“Sweetheart, I am far from perfect, and I have many flaws. One of them being the inability to leave you alone.”
“I don't want you to leave me alone.” I counter, far too quickly. He smiles and holds me tightly. I could die right now, in this very moment, and be perfectly content with it.
He holds me to him, my heart hammering out of my chest. In a rush to break the heat building within me I abruptly ask, “So what exactly do you do for a living?” He smiles, realizing what I'm doing, and releases his grip on me.
“I work with the club.”
“No, I mean what do you do to earn a living?”
“Please tell me you’re just pulling my chain, otherwise my pride may be seriously wounded if you haven’t heard of Jett Stewart.”
I can't help but laugh. “So what? You’re just you for a living? Somehow I doubt that.”
“I can’t tell you what we do. It’s against the rules.”
I should have known that, but it doesn’t stop me from trying. I think about Ella for a moment—do I want her getting wrapped up in this, in his life?
“It’s not all bad, you know.”
He takes my hand and pulls me to him. Leaning down, he gently kisses my forehead.
“I guess it’s not,” I say, half focused on what he’s saying, mostly focused on his lack of shirt. “So the movie,” I offer, hoping he won’t be offended. But until I tell him the truth about Ella, I can’t become more involved.
He takes the hint a little too quickly. “Ok, let me get another shirt on and we can get back to the movie.”
I sit down and grab the popcorn, hitting play. Jett comes back in a tank top and I can't even concentrate on the movie. Keeping my face forward, I find my eyes constantly looking over at him. I see him smile out of the corner of my eye and I know I've b
een caught. “Screw it,” I say, facing him.
“What?” he asks.
“You're just too damn hot in that shirt that I can't even keep my eyes on the movie.”
His eyes grow wide and he fights the smile on his lips. “And the truth finally comes out. I knew I was more than just cute,” he says with a smirk.
Smacking his arm, I can't help but grin like an idiot. Jett puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me as close to him as he can. Lifting my head up, I softly kiss his neck and he sighs.
“Are you trying to make me crazy, because if so, you are succeeding.” Pulling me onto his lap, he brings his forehead to mine, his lips only centimeters from mine. My heart hammers in my chest and my cheeks begin to blush. “What is it about you?” he whispers.
I smile because I feel the same way. In the past few weeks, I've grown to feel something a bit more than like towards him. It could be love, but I don't feel like I'm ready to admit that. “I know what you mean. Jett, I really like you and you’ve been nothing short of a miracle to me, but I'm damaged. I don't know what to feel or how to say what's on my mind.”
Placing his hand behind my neck, he leans. When his lips touch mine, I melt. Everything in the world disappears and he is all I can see. “I happened to do damaged very well.” I pull back, breathless, unable to speak or move, any sense of direction or purpose gone.
In a daze I kiss him again, running my fingers through his hair. One lighter kiss and I pull away, looking at him and smiling. “I think I should go to sleep in my room,” I say, trying to stand up.
“Please don't. I'll behave myself. I promise,” he says. “I'll even go put on another shirt.”
Standing there looking up at him, I try not to laugh. “Only if you behave,” I say.
“Of course.” He gets up to go get another shirt.
After a few minutes Jett comes back out with an Tennessee Hawks sweatshirt on. “Nice,” I say, patting the couch beside me.
“Can we please watch something else?” he asks.
Raising my eyebrows, I ask, “What do you have in mind?” He smiles, gets up, and goes over to the movie cabinet. He pulls out a movie, careful to hide the title from me, and puts it in.
“What movie is this?” I ask when he hits play.