Page 19

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

Fable

The last week, I’ve been so embarrassed that I’ve allowed Jett to put some space between us. I can’t believe how my mom acted about him, but more so, I hate that he knows she wasn’t happy finding us the way she did. While I hate the distance we now have, I am thankful for it, because my mind is a mess. It’s a scary thing to feel things you’ve never felt. Especially when you’ve been told you couldn’t.

Yet Jett makes me feel them with ease. I don’t understand what I’m feeling, and I couldn’t put it into words when I talked to my therapist, Alissa, last week. I danced all around the subject of Jett, never really diving in. I’m pretty sure Alissa knew too, but she let me be, and I don’t know if that was for the best.

Everything else may be insanely confusing and frustrating, but I do know I’ve missed him this past week. Our meetings have been cordial. We still go back and forth, but he is agreeing with me more than he is flat-out saying no. Though, the playfulness is gone. I haven’t seen him outside of our meetings, and then at the game last night, he didn’t even acknowledge me. He hasn’t really looked at me. I haven’t even caught him staring at my boobs, and I don’t like that one bit.

I’ve spent the last twenty years rebelling against everything my parents wanted from me, and now, I’m scared these feelings are just that. Me going against everything they want. But if that’s the case, then why do my eyes meeting his send peace but also heat throughout my body? I’d thought that feeling was foreign to someone like me, but Jett makes me feel it.

Everything is just so complicated.

It’s not only the perplexing thoughts about Jett that have me on edge. It’s that, this whole week, my mom has found something to bitch at me for. If it’s not how I don’t load the dishwasher correctly, then it’s about my skates not being hung all the way on the peg. Make that one make sense to me, because I’m having a hard time understanding how I’m hanging skates wrong. I swear she hasn’t been going into the office just to find things I’m doing wrong. Too many towels, too much food being eaten, and then she started blaming me for things going missing. I haven’t taken anything of my mom’s. I haven’t even been to her part of the house, but she stays busy in mine. Kitty tries to run interference, but she’s grieving, and it’s not her job to protect me any longer. I’m supposed to be caring for her.

It’s my duty.

Not only to her but to myself.

And shit, I feel the need to care for Jett. Protect him from my parents and reassure him. Instead of space, maybe I should have taken care of him, but I chose the coward’s way out. The fear of acting on these feelings leaves me in shambles, because if I can’t give him what my body thinks it wants, I think he’ll leave me behind once more.

And I don’t know if I can do that again.

I look over Hazel’s shoulder, where she is leaning down to look at my work, to see where he is. Jett is practically leaning off the table, shirtless, with his eyes trained on the skin I’m revealing. He’s holding on for dear life, and I’m surprised the table hasn’t flipped. By the look in his eyes, I don’t even think a table flipping and him busting his ass could stop him from drinking me in. I hold back my laughter at how silly he looks, but knowing he wants to see has me reeling.

It’s an all-consuming feeling when a man looks at a woman the way Jett is looking at me.

As if the sliver of skin I’m showing is not nearly enough to quench his thirst.

His eyes move to mine, and when he flashes me a grin, I return it.

It’s the first real smile I’ve smiled this week.

“Hard time seeing?” I tease, and his eyes dance with mine.

“Yeah, my nana is in the way,” he calls out, lifting himself off the table. “Nana, see if you can get her to take her pants off.”

Hazel rolls her eyes before looking over at him. “If I have to get a girl to take off her pants for you, then you don’t deserve to see the goods.”

I grin. “Burned, pretty boy.”

Hazel laughs as she taps my hip. “You should let me add some insects, like bees and butterflies.”

Excitement builds in my chest. “I’d love that.”

“Let me design some ideas, and we’ll need to wait a month. With the way my hands are, I can only tattoo once a month.”

She holds out her tatted hands, staring down at them like she’s cursing them. I thread my fingers with hers. Her hands are soft, but I can feel the wrinkles, the knots in her joints. “I’d be honored to have your work on my skin.”

Hazel meets my gaze, love in her eyes as she squeezes my hands. “Such a sweet girl.” She lets go of my hands to turn to Jett. “She’ll be taking your next appointment.”

Jett shrugs. “No big deal. I can wait.”

She pats his chest and then starts to gather her things. Jett watches me, his eyes searching my face, and I look away. An awkward silence falls between us, and it’s suffocating. “Did you know we have a raccoon telenovela playing out in the dumpster out back?” I walk toward the window, where he’s now standing. He turns his body to look down at where I’m pointing.

His voice is full of amusement as he asks, “A raccoon telenovela?”

I nod eagerly, indicating to where I was just watching them outside of Grandpa’s office. I still haven’t begun to call it mine. “Oh yes. Look, that’s Sneaky Pete,” I say, pointing to the stealthiest-looking raccoon. “And that’s Lady Trashington and her husband Sir Trashington, but Sneaky Pete is trying to steal her away.”

“Naturally,” he agrees, and when I look up, a grin is playing on his face.

I smile more, my stress easing as I point to another one. “That’s Baron Von Dumpster, and I thought he was trying to get a piece of Lady Trashington, but then I saw him making eyes at a possum.”

“What did you name the possum?”

“Captain Rubbish,” I say, as if his name could be anything else.

“Of course,” he says, holding back his laughter. “So, this is what you do instead of working?”

“It’s quality entertainment.”

Now, he’s laughing. But not at me. Jett has never laughed at my expense. “If this is entertainment, princess, I’m failing you.”

My lips quirk up as I lean into him, bouncing off his hard arm. When the door clicks closed, we both look up to notice that Hazel has left without saying goodbye. I pull my gaze from the door to see Jett is watching me. As quickly as Hazel left, so does his lightheartedness. His brows are furrowed, and slowly, he crosses his arms over his chest. He leans into the window, watching me as I do the same. “Enough about the raccoon telenovela—what’s wrong?”

“How do you know something is wrong?” I say, needing more time to work up to admitting what I came to see him for.

“You know how. Now, tell me,” he demands, his voice rough. “Are you okay?”

I shrug. “Fine,” I mutter, threading my fingers together.

He surprises me when he hooks his pointer finger around mine. “Did something happen in your classes?”

I shake my head.

“A parent?”

“No, everything is great.” My classes are growing by the day. Sign-ups are going well, could be better, but the community is being a little standoffish. After Noelle suggested the reason is because I’ll be gone in a year, I have been trying really hard to recruit coaches who will stay. I need the money from the ads to offer signing bonuses. It’s been a process, but I feel after I go to Thistle Prep and Thistlebrook public schools, I’ll bring in more kids. Remembering that I need to do that next week has me remembering that I haven’t seen him at any of my classes this week. I flash him a dark look. “Not that you’ve been checking in.”

“Do you need me to check in?” he asks softly, and I swear I see a bit of hopefulness in his eyes.

“No, but it’s nice to see you outside of the office.”

His lips curve up. “Miss me, princess?”

I roll my eyes. “I miss you fixing my rink, pretty boy.”

Now, he’s grinning, and why does it feel like my world is spinning again? “Tell me what’s wrong.”

I curl my finger around his, squeezing it and then letting it go, only to do it again. “Things have been really tense at home, and I’m worried it’s weighing heavy on Kitty.”

Gone is his grin, replaced by concern. “What happened?”

I shrug. “You know how my parents are. One would think after twenty years of me being gone, they’d learn the error of their ways, but apparently, I’m such a problem.”

He shakes his head, his finger curling with mine. Does he realize he’s doing that? “That’s bullshit, Fable, and you know it. You’ve never been the problem—it’s them.”

I swallow thickly, willing my tears not to fall. “That’s what my therapist said, and I know you two are right. I tried to stick it out for Kitty, but I can’t stay there any longer.”

His eyes search mine, and then he nods. “So, move in here.”

While that’s what I want, I feel like he’s asking me to move in to his apartment. Blinking rapidly, because surely I’m overthinking this, I ask, “In one of the apartments next door?”

He must realize how his offer sounded because he nods, and once again, I’m rewarded with a sweet blush along his chiseled cheeks. “Yeah, of course. I didn’t mean here, here,” he laughs, and I force myself to laugh along. “Not like with me. That’s crazy.”

“Yeah, crazy,” I mutter, but it doesn’t sound that crazy, and his bed looks really comfortable.

“I can help if you want,” he says, and I pull my gaze from the bed to him.

I shake my head. “I didn’t move much stuff from Chicago. So, it’s no problem to bring everything in one trip.”

“Good. I think this is for the best. You shouldn’t be somewhere that doesn’t make you happy.”

“Yeah,” I agree, watching as I unhook and hook my finger with his. “I appreciate your willingness to help me.”

He waves me off with his free hand. “This place is half yours.”

“For a year,” I say, meeting his gaze.

Pain moves through his brown eyes, and I wish I hadn’t said that. “A year,” he repeats, exhaling. The motion draws my attention to his chest, and of course, I avidly take him in.

I push off the window and step toward him. He doesn’t move, standing still as I soak up every single stroke of Hazel’s tattoo gun. Hazel’s style is very traditional, bold lines and vibrant colors. He has a huge eagle holding a gun on his stomach. Butterflies. Hockey sticks and pucks. A furious lion adorns his chest, along with smaller things that I know mean something to him. The Ohio State University Buckeye. A tattoo gun. A cross-stitching needle and a gold medal. But what catches my eye is the small lettering along his Adonis belt.

When we were younger, he had very pronounced abs. But now, he has a bit of a belly, and I love it. Even so, his Adonis belt is prominent and sexy. Without thinking, I run my finger along the words, leaving him to take in a sharp breath.

Feels Like Forever.

My eyes cut up to his, and through my lashes, he looks stunning as he gazes down at me. Heat burns in his eyes, his lips part, and once more, my core throbs for him. I swallow hard as I ask, “Is this the song we skated to?”

He hesitates but then nods. “It’s to remind me of us.”

My breath hitches as I tip my head back, and oh my, am I giving him access to my lips? He’d have to bend down to me, but with how he’s hungrily looking at me, I don’t think I’d have to wait long. Breathlessly, I ask, “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Because.”

He doesn’t deny it, and while it thrills me, it makes me a bit sad. I pout before I ask, “Because why?”

He cups my jaw, dragging his thumb along my bottom lip, making me gasp. The movement is rough and leaves me wanting more. I press my mouth into his thumb, and his eyes flare with need. With his voice low and his eyes set only on me, he whispers, “Because I don’t know how much longer I can go without kissing you, and I know your parents don’t want that.”

My breath hitches, my heart pounding so hard in my ears it’s overstimulating me. Somehow I ask, “Why does it matter what they think?”

His eyes move quickly between both of mine, almost like he’s trying to make sure I mean what I say. “Because it always has.”

“Not anymore,” I promise. “It only matters what I think.”

He leans in a little closer, his breath warm against my parted lips. “And what do you think?”

“I think the last thing we need is distance.”

Jett nods slowly. “I agree.”

Boldly, I ask, “So, why are you still waiting?”

“I have no fucking clue.”

His eyes fall back to my lips just as his mouth descends to mine, and I’m fucking feral for his lips. It scares me how badly I want this, but I try to ignore it. I’m about to have my wildest fantasy come true, and I can’t ruin it.

Not that I have to, because the door flies open.

“Hey, JT—” I pull back just as he does, both our heads whipping to where Liam stands in his doorway. He gives us a sheepish look. “My bad, but, um, Phillip Winthrop’s lawyer is here to see you two.”

My brows come in tight, and when I look at Jett, he is mirroring my expression. He drops his hand from my face, and we both take a step apart. The loss of his touch rattles me, and it’s unnerving. Unsure what to do, I turn to Liam and plaster a wide smile on my face. I clap my hands and then bounce on my toes, but I have no clue what to say. I look back at Jett, and he sends me a charmed grin, shaking his head. He leans in, his lips by my ear. “Have I ever told you how fucking hot you make me when you get all flustered?”

Oh.

Oh my.

I pull back, my eyes widening just as my heart trips over itself at the boyish grin on his face. He rubs his thumb along his lip, the same thumb he had on mine, and everything turns to mush in my brain.

What the hell is he doing to me?