding commitments. That is nothing like Jett.”
My sweet, strong sister is speaking the truth, and it’s something I’ve told myself over and over again the last two days as I’ve been fighting feelings of fear and a sense of impending doom. Shane triggered all of this, I know. Just as I know it’s something I have to reason my way through.
As if he knew he might be the subject of discussion, my phone starts ringing and I see Jett’s name pop up on my screen. He’s probably at the arena in Los Angeles, well into pre-game prep, but his call doesn’t surprise me. He has always managed to reach out just for a quick hello at some point before a game starts. He does it to give me the opportunity to wish him luck, knowing I’ll never be the one to call him because I don’t want to disturb him. I told him that before, and since then, he calls me so I know he’s got the time for a quick chat.
“Hey, you,” I say as I answer the phone, making my tone light and flirty. I don’t want him to hear anything in my voice that will clue him in to me and Jenna having a serious conversation about my doubts and fears.
“Just calling to check in real quick,” he says, which is code for I have time for you, Emory. I want you to know that I’m thinking of you just before I step out onto the ice. Damn him for that snagging of my heart as well. “What did you do today?”
I give him the quick rundown, ending with, “And now I’m eating pizza and drinking beer with Jenna. We’re settled in to watch the game.”
“And Miss Felicity?” he inquires.
Which is code for, How is she doing in the bright light of the day after her father bailed on her?
“She’s more than fine,” I say softly. “She had the best time with you last night and she’s having a sleepover at a friend’s house tonight.”
Jett is silent for a moment as he processes this, but he doesn’t say what we’re both thinking.
Last night still had some type of negative effect on Felicity, we just don’t yet know the damage Shane inflicted.
“Heard anything from the douchebag?” Jett grumbles in a low voice.
“Not a word.”
Another long pause, before he asks, and the tenderness in his voice almost makes me cry, “And you… how are you really doing?”
I blink my eyes hard, perfectly aware that Jenna is listening, and while I normally don’t hold anything back from my sister, it’s Jett who has captured my attention right now.
“I’m overwhelmed,” I answer truthfully, but I keep my voice strong so he doesn’t worry.
“It’s more than that,” he says, which means he knows I’m not being one hundred percent truthful.
“It’s nothing,” I assure him. I don’t want his head to be on anything but the game before him.
“It’s something and I’m not hanging up until you spill it,” he replies, and despite the fact my heart is hammering and my insides are jumbled up, I smile.
Sighing, I tell him the full truth. “I feel fragile, and that’s hard for me to admit.”
“Because you’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever known,” he says, a reminder to me to not forget that.
“I appreciate that.” I am really, really grateful Jett is the type to keep me grounded. “But I feel like paper that’s being pulled and twisted, ready to tear at any minute.”
He doesn’t tell me that’s ludicrous. He doesn’t reiterate that I’m a woman with a spine of steel. He doesn’t even try to get me to minimize my feelings in any way.
Instead he says, “Then let me be that layer of cardboard behind you.”
I’m struck by a wave of giddy joy over his bold proclamation of commitment, and hilarity over his analogy, that I can’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry. I just had this image of one of those life-size cardboard cutouts people have of their favorite celebrity.”
“They actually sell those of me,” Jett says, joining me in the humor. “I’ll buy one for you.”
“Okay,” I reply, my laughter fizzling.
“I have to go,” he says brusquely.
“Play great tonight. I bet you’ll hear me cheering all the way in L.A.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow morning.” And my stomach flips in both excitement and trepidation. I hate the duality of my emotions where Jett is concerned, and I start to hate Shane for causing me to start having doubts about his actions. “Can I come see you? I know it’s a school night so I can bring dinner for everyone.”
Another wave of confusion hits me. Extreme gratitude for his generosity. He and I don’t get a lot of time together, so it would have been entirely appropriate to ask me to stay at his house tomorrow. I would have said yes too.
But also a jab of fear that Jett is becoming something I didn’t think I ever wanted again.
Was too afraid to want.
“Emory?” Jett prompts when I don’t answer.
“Um… yeah, maybe.” My mind races, wondering if I should accept, if I should instead offer to come to him so I can get lost in the amazing things he will do to me if we’re alone. If I should cut ties with him, and while I hate that the thought popped into my mind, I don’t fully push it away.