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Jet (Marked Men #2) - Page 28/48

She sighed and kissed my breastbone. “I couldn’t even care about her, Jet, and I don’t think you would be able to help it.”

I wanted to tell her none of it mattered. I wanted to tell her how important she was to me. That no one besides Uncle Phil and the guys had ever taken care of me before, and that I didn’t know what to do with her worrying about me. I felt like that was huge enough to make me think that I could possibly fall in love with her and want to hold on to her forever.

I wanted to tell her I couldn’t see a place in my life or in my bed for anyone but her now, and that she made me feel that every love song I had ever written or sung made no sense until she came into the picture. But I didn’t, because I knew she wasn’t ready to hear it, and I wasn’t sure what it meant to me that I was feeling it.

Just like my melting time, I was going to hold on to her for as long as I could, until the fire got too hot and burned me alive from the inside out, and she would have no choice but to watch it smolder.

Chapter 11

Thursday night was girls’ night and had been ever since Shaw, Cora, and I had shared the house. Some nights we just got together with a bottle of wine and watched sappy movies, some nights we got all dolled up and went to a club, and then there were nights like tonight when we all just wanted to forget about whatever it was that had been crawling all over us during the week.

We went out with the sole intent of ending up destroyed and sloppy. I had learned my lesson long ago and no longer took an early class on Friday morning, because nights like this led to terrible morning-afters, and I wasn’t stupid.

Shaw had picked a dive bar off Thirteenth Street that was pretty close to where she lived on the Hill. Cora and I took a cab, because it was clear that tonight wasn’t going to be pretty and we both knew there was no way either of us was going to be in any shape to drive by the time the party was over. We started with a pitcher of beer, and I blamed the boys. There had been a time when we would have started with wine or margaritas, but after spending so much time with the guys, I think it was just ingrained that we now started with a cold pitcher of Coors Light. One pitcher led to two, and by the time the third one hit the table, Shaw was ready to add shots to the mix. I was a tequila girl, Shaw liked whiskey, and Cora stuck with Jäger. It didn’t take long for the conversation to devolve to ridiculous topics and for our laughter to get loud and obnoxious.

Cora’s two-toned eyes were huge and Shaw had a hand over her mouth to hold her laughter in. I was just staring at her because in typical Cora fashion she was explaining to us how she never could understand how the three of us could be friends, considering she had up-close and personal knowledge of our boys’ junk. I lifted an eyebrow at her.

“All of them?”

She licked her lips and tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Have you seen all of them?”

Shaw gasped on a laugh and pushed my shoulder. “Don’t ask her that.”

“Why not?”

“There has to be some kind of privilege.”

I rolled my eyes. “She’s a body piercer, not a doctor, and I’m curious.”

Cora gave me a naughty grin, and while I had to admit I was super happy she was the one who had put that ring in Jet and not some strange skank, it was still weird to imagine her with her hands anywhere near that part of him.

She ordered us another round and motioned for us to lean in close. Shaw might have protested on principle, but I knew that gleam in her green gaze and she was just as curious as I was.

“All of them. Well, all of them except the big brother. I’ve only met him once, and I could tell he was way too uptight and totally not into that kind of thing. Rule has the most hardware, Rowdy has the second most, and Jet and Nash have the same amount. And let me tell you, it is no easy feat to shove a metal needle through the privates of dudes you consider your best friends. I thought Rowdy was going to faint, and Nash took a swing at me.”

I had to fan myself a little with a cocktail napkin. Not too long ago, the idea of being with someone who had tattoos all over and jewelry in their privates would have made me laugh. Now I knew how hot it was, knew that no one would ever be able to do what Jet could do. There was no going back to boring and plain, and I saw by the dreamy look on Shaw’s face that it was the same for her.

I tossed back the Patrón and lifted the tiny glass in a salute to Cora. “Well, on behalf of the female population of Denver, I salute you and offer you our undying gratitude. Good work, Cora.”

That made them laugh, but Shaw nodded her agreement. “Yep, thanks.”

“You ladies are very welcome. You know, I had to do something to help those idiots out. It’s not like they would ever find good chicks with their personalities alone. They’re awful.”

Shaw snorted because it was no secret that Rule could be a real ass when he put his mind to it, but I just shook my head.

“Jet doesn’t need it. His personality is fine. He’s wonderful.”

That had both their heads swiveling in my direction and had I been sober I would have never opened that door for them. Shaw turned her bright eyes in my direction.

“So, what’s the deal with all that anyway?”

I wish I knew. “No deal. We’re friends, we like to hang out, and I care about him, a lot. We’re just being together, nothing more, nothing less.”

Only that was a big fat lie. There was entirely more. Jet had been moodier and more withdrawn since his trip to lockup. I knew part of it was his struggle to come to terms with his mom, but something else was going on that had him acting secretive and shady. Every time I walked in the room and he was on the phone, he hung up. He was spending a ton of time at the studio, and it seemed like the band was demanding way more of his time than it had since I met him. From what I could piece together, it sounded like he was planning on going back on the road and I couldn’t figure out why he didn’t just tell me that. It wasn’t like I had any place to weigh in on it, but still, it would be nice to know how long he was planning on being gone. As much as I hated to admit it, the idea of sleeping alone while he was on the road made me feel sick to my stomach.

He also hadn’t mentioned a thing about court. He had hired a lawyer and they had pushed the court date back a couple of weeks. I knew he was worried about how the judge’s ruling would affect his time, but he didn’t seem too concerned about the actual sentencing. I guess he figured he would get a slap on the wrist and some community service, but it concerned me that he never brought it up, or that he didn’t once mention his mom and dad in the scenario. I knew he was grappling with some pretty heavy stuff and I wanted to be there for him, but he didn’t seem inclined to let me.

“Did he talk to you about why he got arrested?”

I nodded. I knew Rule had the ins and outs of the real reason, but Jet was telling most people he got into a fight, so I didn’t feel like it was my place to explain his family dynamics to her.

“He did. It wasn’t his fault.”

She shook her head and her white-blond hair cascaded around her, drawing the attention of the guys at the table across the bar. They had been casting questioning looks our way the entire night. I normally wasn’t above using a well-placed smile to score a free round or two, but now, with a certain rocker in the picture, that just didn’t seem right.

“It’s never their fault, believe me. I’ve heard Rule say that over and over again.”

Cora rolled her expressive eyes and leaned back in her chair. “That’s because those boys scream sex and sin and a whole lot of fun, and no one ever holds them responsible for being a bunch of jackasses most of the time.”

“This time the jackassary really wasn’t Jet’s fault. He was a victim of circumstance.”

She turned to look at me and I tried really hard not to squirm.

“I can hear him sing to you at night, you know.”

I felt heat flood into my face. I really wanted to change the subject, but I knew that probably wasn’t going to be an option. I tried to shrug nonchalantly.

“He has a beautiful voice.”

“Yes, he does, but he never used it like that before you started sleeping in his room.”

I rested a hand on my throat and refused to meet her gaze. “You know, one of these days you’re going to stumble into a guy who’s going to knock you sideways, and it’s going to be our turn to be all up in your face with the annoying and obvious.”

Shaw lifted both her eyebrows and nodded. “Oh boy, I so can’t wait for that.”

Cora fluttered one of her small hands in the air in front of her. “You won’t have to point anything out to me because I’m holding out for perfection.”

Shaw and I shared a look and then both of us gaped at her. Shaw was the one who sputtered, “You have to be kidding me.”

Cora shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

“There is no such thing as perfect, Cora. Look at Adam. Good-looking, sweet as could be, amazing future all lined up in front of him, not to mention we had tons in common and I actually really enjoyed his company. None of that matters, because he didn’t do a goddamn thing for me, and all Jet has to do is look at me, grin a little tiny bit, and I’m ready to jump him and combust on impact.”

Shaw nodded vigorously. “My version of perfect tried to beat me within an inch of my life and rape me. There is no such thing, girl. You’re only going to be disappointed.”

She waved us off and reached for her beer. “Jimmy broke my heart, smashed it into a hundred million little pieces. I never knew anything could hurt that bad until I found him with that girl. I’m never going through that again. I’m holding out for the guy who is perfect—no issues, no drama, and no history of emotional unavailability or instability. There has to be someone out there who just fits the bill.”

She pointed a finger at me. “And Adam wore sweater vests, so clearly he wasn’t right for you.” She aimed the same finger at Shaw. “And you were in love with Rule forever, so even if everyone else thought crazy-pants was perfect, you always knew deep down inside that Rule was really the only one for you.”

That made both of us lapse into silence, so I just sighed. “Cora, we love you, and yes, you are annoyingly right most of the time, but I just think in this case you are setting the standard too high.”

She muttered something I didn’t hear and tried to lighten the conversation by pointing out, “It’s not like most guys are going to pass muster with the Terrible Trio anyway. They’re a hundred times worse than a dad with a shotgun.”

We all burst into raucous laughter that had Shaw wiping tears out her eyes. “Aaw. The big bad tattoo artists just love their little pixie.”

Cora scowled and threw a damp cocktail napkin at her, which had Shaw in turn flick her straw wrapper at her. Since we were morphing into kindergartners, I decided it was time to take a trip to the restroom. We had opted for the dive bar, so I had on my cowboy boots and a denim skirt with a tight black T-shirt that had the Jack Daniel’s logo on it on. It was cute, but low-key, and I was glad I wasn’t trying to navigate between tables and chairs in heels, considering I was wobbly at best.



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