Jett Read online

  As it turns out, Jim’s wife, Ella, sent out word through the grapevine that their thirteen-year-old daughter, Lucy, wanted to get some babysitting experience, under her mother’s watchful eye, to start out.

  I had to convince Jenna to come out with me. That wasn’t easy to do but after much begging and pleading, I got her reluctant agreement.

  A phone call to Ella and babysitting arrangements were made. Ella volunteered to come to my house with Lucy and stay the entire time, since this was Lucy’s first time and she was a little nervous. But ultimately, they invited Felicity to come to their house and have a slumber party of sorts with Lucy, to make it fun for both of them, meeting for the first time. Felicity, who is forever my adventurer and social butterfly, was beyond excited to have a big girl sleepover away from our house.

  “Jenna,” I yell from the master bath, knowing my voice will carry through to the hallway and guest bathroom not too far away. Last I saw she was putting waves in her hair with a round iron. “You ready?”

  No answer so I don’t bother calling again. I check my lip gloss, turn my head side to side to make sure my makeup passes muster, and put on a spritz of my favorite perfume. We didn’t go to the game tonight, but we did watch most of it on TV until it was time to get ready to go.

  I wanted to be there to watch Jett in person, but I have to be frugal as to which games I go to. As a single mom, I simply can’t afford to buy those pricey tickets often, even given my employee discount.

  As much as I love the Vengeance, the point of this evening is to hang out with Jett and the team at their favorite bar and start integrating into this family dynamic that’s been fostered by the owner.

  I flip off the bathroom light, grab my purse off the dresser and exit my room. I find Jenna in the bathroom as I had anticipated, but she’s just staring at herself in the mirror, much the way I had just been doing.

  Except I didn’t have that expression.

  One of anxiety and doubt.

  “Oh no you don’t,” I say, moving in quickly beside her. I loop my arm over her shoulder and grab her gaze in the mirror. “You are not going to start doubting yourself.”

  “It’s not myself I doubt,” she mutters. “But the humanity of others.”

  My stomach clenches from the pain in her voice. If all of the pain and suffering she’s been through from her burns isn’t bad enough, she’s had to endure stares of pity and disgust. She’s had people whisper about her, refuse to make eye contact, and even abandon her.

  If anyone has reason to mistrust, it’s her.

  But she has to keep confronting the hard to get to the good. I believe there are far more people out there who will accept her—scars and all—than those who don’t.

  I need her to see it for herself, so I will never stop pushing her.

  “You’re coming with me tonight and I’m not going to hear another word about it,” I say fiercely.

  “Why?” she demands, a spark of fight in her eyes.

  “Because you need to open yourself up,” I explain, squeezing her shoulder in encouragement. “You need to take chances and risks. Stop hiding behind your fears.”

  Unease fills my veins as I see triumph flash across her expression. “So it’s okay for me to have to open myself up and take chances, but those same ideals don’t apply to you?”

  My face flushes hot and Jenna snickers. “It’s not the same.”

  “It’s completely the same.” She all-out laughs at me now, but not in a mean-spirited way. “You want me to put myself out there? Fine. I want you to put yourself out there with Jett.”

  “There is nothing wrong with us doing casual,” I say primly.

  “I agree,” she drawls, turning to face me. “Except you like him more than just for casual sex.”

  “And you know this how?” I ask suspiciously.

  Jenna rolls her eyes. “You have about a hundred tells but it’s the way you talk about him, the glimmer in your eye, the eagerness with which I saw you watching the clock tonight, and the ferocity by which you’ve harassed me to come with you tonight because you’re too afraid to be alone with him in a public setting.”

  Before I can even shoot down her theory, she adds, “Besides… if it was just sex, you wouldn’t have agreed to go to The Sneaky Saguaro and would have just gone to his condo.”

  Hmmm. She’s not wrong.

  She’s not entirely right either.

  Regardless, I see this as an opportunity because no matter what she’s said, I’m going to The Sneaky Saguaro with or without her since I accepted Jett’s offer. I am not beyond using the leverage on her.

  “Okay,” I say, my mind spinning with calculation. “You come with me tonight and put yourself out there to make new friends. And I’ll open myself up to the possibility—”

  Jenna’s eyes glimmer with satisfaction.

  “I said ‘possibility’,” I reiterate firmly. “Of something more than just casual with Jett.”

  “Deal,” she says, a little too fast for my benefit. I feel like I’ve been hoodwinked, but I’m not too worried about it. Opening myself up to Jett is purely subjective. I don’t have to do anything with him I’m not comfortable with.

  I’m not going to lie, the possibility of something more with Jett is intriguing because every day that goes by—whether we’re having sex or just talking—I find myself liking him more and more.

  ♦

  I’ve been living in Phoenix just over a month and there is so much to explore and try.

  The Sneaky Saguaro, however, is not unknown to me. Before I even knew it was the preferred hangout of the Arizona Vengeance, Jenna, Felicity, and I had lunch here one day. It’s a fun atmosphere with a behemoth saguaro cactus rising up through the middle of the restaurant, straight up to the second-floor landing.

  It’s a different vibe at night though. Gone are the families with kids gorging on platters of tacos and bowls of queso. Filled now with adults, mostly Vengeance fans, wearing their jerseys or clothing in the signature green, blue and silver team colors. You’ve got the married couples who are out on their date night to cheer on their favorite hockey team, groups of rowdy guys drunk on victory and sports, the puck bunnies—a term that I actually learned from Jett in one of our “after sex talks” about hockey—dressed scantily and looking to hook up with a team player or another handsome dude who shares a passion for the sport.

  It’s festive and the mood is alive with energy, which would be a given considering the Vengeance won over the New York Phantoms tonight.

  Jett was exactly where he said he’d be, on the second floor to the left of the staircase. The area is roped-off by the restaurant management and encompasses about seven tables reserved for players and their guests. The entire team doesn’t come out to celebrate every time, but all seven tables are filled when we arrive and there are several more people standing around talking and laughing. Fans wait outside the roped-off area for players to take photos or sign autographs. If you’re a lucky puck bunny who catches the eye of one of the single players, you will be brought inside the velvet ropes and made part of the team for the night.

  I find it both amusing and sad at the same time for those women, but I think it’s mainly because I can’t understand it. My wild fun phase in college lasted barely a year before I settled down, and I can’t envision myself wearing skin-baring clothing to a hockey game and then trying to sleep with one of the players.

  Jett met us when we came up the stairs and brought us into the inner circle. Of course, I know all of the players, having met each one on at least one occasion to discuss social media, and have since seen several of them around either while working out or when they’re visiting the executive offices for some reason.

  While I met some of the family members at the Fan Day carnival, there are several here who Jett proceeds to introduce Jenna and I to. When that’s handled, we settle in at a standing table with Jett’s second line teammates who are all present, except for Riggs. He’s a prickly one, and we’ve b
een battling over his lack of interest in social media. I pester him relentlessly, and he probably hates me, but Jett has told me he’s been pretty antisocial since joining the team. Kane and his fiancée Mollie are here, Jim is solo since Ella and Lucy are watching my kid, and Bain, who is as single as Jett and currently eyeballing the selection of puck bunnies on the other side of the rope.

  In addition to the second line guys, also standing in the vicinity are Bishop and his wife, Brooke. She happens to not only be Coach Perron’s daughter, but she got promoted to the Director of Team Services last year, so she and I see each other frequently during the workday. I get the chance to meet Wylde’s girlfriend, Clarke, and Tacker is there with his wife, Nora. Once all the introductions are made, the women congregate with each other, but Jenna and I don’t know them all that well. However, Jett doesn’t give us a chance to break off.

  He’s the one who invited me—and I invited Jenna who he was more than happy I was bringing tonight—and he plasters himself to us, intermittently buying us drinks and making more introductions to other players’ wives and girlfriends.

  Jenna and I took an Uber here and she’ll take one home. I’ll leave with Jett and he’ll bring me home in the morning. With our rides safely in hand, Jenna and I decide to let our hair down and not worry about our alcohol intake. By the time we’re ordering our third beers, we’re both laughing along with Jett and crew and having a good time. I’m sure it’s the alcohol but Jenna doesn’t seem as self-conscious and has stopped tugging her hair to hide her scars. Not one person has taken any overt notice of them, although they are readily apparent. Everyone here is polite and not making a big deal out of it, and she’s definitely not getting the looks of pity that she had dreaded. In fact, most everyone is outgoing and inclusive and I’m really starting to understand the family vibe that runs heavy within this team.

  Jett stays by my side, but he makes no effort to slip in some PDA. While I appreciate this, I also have to admit I like him by my side, because his attention is mostly on me and mine is mostly on him.

  As Jenna is talking to Nora who has sidled over our way, Jett leans down and whispers, “Any thoughts as to when we should leave?”

  I don’t turn to look at him but manage to reply out of the side of my mouth. “I wouldn’t be averse to that being soon. Our time together is limited.”

  Because I have to go home in the morning and we’re nearing midnight as it is.

  “After this beer,” he says, the waitress having just handed out the last round. “We’ll make sure Jenna gets in her Uber and head out.”

  I turn slightly to look at him, smiling my agreement but not putting anything extra into it lest someone be watching our interaction closely. Instead, I hold my pint glass out to his and we tap them together in silent agreement of this plan.

  Jenna moves over to join us, and Jett asks her, “Having fun?”

  “I am,” she answers easily, and the sparkle in her eye is from the beer, but that’s fine by me. Fun is fun. “Thanks for inviting us.”

  “Open invitation to both of you,” he assures her. “And maybe the next weekend afternoon game we have, you can bring Felicity here too. It’s a lot more family-friendly during day games. A lot of kids here.”

  Jenna’s eyes cut to me and I get a knowing smirk. It says, He’s interested in more. Why aren’t you?

  I change the subject, and since Jenna and I are new to the area, we ask Jett for other restaurant recommendations. I know Jett to be a not-so-good cook from personal experience, so it’s no surprise when he launches into a long list of places to eat, from fast food to fancy.

  “There’s a deli in Vengeance Town called Golby’s and they have the best sandwiches you can imagine. They even sell hiking baskets you can take on a hiking day trip complete with sandwiches, chips, and drinks in a cute little drawstring thermal pack.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Jenna says, and then moves her eyes to me. “We should all do that sometime. Me, you, Jett, and Felicity go on a hike.”

  “I’m in,” Jett replies with a good-natured smile, his tone friendly should anyone be paying too close attention. He has no clue that Jenna is trying her best to push us toward something more than meaningless sex.

  I’m wise to her ways and I don’t jump on the idea.

  Jenna apparently is not forgetting my promise to try to open up to him in exchange for her coming out with us tonight. She stares at me pointedly until I’m forced to say, “Yeah… that sounds like fun.”

  We lapse into a discussion of some of the hiking Jett has done in the area, which is interesting because Jenna and I liked to hike when we lived in California. It’s something all of us have in common but we’ll have to choose some easy paths for Felicity.

  Eventually, our beers dwindle, and Jett gives me a pointed look. He’s ready to go and start the evening between just the two of us.

  I’m ready for that too.

  Jenna and I make our farewells to the people we met and those we already knew. We give promises to come hang with the team again, and Clarke asks us to come see her at her bookstore, which I’m looking forward to.

  Jett announces he’s going to walk us out and ensure we get an Uber safely. Of course, he has no intention of returning, and I know his linemates will figure out what’s going on. I doubt we’ll remain a secret for long, but I’m not rushing to out ourselves.

  Jett motions for Jenna to go down the stairs first, then me, and he follows behind us. We weave our way through the crowd, which is still shoulder to shoulder despite the late hour.

  We almost make it to the front door that leads to the parking lot when we maneuver past two women and a man standing there drinking beers. They’re young, early twenties, and dressed in Vengeance jerseys.

  Jenna moves past them first and as I’m almost past, I hear one of the girls say, “Oh my God… did you see the scars on her face?”

  It’s said with the pity that Jenna hates so much, and I feel my entire body lock tight.

  The man with them responds, “So fucking gross. How does she even show her face in public?”

  I have no clue if Jenna hears, as she has made it by them. She moves fluidly with no tension, so I’m thinking not.

  I should keep going and let it go, but the fury that’s pulsing through me has me stopping in my tracks.

  Slowly, I turn their way, intent on laying into the group. There’s a flash of movement and Jett’s not behind me anymore, but rather toe to toe with the guy.

  And his big hand is around the guy’s throat, squeezing hard enough the guy’s face flushes red.

  My head whips toward Jenna, but she’s gone… out the door. I look back to Jett, knowing I should pull him off because he could get in trouble, yet having no desire to save the guy.

  With just the power of his grip, he pulls his captive in closer to him and snarls, “You fucking douche. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t pound you into the floor.”

  One of the women—not sure if she’s the one who made the original comment—grabs ahold of Jett’s arm and attempts to pull him off the man. He’s like stone and doesn’t budge a fraction of an inch, except his head turns her way. Jett’s eyes are ice-cold as he looks at her and the other woman. “You are pathetic excuses for human beings.”

  My jaw drops slightly, not by his defense of Jenna. I know that’s the kind of guy Jett is, but because he is intensely furious over the inherent unkindness these people displayed.

  Without warning, he releases the guy who grabs onto his throat and wheezes. Jett merely says, “After tonight, I don’t ever want to see you three in this place again.”

  And with that, he turns from them, takes my hand, and leads me toward the door.

  Except I dig my heels in and stop, forcing him to look at me.

  Without thought to the repercussions or the fact that I’m going against my own rule to keep our relationship a secret, I fling my arms around his neck and kiss him hard on the mouth.

  Because that was without
a doubt the sexiest, hottest, and sweetest thing I have ever seen.

  The kiss ends before he can return it, but I take delight in the surprised look in his eyes.

  Spinning from him, I hurry toward the door. When we exit, we find Jenna waiting there, head bent over her phone ordering an Uber. She looks up at us with a smile. “I was wondering where you two went.”

  I let out a pent-up sigh of relief.

  She didn’t hear what was said, and I’m so incredibly grateful that my legs feel a bit like jelly.

  “I’ve got the Uber ordered,” she says cheerfully. “You two can go if you want. It’s safe here by myself.”

  “We’ll wait with you,” Jett replies, glancing back toward the door.

  The message is clear.

  He’s become Jenna’s protector and my heart just got snagged a little in the process.

  CHAPTER 13

  Jett

  I’m not sure what’s changed since leaving The Sneaky Saguaro but the undertones of sexual tension between Emory and me have seemingly fizzled.

  Not in a bad way.

  Not in an awkward way that says either one of us have changed our minds about what we ultimately want tonight. That’s just a given, and I sense that’s still there.

  But while Emory amiably chats on the way to my condo about the fun she had tonight and the enjoyment of getting to know some of the players on a more personal level, I can tell she’s somewhere else inside her head.

  I’m sure it has to do with Jenna.

  Listening to those people spout such ignorance and pure spite almost had my head exploding. I wanted to pummel that guy and while I couldn’t do the same to the woman, I wanted to call her out and embarrass her in front of the entire restaurant. I had the clout to do it, but I knew it could possibly bring attention to Jenna and I’m glad she remained blissfully ignorant of what happened.

  I pull into my parking spot, help Emory out of the passenger side of the car. I take a chance as we walk to the elevator, my hand reaching out for hers. My fingers lace with the edges of hers, a tentative hold on each other.