Jack sits back in his chair. “We both know I fucked things up with Tori. I was jealous—losing-my-mind jealous. I couldn’t see any sense. All I could see was her with you.”
“Even though we both told you it wasn’t like that with us?”
“I didn’t get it. Honestly, I think it’d still be hard for me if she and I would’ve worked things out. I’m admitting this to you because I want you to know I’m not pissed at you or trying to get you back for anything. I’m fucking jealous of you. I’ll probably always be jealous of you. But I’m not out to hurt you, and I damn sure wouldn’t want to use Kylie as a pawn in some stupid game.”
I gauge him, knowing none of that was easy for him to admit. I want to believe him, but it’s too hard.
“I’m asking you to trust me…like you once did,” he says. “Can you do that?” Robert and Catherine come back out carrying plated desserts. Catherine sets one in front of Jack. “This looks really good, thank you.”
I know Jack. He never eats sugar, but he’s going to eat that dessert so he doesn’t hurt Catherine’s feelings. Maybe he’s not the worst guy in the world.
When it’s time to go, everyone says their goodbyes, and Catherine and Robert walk us outside. Jack goes to the passenger side of his car and holds the door open for Kylie. She hesitates, giving me a hopeful look. I just stand there, not sure what to do, so she gets in the car with him.
24
Kylie
“Do you want me to take you to his place?” Jack asks.
I check my phone for a text from Brett, but there isn’t one. “No, I guess I’ve just got to give it time and see if he’ll come around.”
“He will.”
I glance over at Jack, leaned back in his driver’s seat. “I wish I shared your confidence.” I stare out the window, my stomach in knots from the whole evening. As we pull up in the parking lot of Jack’s condo, my phone dings. It’s a text from Brett.
Can I come get you?
I could float out of the seat I’m so relieved. I look over at Jack with a smile. “He came around.”
Jack rolls his eyes at me, but he’s smiling a little. He puts the car in reverse. “I’ll take you over there.”
When we pull up in front of Brett’s unit, he’s sitting on the front porch. But this time, he doesn’t go inside. He stands up, pocketing his hands, his shoulders rising and his chest getting bigger.
“Tell him he can stand down,” Jack says. “I’m getting my ass home.”
“Thank you, Jack,” I say, wanting to give him a hug or a kiss on the cheek but not daring to. I get out of the car, and with each step I take toward Brett, my heart beats faster.
“Hey,” he says, his face still hard to read.
“Hey,” I say. He opens the door and lets me inside. I stand in the living room, gripping my purse with both hands.
He closes the door behind him, then takes the purse from me and sets it on the dining room table. I clutch my hands together and then pull them apart, not knowing what to do with them. This stupid skirt I’m wearing doesn’t have pockets.
I glance around. “Is Val home?”
“No.”
“Mmm,” I utter, my insides warming at the idea of an empty house.
He moves toward me, putting his hands on my hips. “I’m sorry.”
I swallow. “For what? I’m the one who should be sorry.”
“I want to share things with you. I want to tell you the history.”
I nod, my heart swelling.
He pulls me closer to him. “But right now, I just want to be with you in my bed. You can call the shots like you did last time. Okay?”
I nod, the pressure swelling behind my eyes.
He smiles and wipes a tear away with his thumb. “Don’t cry.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry.”
He brings me into his chest, one arm around my back, the other on top of my head, as he strokes my hair. His body pressed against mine is like a seventy-degree day after a snowstorm. He pulls away from me and takes my hand, leading me to his bedroom.
He closes the door behind him and comes over to me. With a single finger, he moves a stray hair out of my face. “I don’t want to fight with you again.”
I grab two handfuls of his shirt and say, “Me either.” I’m afraid to look him in the eye for fear my whole body will melt like a lit candle.
He lifts my chin with his knuckle, and I’m forced to meet his gaze. He stares at me with those eyes that bring my body to life, and it’s more than my libido can take.
“I want this,” I say, my center so hot I could melt ice. “I want you.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “I’m positive.”
He kisses me, and I can barely stand up straight, my body having lost its ability to balance. I steady myself and pull away, focusing on undoing the buttons on his shirt. I smooth my hands over his shoulders as I slide the shirt down his arms. His tanned skin is so tempting I want to taste it. I trail kisses along his shoulder and his collarbone, my hands roaming down his strong back. When I come up for air, he slides his hands over my skirt and then grips my ass as he pulls me to him.
He walks us to the bed and rids me of my shirt before I collapse onto the mattress. He’s still standing, and I’m right there, so I undo his shorts and loop my thumbs through the waistband of his boxers. The way he looks down at me makes my whole body fizzy. I have to glance away, or I’m going to combust right here on his bed.
I slide his boxers and pants down to the
