“Shit,” he says and begins to get dressed. “I’ll come with you.”
“What?”
“I’ll organise for someone to pick her up and take her to the hospital so you don’t have to worry about it. You can just take care of her while I sort this out for you.”
Mind blown.
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I murmur, surprised at his offer. I’m more surprised at the way he’s handling this, though. If I’d stopped mid blow job with my ex to run off and check on a twisted ankle, he’d have been pissed and wouldn’t have hesitated to let me know.
“No worries.”
We get dressed and then head to Darla’s room. As we wait for her to answer her door, I say, “Sorry about this.”
He grins. “It’s all good, but you owe me and I’ll be collecting.”
Hell yes. I return his grin. “I like the way you think.”
Before he can say anything else, Darla answers the door and I take in her distressed state. Mascara is running down her cheeks, along with tears. Darla never cries so I know this is bad. I take one look at her ankle and suspect she’s broken it. “Shit, Darla, that looks nasty.” I usher her to a chair and then dial down to the front desk and request for ice to be brought up to her room.
I’m so engrossed in helping her, I forget to introduce Jett so he does it for me. “Hi, I’m Jett.”
She smiles through her tears. “Goddamn, you scored well,” she says to me with a wink.
Jett laughs, not even slightly thrown by her remark. I get the feeling he’s heard this before. “It’s good to - ”
Darla cuts him off. Her eyes have widened and she looks like she’s about to hyperventilate. “Oh my god, you’re Jett fucking Vaughn!”
“Who?” I ask, taking in her excitement and his blank look.
She’s excited, but the pain has taken over again, and she can’t answer me, so I look at Jett who is watching me with another look I can’t read. Usually I’m good at reading people, but this is the second time tonight I’ve not been able to read him.
He scrubs a hand over his face. “You didn’t know, did you?”
My brows knit. “Know what? I have no idea what either of you are talking about.”
“Fuck,” he mutters.
“Are you going to tell me?” I ask, wishing one of them would fill me in.
Darla’s pain subsides enough for her to answer me. “He’s the lead singer of Crave.” That means nothing to me, and when she realises that, she exclaims, “God, Presley, how can you not know who Crave is? They’re one of the best known rock bands in the world. You of all people should know who they are.”
Jett steps in. “Not everyone has heard of us, Darla. I do occasionally find someone who doesn’t know me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Well, now you’re just being humble. Everyone knows who you are.” She gives me a pointed stare. “Except Presley which is odd because - ”
I cut her off. “I don’t know every rock star in the world.” I give her a dirty look and then look at Jett. “Sorry.”
He shakes his head. “No, I loved that you didn’t know.”
I send him a wicked grin. “I’m not into rock stars so we can just pretend I don’t know.”
He chuckles. “You’re on.” And then his phone rings and he turns away to take the call.
Turning my attention back to Darla, I bend down and ask, “How are you feeling, hon?”
Her face is etched with pain. “I’ve never been in so much pain. Do you think it’s broken?”
“I have no clue. Jett’s organising a car to come pick you up and take you to