Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Why would you ever think Jett would hurt you?” she asks.
“I didn’t think Shane ever would,” I mutter, because I can’t give her one solid reason Jett has given me to think that. I’m operating solely on past hurts.
Jenna makes a sound deep in her throat that had it come out her mouth, might have been the word “bullshit”. Instead, she says, “Shane and Jett are nothing alike and you know that. Shane has a drug problem, and not that it’s an excuse, that is also an illness that prevents him from being responsible and holding commitments. That is nothing like Jett.”
My sweet, strong sister is speaking the truth, and it’s something I’ve told myself over and over again the last two days as I’ve been fighting feelings of fear and a sense of impending doom. Shane triggered all of this, I know. Just as I know it’s something I have to reason my way through.
As if he knew he might be the subject of discussion, my phone starts ringing and I see Jett’s name pop up on my screen. He’s probably at the arena in Los Angeles, well into pre-game prep, but his call doesn’t surprise me. He has always managed to reach out just for a quick hello at some point before a game starts. He does it to give me the opportunity to wish him luck, knowing I’ll never be the one to call him because I don’t want to disturb him. I told him that before, and since then, he calls me so I know he’s got the time for a quick chat.
“Hey, you,” I say as I answer the phone, making my tone light and flirty. I don’t want him to hear anything in my voice that will clue him in to me and Jenna having a serious conversation about my doubts and fears.
“Just calling to check in real quick,” he says, which is code for I have time for you, Emory. I want you to know that I’m thinking of you just before I step out onto the ice. Damn him for that snagging of my heart as well. “What did you do today?”
I give him the quick rundown, ending with, “And now I’m eating pizza and drinking beer with Jenna. We’re settled in to watch the game.”
“And Miss Felicity?” he inquires.
Which is code for, How is she doing in the bright light of the day after her father bailed on her?
“She’s more than fine,” I say softly. “She had the best time with you last night and she’s having a sleepover at a friend’s house tonight.”
Jett is silent for a moment as he processes this, but he doesn’t say what we’re both thinking.
Last night still had some type of negative effect on Felicity, we just don’t yet know the damage Shane inflicted.
“Heard anything from the douchebag?” Jett grumbles in a low voice.
“Not a word.”
Another long pause, before he asks, and the tenderness in his voice almost makes me cry, “And you… how are you really doing?”
I blink my eyes hard, perfectly aware that Jenna is listening, and while I normally don’t hold anything back from my sister, it’s Jett who has captured my attention right now.
“I’m overwhelmed,” I answer truthfully, but I keep my voice strong so he doesn’t worry.
“It’s more than that,” he says, which means he knows I’m not being one hundred percent truthful.
“It’s nothing,” I assure him. I don’t want his head to be on anything but the game before him.
“It’s something and I’m not hanging up until you spill it,” he replies, and despite the fact my heart is hammering and my insides are jumbled up, I smile.
Sighing, I tell him the full truth. “I feel fragile, and that’s hard for me to admit.”
“Because you’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever known,” he says, a reminder to me to not forget that.
“I appreciate that.” I am really, really grateful Jett is the type to keep me grounded. “But I feel like paper that’s being pulled and twisted, ready to tear at any minute.”
He doesn’t tell me that’s ludicrous. He doesn’t reiterate that I’m a woman with a spine of steel. He doesn’t even try to get me to minimize my feelings in any way.
Instead he says, “Then let me be that layer of cardboard behind you.”
I’m struck by a wave of giddy joy over his bold proclamation of commitment, and hilarity over his analogy, that I can’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry. I just had this image of one of those life-size cardboard cutouts people have of their favorite celebrity.”
“They actually sell those of me,” Jett says, joining me in the humor. “I’ll buy one for you.”
“Okay,” I reply, my laughter fizzling.
“I have to go,” he says brusquely.
“Play great tonight. I bet you’ll hear me cheering all the way in L.A.”