Jett circles me one time around the second-floor perimeter. Because the song is still cranking, we move past our table to take another loop.
His grip on me is light—one at my waist, the other on my shoulder. I’ve two-stepped a lot in my life. I can’t even count the number of honky-tonk bars I’ve visited in my travels. I’m surprised Jett is so adept, but I’m thinking he must spend a lot of time here dancing with girls.
“Mollie,” he says as he spins me until I’m the one dancing backward, “any chance you’d let me take you out to dinner?”
While I haven’t talked about my plans with Kane yet, his open-ended offer to let me stay with him appeals to me. I’m not ready to go home to my parents with my tail between my legs. My mom will just be overbearing in her worry, and I’m sure as shit not ready to get back on the road again. I want to stay here for a while—sort of have a vacation where I have no obligations or worries.
As such, I don’t have any doubts with answering, “I’d love that. Sounds fun.”
“Will your watchdog let you out?” he asks with a mischievous grin, jerking his chin in the direction of our table to point out Kane.
“Kane is my friend, not my watchdog. Plus, he has no say in what I do.”
“But he’s still protective of you,” he points out.
And sure… of course he is. Kane was like that all through college. He’s like that when we go out, even as adults set in our careers. He watches over me.
“Doesn’t he trust you?” I query.
“I should hope so,” he replies.
“Then, let’s not worry about it.” I smile, charmed at scoring a date with this very cute Swede. I resolve to have fun while in Phoenix.
And if Kane has a problem with it, then we’ll just have to talk it through like we usually do.
“Tomorrow night?” Jett proposes, apparently not wanting to waste the opportunity.
“Sure,” I reply easily. It’s not like I have any formal plans from this point forward.CHAPTER 6KaneUntil this moment, I never knew how small my downtown apartment is. It’s touted as being spacious, but when I’m pacing back and forth with long legs, the fact that it takes me five strides to reach end to end tells me it’s not enough room. Perhaps I should consider buying a house.
I glance down at my watch. 11:53 PM. There’s no way in hell Mollie shouldn’t be back from her date with Jett by now.
After all, she said they were just going out to dinner.
Jett had picked her up at six-thirty for reservations at seven. By my mental calculations, even a two-hour dinner means they should have been back long before now.
I could call her to find out what’s taking so long. That would be bananas, at least as far as Mollie would think. I’m not her keeper, and I know very well that I have no say-so in what Mollie does in her personal life.
I could send a casual text. Something along the lines of, “Hey… I was thinking of making a late-night banana sundae. If you were going to be home soon, I could make you one as well.”
That was casual. The fact I’m talking about ice cream makes it an effective way to offhandedly ask when she’ll be coming home. We have melting to consider.
While I hold no ill feelings toward Mollie, I’m pissed as hell Jett even asked her out. I’d wanted to call him on it as soon as I found out about their plans. We were actually on the way home from The Sneaky Saguaro when she just happened to mention, “Oh, by the way, Jett’s taking me out for dinner tomorrow night.”
Mollie didn’t even ask if it was all right. She also didn’t stop to think if I might object.
Okay, well… She shouldn’t have to do either of those things. Frankly, my opinion doesn’t matter.
Except to me, apparently.
And I have no fucking clue why I am so bent out of shape. Sure, Jett is an absolute playboy who has banged a lot of chicks. But when it comes right down to it, I trust him. As my teammate and friend, I believe he will be respectful of Mollie. He would never do anything to cross a boundary she wouldn’t be amenable to. So that can’t be my objection.
Unless Mollie is amenable to him crossing that boundary.
They could be at Jett’s place right now having sex for all I know.
And that’s the thought that makes me want to punch my fist right through the drywall. My anger at Jett gets renewed because he’s easier to blame than Mollie. He should know better than to ask my best friend out. It’s like going after a best friend’s little sister, except, well… Mollie isn’t my sister. She’s a friend.