“That was totally cheating. We agreed to a race, not a chase. And you didn’t care to mention that you run faster than a fucking cheetah,” I pant, still breathless and chest heaving, trying to regain my composure.
I’m not as physically fit as I think I am. Noted.
The sound of his dark chuckle draws me in, another smile pulling at my lips.“Aww,don’t be so butt-hurt that you can’t win everything, Beauty.”
“Pshh, I’m not butt-hurt. I just didn’t take the big macho man for a cheater, is all,” I counter defiantly, dropping to the ground and lying in the sand.
Without hesitation, he plops down beside me, legs crossed. Even sitting, he towers over my splayed-out body that’s still trying to recover.
“We can go again if you’d like.” He giggles like a fucking child, undoubtedly at my expense.
Asshole.
My head shoots up, and I glare daggers at him, my eyes meeting his.
There’s something about those eyes. They just do something to me—I fucking hate it.
“Yes, genius,” I spit sarcastically, rolling my eyes. Then I look away, breaking eye contact. “Running again sounds like a great idea when my heart is still zooming at the speed of a NASCAR race.”
His loud laugh rings in my ears as he lies beside me, cuddling me into him.
It never feels weird for us to be like this together. He’s the only guy this sort of intimate connection hasn’t felt weird with. Hell, he’s the only one I allow this with. Being with him in any capacity always feels naturally comfortable.?
It freaks me out justhowcomfortable it feels.
Besides Via and Kasten, my older brother, Jett ismy person. I can always count on him. He’s reliable when it comes to me, even though he’s a total asshole at times.
It’s almost like I trust him, and that scares the shit out of me. Because if I trust him, that gives my heart a little too much freedom.
Too much freedom means a risk I’m not willing to take.
“You know, you didn’t ask your questions of the day yet...” he says, breaking my thoughts.
I chuckle softly, looking over my shoulder at him.
“Question of the day, number one...” I begin, taking a moment to think about it. I extend my pinky out toward him, and he quickly interlocks his with a grin. “This is a two-parter. What’s the one thing you like the most about yourself, and what’s the one thing you wish you could change?”
What started as a stupid game I created one day quickly became our thing, daily. It became our safe space to ask the hard questions that we agreed would always come with hard truths. With those hard truths comes a promise to listen, to attempt tobe understanding, and a promise the other will always be heard—sealed with a pinky promise.?
We never miss the questions of the day, regardless of where we are. I can feel his eyes heavy on the back of my head as we lie intertwined in the sand on the empty beach. Staring off into the night sky, I give him the space and freedom to mull the question over.
After a few seconds, Jett answers, “I like my ability to make light of tense situations. Unless I’m to the point of absolute rage, I can defuse most things with humor.” He chuckles in my ear. “It’s almost like my special talent.”?
I like that answer.It’s him. He’s goofy, and he isn’t ashamed of it. He embraces it. It’s one of my favorite things about him.
Jett continues, “I wish I could change... My cock size. It’s too intense for most women, including you.”
I roll out of his grasp and bark out a laugh, not expecting that shit at all.
“Seriously,” he says, his dark chuckle growing louder. “Have you seen this thing? Some chick even calls me ‘Beast’ because of it.”?
Throwing him a look, I say, “Get over yourself, fucker.”
He bites down on his bottom lip to control his growing smile of pride. “I wish I didn’t care so much about shit. I’m good at seeming unaffected, but I’m sensitive as fuck. It makes me feel weak.”
“You aren’t weak for having feelings,” I counter, narrowing my eyes at him. “It makes you human.”
He smirks as he looks away. “My turn.”
